So it’s been six months now. I’m still thinking about what I said when it had been one week. It’s very strange to look at posts pre-9/11 and try to imagine what I was thinking when I wrote them. What world was that? Such an odd date – 09/11/2001 – has suddenly become the temporal demarcation line for millions of people. Billions of people.

Such an odd date.

I grow old … I grow old…
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

I just realized this weekend that September 10, 2001 was the one-year anniversary of the day I arrived in Los Angeles. I’ve been here a year and six months now.

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