The OFFICIAL Unofficial Achewood Message Board
Trivial Pursuits => Wild Card => Topic started by: V-Adore on August 09, 2003, 05:22:39 am
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(Because here's this nice Smells forum, and because Choop needs something to keep busy...)
They say that smell is the sense most connected to memory. We all have a collection of bizarre associations between certain smells and certain portions of our lives -- what're yours?
I'll volunteer one of mine first: the smell of dish-soap suds make me think of a visit to a children's museum in early childhood and, specifically, of going down a plastic slide there. I still have no idea why.
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Good choice, V.
Marlboro lights have a particular odor (and taste) that reminds me of my second roommate in college - he's the one that peer-pressured me into smoking... nine years ago. I still haven't quit. Guess I should stop blaming my habit on him. Next scapegoat? Those fuck*ng TRUTH ads. Those piss me off so much I'll keep smoking in spite.
But not Marlboro lights. Camel lights all the way.
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OK, Marlboro reds, which bring back the memory of my trip for a mate's birthday to Amsterdam. I smoked Marlboro that whole weekend cos they were so incredibly cheap there, and now when I smell them sometimes they even smell like grass!
I now smoke them exclusively!
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Sharpies make me think of Chef Boyardee pizza from a box. I think it reminds me of the dough/yeast powder. It's very strange.
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Sharpies make me think of Chef Boyardee pizza from a box. I think it reminds me of the dough/yeast powder. It's very strange.
Oh, god, markers in general are a hotbed of these things for me. For some reason, my early education was studded with markers that stank, whether just as a side effect of deep unwholesomeness (those giant aluminum-barrelled monstrosities with God only knows what in the ink) or intentional design. I still can't smell fruit-scented markers without instantly recalling all the multiplication I learned in third grade.
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I still can't smell fruit-scented markers without instantly recalling all the multiplication I learned in third grade.
I wonder if all our teachers were getting their markers from some mass-distribution warehouse. We probably went through an entire set every damn week. Kids and ink! Whoever owns that company is probably sitting very pretty indeed.
This one girl I used to sleep with wore a scent called "Mimosa" that I can instantly identify anywhere. This is problematic in several ways.
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At my work there is a plant I have to cut, and its smell really really bothers me. Eupatorium I think its called. Anyways, I just can't stand the smell, makes me nauseous and want to throw up, so awful. No one else is bothered by it.
I think I can trace back why the unique smell bothers me though, to some candies I ate when I was younger. I ate some of these strange, really old candies in a tin that smelled weird when I was young, and they made me feel sick. Thanks to that memory, their smell, and the sickness caused by them always go together now, I guess.
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This one girl I used to sleep with wore a scent called "Mimosa" that I can instantly identify anywhere. This is problematic in several ways.
My first boyfriend wore Drakkar Noir.
He was a jerk, and the scent of Drakkar makes me angry now.
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The Bosnian import at the next desk at my office wears Drakkar Noir. I asked him one day. I replied to his answer, "Oh, Drakkar. I used to wear that too... back in junior high school." He says, completely oblivious to the dig I just dug, "You used to wear it and you can't recognize it?" (Not sure on the quality of his grammar) So I have to dig a bit deeper and tell him I've blocked all memories of junior high, especially those related to Drakkar.
He still pours on a fuck*ng gallon every fuck*ng morning before I have to go to work and smell his cheap cologned self.
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This one girl I used to sleep with wore a scent called "Mimosa" that I can instantly identify anywhere. This is problematic in several ways.
I went for years with a horrible, furious, heartbroken reaction to Calvin Klein "Escape"...if I smell it, I almost feel something and then I remember how long ago all that was and how stupid I was. Then I get pissed off.
Smells are powerful as hell.
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A guy just walked by my desk at work, and as he smiled and said "hello" a delightful scent wafted over my workspace. He was gone before I could realize what the scent was, but it still lingers in the air. It is Gravity, and a good friend of mine from high school used to wear it. He used to drive me home from school, and a bottle of the cologne had broken in his front seat. I had forgotten the scent, and the friend, almost entirely until just now. It reminds me of hot spring days, driving with the windows down, Hootie and the Blowgiraffe on the stereo (perpetually), two friends crammed in the backseat of a black Geo Storm, taking the long way home to taste those rare moments of adolescent freedom for just a few more moments.
The guy who walked by my desk is the same age as me. He's my boss' son.