For some reason, Heather Jo and I have been having a days' long conversation about perfume and cologne. I never realized I had that much to say on the subject, and also that I'm that interested in hearing others' experiences with scents. The fact I'm considering buying Love's Baby Soft the next time I go to Walmart, I'm blaming entirely on her. But we agreed - no matter what you prefer, certain smells have the ability to transport you RIGHT BACK to a certain person, place and time.
It makes me really appreciate my nose. And kind of bad that I spent the majority of my teenage years hating it for being round.
This time of year the smells and sights and sounds all seem to be geared toward nostalgia of some sort. Well, maybe they're not geared for it, per se, but that's how it ends up. Christmas music, obviously, but other stuff too. Heather had just mentioned Blues Traveler on her blog and I just so happen to keep this in my car at all times:
I listened to Hook, Runaround and a couple of other songs on the way into work this morning. (My commute has time for about four songs - sometimes I wish it was longer because I'd get to hear more music and also because I'm retarded).
This album, but Hook in particular, brings me right to when Brian and I first met. Which makes tons of sense because it had just come out in 1995 and we met in Februrary of '96. That excitement of getting all prettified to go out. That new-boyfriend frenzy that is so freaking intoxicating - I spent most of the first months working at this here school daydreaming about him. We only dated for five months before we moved in together and I love to remember that period of time, that honeymoon phase. Once I went over to his house on a Saturday we'd made plans to do something and on our way out he grabbed his toothbrush, a t-shirt, boxers and socks. It was sort of like he was saying, "You know and I know I'm spending the rest of the weekend at your place, but we're both too shy to say it, but we've already done it and spent the night together and this time I'd really like to have clean underwear." So cute! It kind of made me want to turn back around, go home and blow him. But I didn't - he had already left for work anyway. But I'm still all dreamy and romantical feeling now, hours later. All from a song! Crazy. And good.
I don't know. The hormones are kicking like Van Damme today and it was either write all shmoopy about him or bitch about something trivial. I probably bitch enough as it is, so schmoop, there it is. I was also going to write about the song that was playing the night of our first kiss, which happened outside in his front yard while it was snowing on a beautiful star-lit night, but that would be REALLY cheesy. Wonderwall by Oasis.
I pick up my smile put it in my pocket
Hold it for a while try not to have to drop it
Men are not to cry so how am I to stop it
Keep it all inside don't show how much she rocked ya
Ooh can you feel the same
Ooh you gotta love the pain
Ooh it looks like rain again
Ooh I feel it comin' in
The mountains win again
The mountains win again