Saturday, July 15

Smells

Isn't it funny how you can smell something in particular that you haven't smelled in a long time & bang you mind has an association with that smell to either a place or person?

This has been happening a lot to me recently, not sure if it's because I've been over here for so long or if my nose is just extra sensitive these days or what but it's been sorta fun. Here are my examples:

I smelled a Sainsbury's peach pie baking & immediately had a flash back to Tina Savin's summer place in NJ, I know you're thinking how did I make the connection, right? Well the week we went to visit, Tina & I went to the CVS is Ardsley to get shampoo before we left, just so happened that Suave Peach Shampoo was on sale, so we got it . . . now whenever I smell a strong peach sent I think of that summer with Tina.

Every once in awhile while on the bus or tube I smell
Jean Paul Gaultier Le Male it reminds me of MMW where as Axe Body spray reminds me of hanging out at my local pub with BJS after he's just come from showering.

Even the faintest of almond smells can turn my stomach thanks to Mrs. Buchanan's second grade class! We were learning about different countries & someone brought in marzipan to taste, I thought yum at first, but later that night I got some sort of stomach bug, to this day I associate almond scents with throwing up :(

Smells of pine needles brings back memories of driving to the Adirondacks when Patty & I were little, we'd typically leave Westchester after school was out on a Friday so we'd be getting into the ADKs at night, mom would roll down the windows & all of us would inhale deeply . . . ah vacation!!!

Radox body washes, either the Aloe or the Lavender & Waterlily scents will forever remind me of my first 4 months in London, when I wasn't staying in my flat much so I'd end up having to use it as shampoo & body wash when showering in the morning before heading into uni. Noticed it this morning when I opened up the lavender radox bath gel to shave my legs . . . it was a mini trip down memory lane - I can see myself standing in the stand-up shower washing my hair and then drying off with an Arsenal towel & putting on a blue fleece dressing gown before walking down the flight of stairs & corridor to the room so I could get dressed.

Well I'm sure this post doesn't mean nearly as much if you don't know the smells or the people, but maybe you can relate to what I'm sayin . . .

In other news, it's not definite, but Greg would love to have me join the lab :) the pay is not great for London, but it's a job with great experience & a fantastic boss, which I think is very important. It would give me great "cat 3" (Biohazard Safety Level 3) skills which is the containment labs needed for such diseases as TB and B. psuedomalli (Bp would be what I'd be working with). So I'm trying not to get my hopes up too much, but I also think it would be such a wonderful opportunity :) I just have to get these freakin work permit issues sorted out (PLEASE keep your fingers crossed)

Just before I sign off, what do you think of this outfit or what about this one? Would you ever let your child wear it? Does everyone know what M.I.L.F. mean? Well here's a clue, "Mother I'd Like to F***"


Off to bed now . . . as I've got afternoon tea at 3pm at the Orangery in Kensington Palace tomorrow with Jen, Amanda, Dom & Susan for less than £10, what a steal - can youbelievee it?!?!?!? Tarra :-)

2 Comments:

At 16 July, 2006 16:37, Anonymous Anonymous said...

That onesie that says "My Mommy's a MILF" looks like something you'd see on Brit Spears' baby. Trashy. The second one is kinda cute tho!

I'm jealous of your afternoon tea - that sounds like SO much fun! Have a great time and report back!

 
At 17 July, 2006 14:26, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Yes, I agree with Zee, trashy is the word on the onesy.

Well you got my gene or whatever on the smell association. Coppertone sun cream: Cape Cod 1958; exact same memory as you on pine needles; salt water: California 1960 my first year there at the beach, etc. etc. Thanks for the memories.

Love, Mommio

 

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