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enamouredI changed the journal colors. I liked the mellow pastels that I had for the better part of forever--but blah blah, insert line here about change and every season, turn turn turn. Pretend that makes sense.
But the colors? They remind me of candy! WHEE. [/geek]
In psychology today, we reviewed the chapter on memory, and I got introduced to the concept of flashbulb memory. The book defines a flashbulb memory as "a highly detailed memory of an emotionally charged event or an experience." And this made me remember something that I've probably never told anyone, and had, until today, never even written down, mostly because it made me think of something that happened to me years ago.
At my first school dance, I danced with this guy twice, and I remember the entire heady feeling of it mostly because of one thing. There was this scent on him--I don't know if it was cologne or shampoo or soap or whatever--that was very distinct. And a few times after that happened, I could smell it on him sometimes if I got close enough. For the longest time, I had convinced myself that it was CK One (for some reason, circa 1998 I considered that to be the best scent ever on a guy--now I'm partial to Burberry Brit, but whatever), but I don't think so. Whatever it was, it had this amazing smell--like being clean, but not fresh laundry clean. And the thing is, I can identify it whenever I smell it, and I've been in department stores before and caught it, but I still don't know what it is. I always think of him whenever that happens. It's a little scary. But all I know is if I ever meet a guy who's interested in me and he wears whatever cologne that was (might've been), I will probably keel over. Yeah.
I posted this over at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
history_of_me the other night, a preface entry to my sixth grade journal that I wrote the last day of fifth grade, I think:
June 6, 1997
Today was the last day of school. I'm almost a sixth-grader! All I have to do is pass. I know I will.
This has been a weird year. First, I'm stuck in a class practically full of weirdos, everyone ridicules me about my almost only friend in my grade, I make third grade friends, I bug my sort of boyfriend, I get in trouble for wanting to make peace, I fall back in love with my eighth grade crush, I go nuts for awhile, I discover a new all-girl band, I go nuts, I help plan a party that will never take place, I go nuts, I cry a lot because I'll never see her in my school again, I go nuts. Weird, huh?
Maybe sixth grade will be better. Nothing could be worse than this. I take that back, 'cause everytime someone says that something bad happens. I'm hoping and praying that nothing worse than this will happen.
The remark about "sort of boyfriend" surprised me. I've reread that journal too many times, yet I always overlooked that. He never was my boyfriend, and if so, it was all in my head. And the "her"? My then-best friend, who went to a different school for fifth and sixth grade and came back in seventh. I wish I could remember what made me not write her name.
But the colors? They remind me of candy! WHEE. [/geek]
In psychology today, we reviewed the chapter on memory, and I got introduced to the concept of flashbulb memory. The book defines a flashbulb memory as "a highly detailed memory of an emotionally charged event or an experience." And this made me remember something that I've probably never told anyone, and had, until today, never even written down, mostly because it made me think of something that happened to me years ago.
At my first school dance, I danced with this guy twice, and I remember the entire heady feeling of it mostly because of one thing. There was this scent on him--I don't know if it was cologne or shampoo or soap or whatever--that was very distinct. And a few times after that happened, I could smell it on him sometimes if I got close enough. For the longest time, I had convinced myself that it was CK One (for some reason, circa 1998 I considered that to be the best scent ever on a guy--now I'm partial to Burberry Brit, but whatever), but I don't think so. Whatever it was, it had this amazing smell--like being clean, but not fresh laundry clean. And the thing is, I can identify it whenever I smell it, and I've been in department stores before and caught it, but I still don't know what it is. I always think of him whenever that happens. It's a little scary. But all I know is if I ever meet a guy who's interested in me and he wears whatever cologne that was (might've been), I will probably keel over. Yeah.
I posted this over at
history_of_me the other night, a preface entry to my sixth grade journal that I wrote the last day of fifth grade, I think:June 6, 1997
Today was the last day of school. I'm almost a sixth-grader! All I have to do is pass. I know I will.
This has been a weird year. First, I'm stuck in a class practically full of weirdos, everyone ridicules me about my almost only friend in my grade, I make third grade friends, I bug my sort of boyfriend, I get in trouble for wanting to make peace, I fall back in love with my eighth grade crush, I go nuts for awhile, I discover a new all-girl band, I go nuts, I help plan a party that will never take place, I go nuts, I cry a lot because I'll never see her in my school again, I go nuts. Weird, huh?
Maybe sixth grade will be better. Nothing could be worse than this. I take that back, 'cause everytime someone says that something bad happens. I'm hoping and praying that nothing worse than this will happen.
The remark about "sort of boyfriend" surprised me. I've reread that journal too many times, yet I always overlooked that. He never was my boyfriend, and if so, it was all in my head. And the "her"? My then-best friend, who went to a different school for fifth and sixth grade and came back in seventh. I wish I could remember what made me not write her name.
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no subject
Date: 2006-04-05 12:03 am (UTC)< /making everything about me>
It's amazing what we convince ourselves of when we're young. And that flashbulb memory thing is SO true. Everytime I eat chocolate ice cream, I immediately think of being in a piazza in Florence with the boyfriend of the time. I hear the people bustling around, I feel the warmth of his body on my left side, I feel his breath tickle my ear from when he whispered to me.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-05 01:22 am (UTC)Oh, to be in 5th grade again...*sigh*