Tuesday, April 17, 2012
I don't consider myself to be someone with extraordinary talent but I do have one special skill: I have a killer sense of smell. I can tell what my grandmother made for dinner while standing on her front porch in the winter (all windows and doors closed). I can smell the funkiness in the hall of our condo building through two doors (sometimes it smells like fruit loops and vomit). It's impressive.
More often than not, when I walk into a place, I'm reminded of something else because of the smell, good or bad. The second floor in my office building reminds me of my great-grandmother's living room (new carpet and strong coffee made in a percolator). My yogurt's sweet scent this morning made me think of the cereal bars my college cafeteria used to make (think Rice Krispie treat but with Captain Crunch cereal instead). Sometimes when I'm in New York, the whiffs of street food are reminiscent of my elementary school cafeteria (breaded chicken cutlets and Salisbury steak in steam containers).
It's like having a built-in sensory memory book. And lately, I find myself thinking about the past more and more, probably because I'm heading further away from my childhood and towards this life-changing thing called marriage. I love how the simplest thing can bring me back to some of the smaller moments that most people would forget. Usually, those are the times that are most worth remembering.
P.S. If I could choose to have a real super power, it would be a toss-up between teleporting or mind-reading. But I'd still want to keep my incredible nose. xo