Ahh, Memories

There are some times, some places, some situations that stick with us forever. Whether we realize it or not, some part of our subconscience is always aware of that memory, it just needs a certain trigger to pull it out from the archives in the recesses of our brain and flood our waking thoughts with flashbacks to a different time.

There are certain smells for me that will transport me back to an earlier time. Certain feelings. Certain songs.

Whenever the roof of my mouth feels funny, I think of velvet. It's not really a sensation that could ever logically be described with that word, but one day when I was little, staying at home sick, and sitting on my mom and dad's bed watching Sesame Street on their little television, the roof of my mouth felt funny like that. And if I held really still, it wouldn't go away. And to my child's mind, it would feel like velvet.

Maroon 5 always makes me think of 5th grade.

Water balloons always make me think of third grade, at a certain friend's house who I have never been at since.

Corsets make me think of wolf costumes and hives. Green iPods are walking to elementary school during alternate transportation week when they handed out stickers to people actively trekking along. Sensitive skin is a warm bath when I have a fever.

Then there are the places. Some places that are associated with a particular but imperfect event, where you always think of one specific thing, but not a specific night or specific occurrence.

Some places should be like that, but they aren't.

Tonight, we went to Old Chicago after rehearsal. The only time I ever go there is after theatre. So, natural that I should relate it to theatre.

But out of the several times that I've been there, my mind thought of one night.

Driving home, I expected it to be snowing, and for somebody to be waiting to Skype with me when I got home.

Needless to say, there was no snow, and everybody was asleep.

You crafty memories.