New Year's
Resolution, noun. First definition: The act or process or resolving something or breaking it up into its constituent parts or elements. Second: A resolving, or determining; deciding.
Resolution has nine different definitions, ranging from such topics as medicine to music. A New Year's resolution is typically made at the beginning of the year as an annual goal.
Every year seems to go by just a little faster, with daily goals and tasks building for larger accomplishments. Last year at this time I was halfway through my Americorps experience and waiting to hear back from prospective graduate schools. This year more tasks await. By next January, the following will have been done:
Apply to Ph.D. programs
Declare my thesis and pick my committee
Complete either summer school/internship
Start job as TA or RA (hopefully the former)
These are things that must be accomplished. I can delay all of them, decide that a Ph.D is not for me and start into a teaching program but I doubt that I will decide upon that course of action. The application for Ph.D. programs will be the most interesting of the four, considering I've only completed one semester and only eight credits. But for a MA program, all I need is 30 credits and only 24 in classes.
I do have personal goals. I have not formulated what those will be. I believe for this school year I set out some personal goals and have yet to truly fulfill any of them. I have failed at becoming involved in an extra curricular, minus the occasional trip down to Bloomington. I succeeded in studying hard this first semester but I must continue the rigorous pace to meet expectations of acceptance into any first-rate program. I have become slightly isolated from more and more friends. As my friend Gretchen puts it though, I don't know that's a bad thing. Some of these friends from college were more incidental friends, only known through occasional contact because of Collins.
My love life is discombobulated. If I could even try to open my mind to someone (or my heart) the confusion would make their head spin. Too many thoughts of too many people with no one focused person. I wish it weren't that way. I wish that my mind was cleared, I could not think of other women, women from my past or women of the future. I've resolved that I will make it to my birthday without being in a relationship, a feat I haven't accomplished since I was a junior in undergrad. Why is it a feat? The words of a friend from the past echoes through my mind, that I am prone to relationships. My words, not hers. I am always in one relationship or another, barely making time for myself. Now that I have time for myself, my own insecurities and thoughts make me nervous to even open up to another woman. I am happy with myself but not necessarily my situation. This year will hopefully resolve that unhappiness.
With the New Year comes the hope for a better year than last. I loved last year, the true feeling of work and helping others. And then the brutal reality of graduate school and the life of a professional student.
Life is funny in the memories it brings to you when you are up at 2 in the morning, thinking of the future and your own mortality. Years ago, I wrote a letter. One of the less passive things I've ever done, in fact, and one of my prouder moments. I've never regretting writing to Kate and telling her how I felt about her. I did it to ease my mind, to quell the heart that yearned for a woman I didn't even know. How do I explain the oddness I felt before then, churning in my mind the variety of ways in which other women were better suited and more interested. The letter calmed the emotions can those strange feelings will never disappear, a sighable offense to my brain which has tried for years to reconcile with my heart, to make it see the light in the inevitable frustration in pursuing unrequited love, with Kate or with any other woman. Persistence is not the key in this matter. The recognition of defeat is instrumental to progress in the heart. The letter was just that, clearing the roadblock in my mind and letting lose the late-night thoughts of a hopeless romantic, who sought solace in Charlie Brown books and fantasies of perfect kisses. Without fantasies and dreams, imagination cannot be continued but it is replaced with pure reality; the spawning of a cynic.
Now I sit and think. Think of women I know, women I wish I knew better. Midnight wanderings between infomercials propose long letters of suffocated emotions. My mind commands the pen and pad but my body does not respond, my brain censoring such whimsical demands. It is no longer being wishy-washy but noncommittal, unresponsive, a heart in a vegetative state. I do not pray for her but I pray for myself. She will cross my path (or has she already?) and will I commit? Will I let old emotions, foolish emotions, dictate my life?
Rarely do I reveal my own frustrations and thoughts, hiding behind books and laughs and shattered past. I have always been a recluse, only opportunity has brought me friends. For four months I have thought of writing a letter to Megan. I will not deny that I have brainstormed for months. I have no reason to write to her. She has never expressed any feelings for me or desire to maintain a friendship, as shown by her refusal to speak to me for months. I face a problem in letting go of women I am interested in. She is just the latest in what will be a long line of women, disgusted in what I say to them. I've wanted for so long to apologize to her, to tell her that I wanted so much more from our friendship, as young as it way, than I told her. Many nights have been spent staring at a yellow legal pad, exploring the green lines and empty spaces, imagining the curves of my letters and her eyes as she traces over them. I've never been able to comes to grip with writing it and I never will.
And Amanda. Man. What a mess I turned that into. Just when I find another nice girl who really likes me for me (yeah there's no money to love) it crumbles in a few months. I just wanted so badly to be more than her other boyfriends, to really take care of her. I did nothing more than inadvertently use her like everyone else. She deserves better treatment than that. If only I could focus the misplaced attention from Kate and Megan onto her or some other deserving girl, I might actually make a relationship work. I am such a cad.
Then Sutton. Yes I did have to mention her. I didn't go through each girlfriend though so consider yourself SPARED. I think being candid about what I think about late at night includes Sara, a friend who has gotten closer over the past year. I would be lying if I said I didn't have any feelings for her. What they are I don't know but I do know that I am so lucky to have her as a friend it's not even funny. Hopefully she won't take any offense to her being included in this entry. I do find her very comforting; she always has time to talk and is willing to listen. She is also more than willing to tell me that I'm an idiot (not explicitly).
I'm done. I just wanted to write and this is a good space for it. I wish everyone a Happy New Years and a good one at that.
Wilhite
Resolution has nine different definitions, ranging from such topics as medicine to music. A New Year's resolution is typically made at the beginning of the year as an annual goal.
Every year seems to go by just a little faster, with daily goals and tasks building for larger accomplishments. Last year at this time I was halfway through my Americorps experience and waiting to hear back from prospective graduate schools. This year more tasks await. By next January, the following will have been done:
Apply to Ph.D. programs
Declare my thesis and pick my committee
Complete either summer school/internship
Start job as TA or RA (hopefully the former)
These are things that must be accomplished. I can delay all of them, decide that a Ph.D is not for me and start into a teaching program but I doubt that I will decide upon that course of action. The application for Ph.D. programs will be the most interesting of the four, considering I've only completed one semester and only eight credits. But for a MA program, all I need is 30 credits and only 24 in classes.
I do have personal goals. I have not formulated what those will be. I believe for this school year I set out some personal goals and have yet to truly fulfill any of them. I have failed at becoming involved in an extra curricular, minus the occasional trip down to Bloomington. I succeeded in studying hard this first semester but I must continue the rigorous pace to meet expectations of acceptance into any first-rate program. I have become slightly isolated from more and more friends. As my friend Gretchen puts it though, I don't know that's a bad thing. Some of these friends from college were more incidental friends, only known through occasional contact because of Collins.
My love life is discombobulated. If I could even try to open my mind to someone (or my heart) the confusion would make their head spin. Too many thoughts of too many people with no one focused person. I wish it weren't that way. I wish that my mind was cleared, I could not think of other women, women from my past or women of the future. I've resolved that I will make it to my birthday without being in a relationship, a feat I haven't accomplished since I was a junior in undergrad. Why is it a feat? The words of a friend from the past echoes through my mind, that I am prone to relationships. My words, not hers. I am always in one relationship or another, barely making time for myself. Now that I have time for myself, my own insecurities and thoughts make me nervous to even open up to another woman. I am happy with myself but not necessarily my situation. This year will hopefully resolve that unhappiness.
With the New Year comes the hope for a better year than last. I loved last year, the true feeling of work and helping others. And then the brutal reality of graduate school and the life of a professional student.
Life is funny in the memories it brings to you when you are up at 2 in the morning, thinking of the future and your own mortality. Years ago, I wrote a letter. One of the less passive things I've ever done, in fact, and one of my prouder moments. I've never regretting writing to Kate and telling her how I felt about her. I did it to ease my mind, to quell the heart that yearned for a woman I didn't even know. How do I explain the oddness I felt before then, churning in my mind the variety of ways in which other women were better suited and more interested. The letter calmed the emotions can those strange feelings will never disappear, a sighable offense to my brain which has tried for years to reconcile with my heart, to make it see the light in the inevitable frustration in pursuing unrequited love, with Kate or with any other woman. Persistence is not the key in this matter. The recognition of defeat is instrumental to progress in the heart. The letter was just that, clearing the roadblock in my mind and letting lose the late-night thoughts of a hopeless romantic, who sought solace in Charlie Brown books and fantasies of perfect kisses. Without fantasies and dreams, imagination cannot be continued but it is replaced with pure reality; the spawning of a cynic.
Now I sit and think. Think of women I know, women I wish I knew better. Midnight wanderings between infomercials propose long letters of suffocated emotions. My mind commands the pen and pad but my body does not respond, my brain censoring such whimsical demands. It is no longer being wishy-washy but noncommittal, unresponsive, a heart in a vegetative state. I do not pray for her but I pray for myself. She will cross my path (or has she already?) and will I commit? Will I let old emotions, foolish emotions, dictate my life?
Rarely do I reveal my own frustrations and thoughts, hiding behind books and laughs and shattered past. I have always been a recluse, only opportunity has brought me friends. For four months I have thought of writing a letter to Megan. I will not deny that I have brainstormed for months. I have no reason to write to her. She has never expressed any feelings for me or desire to maintain a friendship, as shown by her refusal to speak to me for months. I face a problem in letting go of women I am interested in. She is just the latest in what will be a long line of women, disgusted in what I say to them. I've wanted for so long to apologize to her, to tell her that I wanted so much more from our friendship, as young as it way, than I told her. Many nights have been spent staring at a yellow legal pad, exploring the green lines and empty spaces, imagining the curves of my letters and her eyes as she traces over them. I've never been able to comes to grip with writing it and I never will.
And Amanda. Man. What a mess I turned that into. Just when I find another nice girl who really likes me for me (yeah there's no money to love) it crumbles in a few months. I just wanted so badly to be more than her other boyfriends, to really take care of her. I did nothing more than inadvertently use her like everyone else. She deserves better treatment than that. If only I could focus the misplaced attention from Kate and Megan onto her or some other deserving girl, I might actually make a relationship work. I am such a cad.
Then Sutton. Yes I did have to mention her. I didn't go through each girlfriend though so consider yourself SPARED. I think being candid about what I think about late at night includes Sara, a friend who has gotten closer over the past year. I would be lying if I said I didn't have any feelings for her. What they are I don't know but I do know that I am so lucky to have her as a friend it's not even funny. Hopefully she won't take any offense to her being included in this entry. I do find her very comforting; she always has time to talk and is willing to listen. She is also more than willing to tell me that I'm an idiot (not explicitly).
I'm done. I just wanted to write and this is a good space for it. I wish everyone a Happy New Years and a good one at that.
Wilhite