I was struck with a bit of deja vu tonight that I wanted to write about.

But first– this may be my second favorite xkcd ever. (For those who are so inclined, this is my favorite xkcd ever.)

My first time in Austin– back when I’m a senior in college, and I’ve flown into Austin to interview for a job at IBM. I get in late, I rent a car, and I only have a very vague notion of where I’m going– north on 183, to the Renaissance Hotel.

(aside: this was a time when I was visiting lots of technology areas– Silicon Valley, Highway 183 in Austin, Route 128 in Boston– and in reading about them beforehand, they had almost this mystical quality, like these were roads that were paved in gold or had hovercars or something. It was heartbreaking to find out that they are just a bunch of highways with office parks and apartment complexes and strip malls– and in the case of 183, the Landing Strip.)

So I’m driving along 183, and as I pass (what I later learned was called) the Mopac interchange, I see the Renaissance hotel up on this hill in the distance, but I still can’t quite figure out how to get to it from where I am. So I get off on the 360 exit, and I start down Loop 360 (it’s so dark I can’t tell how beautiful it is) and try turning right on Great Hills Trail, but I just end up surrounded by these mansions on hills- it’s not taking me closer to the hotel. So I head back to 360, and I make my way back to 183, keep going north, and finally maneuver my way to the hotel. I check in, but I’m hungry, so I head across the street to HEB for the first time in my life, and I bought a falafel sandwich.

(second aside: there really is no point to this story. I’m just waxing nostalgic. feel free to bail out and go read kottke.)

Every now and again, for whatever reason, I happen to be heading down 183 and my eye will catch the Renaissance hotel in just the right way that it triggers this memory of the first evening I ever spent in Austin, and this was one of those nights. It’s quite possible that it feels more poignant to me now because this is the first time it’s happened to me since I’ve started giving serious thought to leaving.

I have really loved living here– in a way that has somehow managed to last longer than any love I’ve ever had for any girl. I think it has something to do with this persistent memory of my first time here. I can still remember how A, E, H, and M (isn’t it nice when the alphabetical and the chronological sync up perfectly?) looked the very first time I ever saw them, but it was necessarily a momentary, one-time sort of thing– there was never another time that could ever evoke that initial feeling of discovery or wonder. But my first impression of Austin is always there for me– so utterly comforting.

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