bironic: Neil Perry gazing out a window at night (memoryfest - honeysuckle)
bironic ([personal profile] bironic) wrote2008-01-19 01:22 pm
Entry tags:

Days 4-6

What's this?

4. Elementary School/Middle School

The summer after fifth grade, our family took a trip out west to visit some national parks. On the flight out to Albuquerque, I was reading a Star Trek: The Next Generation paperback (I remember the books I packed about as well as the trip itself) about Tasha Yar that included a lot of unofficial backstory. There was a scene close to the beginning where young Tasha was kidnapped by a group of hooligans on her home planet and raped, or nearly raped. I remember reading that scene—not explicit at all, this was a YA book, but it hinted at enough—and blushing bright red, as though the people in the airplane seats around me could tell what I was reading.



5. Elementary School

The fields at our elementary school where we would have recess after lunch on fair-weather days was lined with trees and shrubs, some of which bloomed small white or yellow flowers. The girls called it honeysuckle. It may have been. Some days, we would walk out to the edge of the field and pick the flowers, squeeze them and drink the tiny drops inside.

What I liked better than those were these weeds that grew on the field and in the sidewalks. I don't know what kind they were, but they had these spongy, conical, goldenrod … blooms, I guess, about the size of a pinky fingernail, that smelled strong and sweet when I punctured it, and that always remind me of pineapple even though they don't exactly smell like it. They'd stain my fingernails yellow if I picked at too many of them, and my fingers would smell of them for the rest of the day. I remember one particular time when we were walking from our school up the road to another school to practice for a "marathon," and pulling one of the weeds from a sidewalk crack and sniffing it the whole way there.

ETA: OMG! In searching for pictures of honeysuckle, I found these: http://www.wildflowersofontario.ca/pineappleweed.html And look: "When crushed this plant produces a pineapple odour, hence the name." Ha! Mystery solved.



6. Elementary School (hm, I seem to be stuck in an era here)

I remember several sleepover parties from elementary school and middle school. At one of them, at my friend K.'s house, what I remember is sharing around a few bowls of Pop Secret popcorn—back in the days when they came in different colors, and you never knew what color each bag would be (hence, "Secret")—in big plastic bowls, while watching a movie—Uncle Buck with John Candy, maybe—that had a scene in a bar/strip club and a topless woman with stars stuck over her nipples.

[identity profile] mer-duff.livejournal.com 2008-01-19 11:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Reading on the plane: When I was in Grade 11, my youth band went on a trip to California over spring break. My father got remarried the day everybody left, however, so I had to fly down by myself. I was doing my Latin homework on the plane, translating Catullus, I think, and the guy sitting next to me wanted to know what I was doing. When I showed him, he asked me to write a poem for him, because when he got off the plane the mob was going to kill him (or some other ridiculous story). He and his friends had been skiing at Whistler and they kept shouting, "Single!" randomly.

I guess I did look really young and naive for my age - I missed my bus connection from LAX and when I found a commissionaire to help me get another (I was close to panic by that time), he was concerned that I was too young to be traveling by myself - it turned out he thought I was 12.

Sleepover: When I was in primary school, I slept over at my friend P's quite often. After lights were out, her father would sneak outside her window and intone, "Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of man? The Shadow knows. The weed of crime bears bitter fruit. Crime does not pay!" Or he'd howl like a werewolf. It stopped scaring us after the first couple of times, but he kept doing it...
ext_2047: (Default)

[identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com 2008-01-21 07:40 pm (UTC)(link)
Heh. From scary to annoying. Funny in the telling, though.

My dad was often incredibly annoying when I had sleepovers, all in the name of wanting to be involved -- stopping in to take pictures for posterity, that kind of thing -- not going into it or I'll get all agitated over again. :)

it turned out he thought I was 12.

Ah, yes, the trials of looking so much younger than you actually are. Some people here at work thought I was a high school intern when I started (at 22), and I still get it with some of the new people.

[identity profile] mer-duff.livejournal.com 2008-01-21 10:57 pm (UTC)(link)
I still look relatively young for my age, which is not so much of a trial when you hit 40. One of the guys in my commnity band asked what I was studying in school the other day - once the surprise of that sunk in, I thanked him effusively :)
ext_2047: (Default)

[identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com 2008-01-22 01:28 am (UTC)(link)
That must have been a great lift indeed! How nice.

People have mistaken my mom for my sister on occasion; it'll be nice to look young as I get older, but for now it can be annoying.