There are a lot of things in my life about which I’m pretty sorry.

For instance, I’m sorry for still going to my senior high school prom with the boy who dumped me on my 18th birthday three weeks earlier.

I mean, I already had the dress and everything. Besides, I thought for sure it’d be a “Sixteen Candles” kind of happy ending at the close of the dance. You know, when he’d realize I was Demi Moore, Ally Sheedy and Molly Ringwald all rolled into one and beg me to take him back?

Instead, he ignored me right up to the point when I had to find my own ride home. #BadCallPatty

I’m sorry for that whole awkward, red-hair trial period. Ooh, and the Sun-In phase. Ditto giving into the perm craze. On what planet does an Italian girl need a perm, BT dubs? Sigh.

Let’s not even TALK about my bright idea to mention Dorothy Hamill’s hairdo to my stylist, who then proceeded to chop nearly every hair off my 13-year-old head. As I recall, Telly Savalas and Yul Brenner were clients of hers back then, as well. Ugh.

#WhatWasIThinking #HairRegrets

While I’m bemoaning stuff, I’m also pretty stinking sorry for giving away my Led Zeppelin, Journey and Def Leppard albums. Don’t even get me started on my colossally bad decision to hand off my Michael Jackson “Thriller” and Prince “Purple Rain” LPs. Did I mention they were in mint condition? Today’s combined street value is like $4 million, I think.

Stupid CDs. Who knew turntables would make such a comeback, yo?

Also, I really, really wish I would have worn my headgear for all the hours that I actually claimed to have worn it. Ditto on my retainer. Suffice it to say, the small fortune my folks spent on my braces back in the 1980s would’ve been better invested in that fledging new computer company Apple. While I’m at it, I should have flossed more. #DentalTrauma

On the other hand, there’s a decent amount of stuff I refuse to apologize for.

I’m not sorry for kneeling before God or standing for the national anthem.

I’m not sorry for drinking three cups of coffee a day. Fully caffeinated. I own it. #DecafIsNotRealCoffee

And I’ll never apologize for walking away from the traditional work world when Kyle was a baby. Hey, I still contributed like $14 a month with writing gigs here and there? OK, fine, so we ate tons of white pizza and a lot of mac and cheese for about five years. Heck, it was all homemade, after all. And yeah, I shopped the clearance racks. Actually, I always do that.

But that precious time with my little bambino? Worth the Lean Cuisine and coupon cutting, capisce?

And I’m sure as shootin’ not sorry for watching Hallmark Channel’s Christmas in July programming schedule in the dead heat of summer. Here’s why:

1. Happy endings. Every. Single. Time.

2. Santa makes an appearance in nearly every movie. And here in today’s world of pandemic-monium, jolly is in short supply, you dig?

3. A perfect love story; a revelation about love and family; a poignant reunion or a touching, unexpected homecoming — and it’s always wrapped up in a neat two-hour block. Bam.

4. Colored lights and candy canes and tinsel, oh my!

5. Joy to the world, the Lord is come, let Earth receive her king. Enough said.

Regrets? I have a few, but then again, it’s only 159 days until… you know.

Kimerer is a columnist, blogger and unabashed Christmas movie junkie. Check out her holly-filled thoughts at www.patriciakimerer.com