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ooh that smell
01/20/2006 = 12:41 PM

You know the drill, but let me hammer it home nonetheless, because I'd really like to nail this prize. I'd survive not winning, of course, but it'd be a wrench.

Oh, screw it.

Anyway.

Click here to go to the Everyday Hogwash website and vote for my Electric Snide blog entry of January 13th as Hogwash of the Week. Voting for my Electric Snide blog entry of January 13th as Hogwash of the Week is open from now through the 20th now closed.

If you missed the original entry, you can read it here or here.

I'm doing Cosmic's smell-meme, 'cos.

List five aromas that bring back wonderful childhood memories. Explain.

1. Hot dogs. My dad worked nights. On Thursdays, when he was home, he'd cook. That was hot dogs night. I eat hot dogs as fast food, probably more than I ought to, but I either have them without a side, or with fries or onion rings. When I make them at home, and serve them with baked beans, as my dad always did, I get very nostalgic.
2. Cigarettes. I don't smoke anymore, but I still love the smell. Again, not so much because I miss the smoking (though I do), but because it reminds me of my dad. Even though he doesn't smoke anymore either.
3. Johnson's Baby Shampoo. If all I needed was to get my hair clean, this is what I'd use. Unfortunately, it leaves my hair rough and unmanageable, and I've yet to find a conditioner that has the same scent. Not only does Johnson's Baby Conditioner not smell the same, it totally masks the baby shampoo goodness. Sigh. I'm reduced to having to find babies and smell their heads.
4. Crayons. The first thing I do when I buy a box of new crayons (yes, I still color; shut up) is dump them all out, then sort them by colors and shades. The smell of crayons is almost like a little magical voice saying, "Hey, you — go find something gray and wake it up." (Note: If you're arthritic, Crayola makes pencil-length twist-point crayons now, and if you put your regular pen grips on them, they're as comfortable as the big kindergarten-sized Crayolas, but you get more colors — the kindergarten ones seem to be restricted to the Main Eight.)
5. The Bookmobile. This sort of goes along with that books meme from last December. When I was a tiny kid, we went to the Bookmobile instead of the library most of the time, because it came right to the end of our street and parked on the corner. The Bookmobile was a van full of books, but, unlike the ice cream truck, you could go inside and pick what you wanted. It smelled so good in the Bookmobile: books, stamp pad ink, engine exhaust, coffee. In the computer age, you just don't get combinations like that anymore.

Now list five aromas that bring back not-so-wonderful memories, and explain.

1. Watermelon bubble gum. Someone bet me a quarter I couldn't chew a whole pack at once. I won the bet, but it made me gag, and the smell of artificial watermelon still makes me feel a little nauseated.
2. Pencil sharpeners. I was so relieved when we moved to the new voting district, and I didn't have to vote at the grammar school anymore. The smell reminds me of one of the meanest teachers I ever had. She was not very smart and she was a bully. She never reduced me to tears in front of the class (though more than once it was a tremendous force of will to hold it in till I was safe at home), but I was one of the lucky ones. Anyway, we had a pencil sharpener at home, thank heavens, and before school I would sharpen every pencil I owned, because woe betide the hapless kid who broke a pencil and had to get up and use the pencil sharpener, selfish child disrupting the class, shame on you for not being prepared.
3. Pickled herring. One of the few foods I actively hate. That nasty, sour, fishy smell.
4. Circuses. The one and only time I went to a big top, I was miserable. As usual, someone much taller sat right in front of me, so I had a good view of the pimples on the nape of his neck, and that's it. Eventually, he got up and moved to another seat, but when he did, I almost wished he hadn't, because I could finally see the ponies and elephants, and they had sores on their sides and such sad looks on their faces. All I wanted was to go home and throw up. Anyplace with that smell combination of dung, sweat, paint, and makeup brings back that memory. The only circus I can cope with now is Cirque du Soleil, where they flush away their own poo and, if they don't want to be there, they can get on a bus and leave.
5. New carpeting. I know that this is a smell that many people seem to like, but the sooner I can cover it up with Carpet Fresh or some other scent, the happier I am. Anyone who's ever had their grampa die and lain facedown on the new carpet, crying, for over an hour, may understand where I'm coming from.

I'm only tagging one person: Katie Doyle. Because she likes the tags. Of course, if you feel like doing this one and want the tagback after the fact, let me know.

Retrotags:

Jenn

drinking: atomic energy beverage non-fizzy lifting drink
listening to: Wilson Pickett, Midnight Hour
sad about: wilson pickett dying