Portland

The last time I was in Portland, I had never used a cell phone. Elliott Smith was still alive. I spent my average night on AIM. My favorite movie was Good Will Hunting. I could count the number of drinks I'd had on one hand. I couldn't name you more than two Bob Dylan albums. Most of my favorite books -- Anna Karenina, Lolita, Watchmen -- I'd never picked up. Many of my good friends were strangers.

Five and a half years is a long time.

I remember walking around Portland in spring 2003, Either/Or on my headphones, thinking I'd never make it past 19. I remember the future feeling like something alien, something that didn't concern me. Something that other people worried about and looked forward to. Now I'm 23, listening to "Alameda" on YouTube for the 8th straight time, thinking I'll never make it past 24.

There's nothing like a person or place from the past to remind you of how little you've changed. Five and a half years is a long time, but some things just won't quit.