But that is not why I am writing, this new year is full of promise: I graduate in April with my bachelor's degree, if all goes as planned I will start Grad School in the fall, I am going to be learning about 48 women that have affected the course of the literary world, and the world is ripe with all sorts of other possibilities. Life as a single 32-yr-old women in Utah might not be one of unwavering bliss but a girl can handle anything for a short period of time. I have put in my hours here in Happy Valley and am looking forward to moving on. Lucky for me, moving on doesn't mean that I will have to give up my nights surrounded by literary genius'.
I am very excited about my future, yet here I sit alone surrounded by books. The small voice in my head that represents the hollywood version of society seems to be telling me that I should be getting all gussied up to head to some New Year's Eve Bash. A party where I will be surrounded by people (most of which I do not know) so that I can count down to this new year. The louder voice in my head, which represents my anti-social self, tells me that starting the new year surrounded by the works of a literary genius is just fine. I agree with the louder voice, which is why it is the louder of the two. While the needling small voice has begun to annoy. I do not feel guilty that I sacrificed some party which I won't enjoy for reading.
So I wish all of you a Happy New Year's. I wish for each of you a wonderful 2012. And hope all of your dreams come true. If you have any wishes for me.... wish for good books and good grades.
One ArtBy: Elizabeth Bishop
The art of losing isn't hard to master;so many things seem filled with the intentto be lost that their loss is no disaster.Lose something every day. Accept the flusterof lost door keys, the hour badly spent.The art of losing isn't hard to master.Then practice losing farther, losing faster:places, and names, and where it was you meantto travel. None of these will bring disaster.I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, ornext-to-last, of three loved houses went.The art of losing isn't hard to master.I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gestureI love) I shan't have lied. It's evidentthe art of losing's not too hard to masterthough it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.