March Madness, Redux

I'm a few days away from my one year anniversary of living in LA (cards and flowers may be sent for Saturday delivery, thank you), and I can't help but already be nostalgic for that week, that month, a year ago. The day I left New York I wrote something about how the past had a remarkable way of repeating itself when the end was near; and, as the calendar approaches the same date in 2006, I have the same odd sense of deja vu I felt at this time last year.

For one, March Madness is here, Syracuse is playing, and I'm overwhelmed by the school spirit my fellow alumni have both for our team and for power drinking nearly 8 years out of college. Same scene, different coast. I can't imagine life any other way.

Two, New York magazine just came out with its annual "Best of" issue. That issue last year named the bar at which I was having my going away party the "Best DJ Bar" in New York - five days before my party. Instead of adding excitement or cache to the night, it just meant that a lot of my friends couldn't get in.

The flowers in my front yard that greeted me upon my official arrival have bloomed again; from now on, I will look forward to seeing them every March and will think of them as my perennial welcome banner.

And finally, what better explanation than subliminal deja vu to explain why I randomly busted out the fugly Mossimo sweat pants this weekend - for the first time since they were banished to the back of my closet LAST March. This time though, there was no fashion-savvy wino to offer his opinion.