The NOW and THEN

I would like to note that my three categories that appear to the right of my entries are usually contrived. I often times sit and think of a lyric to write, since the ones stuck in my head are usually annoying even to me, so perhaps I'll change that to "lyric that relates." Because for those of you who know me you know that I can think of a song for any situation, word, person, place, or thing. What I'd really like to do is link mp3's on this puppy, but "diaryland" told me that shit ain't possible. Fuck that.

The second category, person on my mind, is something I have to think about for a minute, too, because I'm usually only thinking of, like, one of three people and so I try to make it different so you guys don't get bored.

What the hell? Why would I write a journal for other people's benefit?

The third catagory is the only legitimate one on there, acutally. Like, it forces me to think of one thing that I crave, and oftentimes I then go and get that thing. Like, new eyeliner from yesterday, and I bought some.

Let me tell you about eyeliner and me. Everyone knows Michaela digs eye makeup, right? Well, here's my new thing: '60's Mod. I've been looking at some pictures of Twiggy, and I think I can pull it off, so now my eyeliner has to, and will be all black. I'm even going to start painting in eyelashes on my lower lid the she did. This is really going to tempt me to stop growing my hair out, though, so I can wear it all slick and boyish like she did, but I'll consider that seriously before I chop it off again. I might even go blonde, but I've said that before.

Now this means I have to tweak my wardrobe. I might have one or two items that fit the Mod style, but I need some key elements, like a tie and some boots. Mind you, I'm not necesarrily talking about the color-block, psychodelic, Austin Powers mod, but more the baby-doll Mod of Twiggy in the early stages of the trend. Twiggy's the word, and here's where you can get a load of what I'm talking about.

Just remember this when Christmas rolls around, okay?

In related news, I have a new scent now: white amber and ginger. I haven't shopped at Bath and Body Works in over a year, so I gave them a chance to get some new smells. I was Pear Berry about four years ago after Maggie bought it for me, and Country Apple for my ex boyfriend (until I found out ALL his girlfriends had worn it for him. Fucker.), and so this last time I went into the store determined to buy only the smell that I wanted for only me. I wasn't concerned with how sexy, or smart, or cool it might be construed as being. When I smelled this white amber and ginger it instantly flashed into my brain a sensation of being eight years old, in Vermont, in the cabin where we had lived.

I felt that pain, actually, that yearning I described when I was talking about bluegrass, that sort of desire for a joy that I remember feeling but I can't remember when, or why, or how. This smell gives me that familiar feeling, and a pain for not owning what thing this smell reminds me of. It's a lovely smell, though, very spicy, and very me.

Now, let me clarify, since maybe none of you understand what feeling it is I'm trying to describe here. Okay, imagine if you had gotten wrecked on tequila one night, and then did something monumetally stupid too. Odds are, every time you smell tequila after that you are going to feel sick and guilty in memorium to that one night. In my case, I am smelling the tequila, and feeling the sickness and guilt, but I can't remember for the life of me why. Somewhere in my memory this smell has an association, but all I'm getting is the feeling that the memory gives me without recalling the actual memory. Bluegrass music does this too, and it makes me cry, and this white amber and ginger lotion makes me *feel* Vermont again.

I've had that memory feeling in one other instance recently, too. I clicked on some guy's banner the other day, for the first time, and read redniko. He has this funny picture of him kissing a deere and he wrote this really funny entry that you can find on my "favorite entries" page on my profile, and I recommend you all read it. Anyway, for somereason this guy just gave me a strong sensation of having loved a person like this very deeply, but the sensation was sad, like that person had died, and my connection to this person was very intimate. For some reason I feel like I knew him, or someone like him, and I feel this way about Jeff Buckley, too. Infact this Niko character and Jeff Buckley sort of make me feel the same. I don't know this guy, at all, and I keep reading his pages to see if I can make the connection. It's almost like I dreamed about him, a long time ago. It's haunting, really.

I can't describe it well enough without seeming like I'm coming off like a freaking astrologist.

My mom believes in biological memory, not because she's read about such a thing, but because she senses it, like I do. She believes, for instance, that when I feel "home" in South Georgia, on the beach, it's because that's where my mom grew up. I've never lived there, St. Simon's Island, but she did, and she thinks I have a biological memory that makes me feel like I'm home when I'm down there. So perhaps this Niko guy just makes me remember something genetically transfered.

Now I'm really starting to sound mystical.

I do not believe in reincarnation: the concept is contradictory to other things in which I do strongly believe. However, there are unexplainable urges in all of us that would be easily explained if we could blame it on the events of a "past life." For this reason it seems somewhat logical to think that yearnings, or memories are passed down from a mother to her child, in the same way food cravings and complexions are passed down.

Time to go read a book.