Tag Archives: memories

Challenge Fail

Challenge five was “Get Nostalgic.” I tried to be profound. I dug through old photos, watched movies from my childhood- forcing Ryan to endure some scathingly brilliant ideas in the process- and sat around just thinking about my childhood. In the end, nothing really stood out. There was no single day that said “Yes! Share me!”

That isn’t to say there weren’t a lot of memories that stood out, but most were attached to a regret; not grasping how special that day I spent at the mall with Papa Louie was, for instance.

In the end I’m afraid I gave up. I decided, instead, to share something that pops into my head at strange moments- usually the most inappropriate moment possible. I’ll warn you now, even I’m occasionally horrified and offended by what you are about to see. For the most part, though, I just laugh my tush off. Erm. Enjoy.

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That Takes Me Back…

I went to the library today. I found a couple of CDs that are pretty cool, but the reason I mention this trip is that I used the restroom. No, not in a ta-da! kind of used the restroom. The scent of the ladies room was faintly urine-y with a definite hint of moldy tile, and for some reason this scent brought back the memory of the restroom the fourth and fifth graders shared in my elementary school.

St. Anthony’s held grades one through eight in a  two-story brick building. The basement was the cafeteria/auditorium/chapel for Friday mass. The first floor had the admin and nurse’s offices and four classrooms used for grades one through three. The second floor had four classrooms for grades six through eight and they got the coolest things- lockers. The two extra classrooms (for those who did the math) were labs, one was bio and chem for the “upperclassmen” and the other was a reading lab for the first three grades, rather than housing the students in fourth and fifth grade.

The fourth and fifth graders were instead banished to the other side of the playground to the red brick library building. In all weather we crossed that cement (that’s right, cement) playground and climbed the rusty fire escape that led to the cloakroom we all shared before heading to our respective classes.

All this by way of saying, there’s something about the smell of a tiled restroom with the lingering odor of not quite cleaned up urine that takes me back to elementary school. I did my business and got out quick. {{shudder}}

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