On the last day of 2001, I went through a few stuffs on my messy desk: A lot of papers I xeroxed from the peer-reviewed journals (most of them are very prestigious). Among them, a pile of reprints of my own papers - the first published paper I have ever had in my all career (NOTE: By the end of 2011, this paper had been cited more than 120 times). I took out a paper bag with a drivers's instruction booklet and my New Jersey learner's permit, something did not to morph into a real driver's license after I failed another road test last June. And in one folder, there are full of travel reimbursement forms. It seems that I had made at least half a dozen business trips this past year. Among them are those fascinating destinations: Seattle, San Francisco, Savannah, and even my former home of Baltimore. I have never been on so many trips paid by my job in my life. A business card from a detective caught my attention and suddenly brought me back to that horrible September day when I was mugged. And of course, how can I forget that small plastic card, which is not actually green, I fought so hard to obtain just to have a better chance in my career opportunities?
I had them all, in this short year of 2001. It was the best of time and the worst of the time in my life.
And then, there were 911 and 411.
I think all of you will not forget the horrifying image from the day of 911 and I don¡¦t want to go into any further detail on that. As to the Apartment 411, I have to say I might just give up, for the rest of my life, the idea of becoming a homeowner in New York City. After two such tumultuous years of 1999 and 2000, it is just way too hard to think about that I had to go through another such personal catastrophe. I have been shattered and shattered again, will there be an end to all these misfortunes? I just have too many broken pieces of dreams to pick up now.
Then I moved to Lower East Side in the last month of this year. Finally a Manhattanite, finally brave enough to pursue what I really want and stop listening to those unhelpful opinions. The number of my new apartment of is 501.
Isn't it odd? 411-911+501 = 1. One
And this was my 2001, the Year One of this new century.
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