I remembered learning very early on that our sense of smell is the sense most connected to our memories.  I also picked up that we as a species, are slowly losing our sense of smell.  That made me very sad. It still does.

I find my sense of smell to be very valuable. Living with a smoker for a pop severely dulled my sense of smell for a large portion of my life. It wasn’t until I started spending a major amount of my time in College- on campus, working on projects outside of school, and a blossoming social life- did I discover the whole wide world of smells, and many of my strongest smell-activated memories come from that period of time.

I came up with the idea of this post at the Pub. Being a waitress means that I mostly run on autopilot- spewing rehearsed phrases and doing as told- that it leaves me a lot of time to just THINK. Which is damgerous for a serious professional daydreamer such as I. I was standing at the waitress station, thinking- about what I cannot recall, if it was pertinent to the story I’d have remembered-  and I smelled Jason.

Jason was one of my best friends in College. As I spent a majority of time with him-along with my new functional nose, I got to know his smell well. We spent a lot of lunches together, and I did some big side projects involving his friends’ production company. I also felt as if he held me in high esteem- that he valued my opinion, and that made me feel special in a time that I was very insecure. So smelling Jason brought back a sense of free-spirited warmth and comfort.

Now I didn’t specifically smell JASON at that moment, but the smell that Jason had about him- the smell of Irish Spring bar of soap and a hint of Head & Shoulders shampoo. It took me a few seconds to place it since I hadn’t smelled it so perfectly notable in it 4 years so so. I looked around- it was almost as if I expected Jason to just be sitting there, at the bar- enjoying a pint, to look at me and give a casual “What’s Up” and then flip me off like he always did as a greeting.

I found our new waitress standing only a few feet away from me, rolling napkins. I tried not to look too obvious, as I tried to smell her general area. It struck me as neat and yet, very odd. Our New Waitress smells just like Jason.

So that’s where this whole post comes from.

Sometimes I’ll get a whiff of a smell, and I’ll be transported to some memory from when my nose first really started working- and people would look at me funny and I’d have to explain that I just smelled Snake. Which makes no sense to ANYONE but me.

And maybe you, once I explain.

Coffee and Cigarette Breath always reminds me of Julian- the Lab Tech at the Animation Lab on Powell. Doesn’t matter who breathes it, it ALWAYS reminds me of Julian. We worked in close quarters often as he would critique animation frames and knew how to fix the cameras- he taught me how to fix them so he wouldn’t be harassed so much… which of course led to more coffee and smoke breaks.

Wet Rocks and Stale Water always reminds me of the Snake the Walkers had. The Walkers were a family whose eldest I dated in my sophmore year of High School. The snake lived in a gravelly tank with a pool at one end, in the youngest Walker’s bedroom, so his room always smelled like Snake, and was kind of weirdly moist. Whenever I smell that smell, I just instantly say “Snake” without thinking.  And someone will always go “What?” And I say “I smelled Snake.” And that’s usually just weird enough to have them leave me alone for quite some time.

Cotton Candy always makes me gag. For one, it reminds me of Hard Work. And two, when I smell it begin to burn I get the smell stuck in my throat- like I was the one working over the mahcine inhaling floss remnants and burning the sugar and watching it smoke… yak. My first job ever was working the Candy Floss Machine at the County Fair, and when I took the concession job during college, I was only one of two people who could work the damn machine- guess who would inhale the burning sugar during the busy season?! Me. Yep.

Pepsi and Cigarette Breath is my Dad. Yeah. My dad smells like Pepsi and Ciagrettes, Specifically Kool Menthols. I grew up with that smell. Which is probably why Pepsi makes me happy- reminds me of my daddy. Add in the sticky ciggy breath and that’s my dad-leaning over my shoulder as he watches me make HTML brackets for my first webpage, or telling me how he was a part of the Tonkin Gulf Yacht Club while a WWII Documentary blares on in the background while I nod and egg him on, knowing that if I keep him talking he won’t ask me to do the dishes.

The smell of Dirty Dog and Cigarettes-you notice a theme yet?- is my Friend Heather. She was my best friend in High school, but had some drug problems and never actually finished High School- that made me sad ’cause she was so smart and creative but Pot and Prozac took her away from me. She had a Dog named Shadow, and after Shadow passed, Mocha. Both were smelly indoor doggies that rarely got baths.There was also the smell of Cat that permeated the house, but not so much the living room as the Laundry room.

So, those are some.  Glad I could share another quirk with the world- the more the world knows About me, the Less weird I hope I become.