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November 23, 2005

Just about this time every year I start feeling all christmassy. The carols start replaying themselves in my mind, and suddenly the stars seem to shine brighter as they did (supposedly) over Bethlehem about two millenia ago. Hard to believe that this time last year, I was too busy to notice how the season crept up on everyone, as it usually does, in muzak in elevators, over piped music in departmental stores, over everything acquiring a gleam of electronic lights. It’s almost hard to believe that it’s almost been a year since the last Christmas, and two years before the last last Christmas, and three years before the last last last Christmas…

I think I’m getting old. I find it hard to remember the details and the minutiae of daily life, as I could just three or four years ago. My memory seems to be failing me, and sometimes my mind clutches just to recall a single fact. Madonna is 47 this year, and I may even have to see her die.

If I could change one thing over, I would not have studied so hard (if that’s even possible). Everything seems so frivolous now, and I’m consumed with ennui and a latent rage against the fact that two years of my life are being wasted. But then I think about it and realise that it’s only one Christmas, and that’s all it is. Isn’t it?

Funny how life lands you in places you least expect. This time last year, I thought I was on my way to Yale on financial aid. This year I’m going to Stanford on scholarship. Who knows what may happen next year?

Amazing. This time next year I’ll have my freedom back.

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