It's been another year of this. Are you tired yet?! (C'mon, don't really answer that. I love this job. Just pretend you're all fine.) If you had told me two years ago, "Hey, Anna, you're gonna write a regular music column in The Stranger soon!" I wouldn't even have laughed, I just would've been confused. How? About what, exactly? How often I get that song "Graduation (Friends Forever)" by Vitamin C stuck in my head?

But here I am, still, and now I can use words like "synths" on purpose and be 80 percent sure what I'm talking about are actual synths. Like I said last year, nothing about this column is truly regrettable, because it's SO MUCH FUN and it makes my life measurably better, all the time.

That said, I'm only human, and I can manufacture regret on command just like everyone else.

Most importantly, I regret that I can't always write the columns that friends and strangers suggest. For example, I still haven't written about Annie Lennox's Diva, even though my wonderful friend Michael has asked about it three times. Sorry, dude. It's on the long list!

In the same vein, I specifically regret that one time the door guy at the Unicorn recognized my name and gave me a recommendation—actually wrote down an album on a slip of paper and told me a great story about trying to go see them and then the show being canceled—and then I came in to work and told everyone about it, and we were super-excited, and then I lost that slip of paper and now ABSOLUTELY NO ONE CAN REMEMBER THE NAME OF THE BAND. God, I regret that. (The losing/forgetting part, not the first part, that was awesome!) If you are that guy from the Unicorn, please please please e-mail me! I will do that album, I promise!

I do not regret the time I called our resident music übernerd Dave Segal "some sort of bionic mystic, a robot-monk-man mesmerized equally by the glimpse of a young woman's underbutt and the perfect tone of his favorite bathroom fan's whir." Because that is the most accurate rendering of a human being's true nature that I have ever composed.

But I sure as hell regret that despite how many times people say it would be soooooooo great, Segal has so far refused to do another omnibus edition of Never Heard of 'Em/Heard of 'Em, where he schools me on the album after I write all of my baby nonsense.

I also regret that Segal has refused to write his magnum opus on the sonic qualities of bathroom fans, which would absolutely, definitely make for good reading, I SWEAR.

Finally, I regret that I get that song "Graduation (Friends Forever)" by Vitamin C stuck in my head so goddamn often. WTF.

I give this year a "You guys! We're alive! We made it one more year! Go forth and listen to music, and never regret sounding like an idiot, because it might turn into something" out of 10.