Rebecca Brown regrets the limited shelf space of brick and mortar bookstores. Stacey Levine regrets that vast swaths of a nation that can’t appreciate something as fine and subtle as a classic novel. Frances McCue regrets not finishing a stack of fan letters to writers she likes. Ryan Boudinot regrets not telling a certain person to go fuck herself. In comparison, my regrets, are regretfully, confessional and petty.Soon it will be a new year and I can relegate 2007 to the musty bins of nostalgia. I will wonder about photographs taken this year, “and when was that?”

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