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9. Finding it rather pleasant but slightly embarrassing to put my arm familiarly around Harriet, Maybelle, Rosalind, Barbara, Marianne at various times during the evening.

10. Finding no longer any particular awe of the Kahkwa Club and its members.

11. Coming home at 3:35AM and transferring Rog from our bed to his, and hearing him say dreamily he had been awake, sitting up in bed, waiting for us because he was "worried" about us. This last item #11 was perhaps the best one of the whole evening.

Erie, Pa.,
Sunday, January 1, 1939.
And so a New Year starts. As always, it appeals to my imagination, all it can mean and largely in my own hands to make it a great, proud success or disappointing, disillusioning failure. Never yet have I taken a new year and made it, not fully, but even 50% of what on New Year's day I dreamed it might be. And so this year, I should like to try again and this time succeed. It is purely psychological, but somehow, the beginning of a New Year to me is an inspiring time, a time of high hope, of confidence, of faith in what one can do. This year 1939 I want to witness an overall game of living that is worthy of me and all I have had given to me – a game that embodies all the fine, right things I've dreamed of, the ways of living I know are right and will inevitably lead to content and happiness, and whose lack, leads just as surely to unhappiness and a sense of defeat and frustration.

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