So Long, 2011

This is the background on my phone right now. There are no words for how much I love it.

According to urban legend, this may well be the last New Year's Eve we ever celebrate. I could stop and think about this for a while, and let the anxiety run its course until I find myself curled up in the fetal position muttering things like "water supply" and "food storage," but instead I will opt to move on and think of happier things. Like a new year looming in the very near distance, bringing with it a chance to throw out things in my life best left behind, and a chance to introduce some much-needed things that have sadly been missing from it. I'm not going to list what these things are. This is not a resolution post. History has proven that if I speak it, or write it down, it will inevitably crash and burn a painful, fiery death. Call me superstitious, or call me smart (both are accurate, in my opinion). Or better yet, text me. Either way, mums the word. I'm not declaring my resolutions this year, but I have made them, and I'm very excited to begin bettering myself.

Okay, maybe this is a resolution post. But not that kind. I resolve not to set myself up by revealing what I've resolved to do. Otherwise I may as well call it a list of things that will most definitely not happen in 2012.

There is one thing about 2012 that I can talk about, though, because it is incapable of being jinxed. It will happen, no matter what I do or say: 2012 may just be the biggest year of my life, with the obvious exceptions of 1979, when I was born; 2000, when I was married; 2001, when I had my daughter; and 2003, when I had my son. It will undoubtedly make the list of top five, and, if the doomsday-ers are correct, and 2012 is the last year we'll be here, then let's just say I'll go out with a bang.

In April my book will come out, and that is a fact. And after that...I have no idea. I have no idea how it may or may not change my life, and that giant question mark is no small amount of exhilarating. I love the unknown, at least about this. I can't wait to see where my little ol' book will go, or not go. Maybe I'll be the next Stephenie Meyer, and within a few years I'll be a household name and my book will be made into a movie and my husband can quit his job because of the millions I'll be making. Or maybe it will only be read by my friends and family and a handful of others and that'll be that. And that will be fine with me. Because all I need is to see my book, with my name on the cover, sitting on a shelf in some bookstore, and I can die happy. But no one knows. And I love that. What an exciting year 2012 will be.

So goodbye, 2011. 2012, I welcome you with open arms.