Last night I went grocery shopping and so this morning I opened a new bottle of shampoo, a brand I haven't used since I was in high school. They say scent is the sense most tied to memory (you learn useful information from anti-perspirant commercials) and that seems to be very true when it come to my shampoo. My shower became a time machine and suddenly I was 16, with waist length hair, hurrying so I wouldn't be late for my first class. Last night in the shampoo aisle of the store, I sniffed a few shampoos and discovered the following mental links.
Chamomile - the five months I lived in Minnesota. Peach colored shower tiles, listening to a bad radio station that played 'Hit me with your best shot' every hour, on the hour.
Aloe Vera - the five months I lived in Alburquerque, New Mexico. The clear shower curtain with the yellow and green origami fish I folded and hung on the dry side of the curtain. The layer of windblown dust that I washed from my body daily.
Coconut - that really gastly ruffled blue shower curtain that my roommate insisted on, that Maximus kept clawing at, presumably because even cats have better taste than that. Then my roommate got mad and I had to PAY MONEY to buy another ugly monstrosity.
Chamomile - the five months I lived in Minnesota. Peach colored shower tiles, listening to a bad radio station that played 'Hit me with your best shot' every hour, on the hour.
Aloe Vera - the five months I lived in Alburquerque, New Mexico. The clear shower curtain with the yellow and green origami fish I folded and hung on the dry side of the curtain. The layer of windblown dust that I washed from my body daily.
Coconut - that really gastly ruffled blue shower curtain that my roommate insisted on, that Maximus kept clawing at, presumably because even cats have better taste than that. Then my roommate got mad and I had to PAY MONEY to buy another ugly monstrosity.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home