A Riddle
It tastes like light beer, crappy coffee, leftovers, and that secret desert that the cook hoards in the back pantry. It tastes like apples and brownies with powdered sugar on one half. It tastes like Lean Cuisines. It tastes like sugar free and low carb. It tastes bittersweet.
It smells like Victoria Secret lotion, late night popcorn, burnt tomato soup, expensive perfume, and swiffer wet jet. It smells like excitement on Friday nights, hangovers on Sunday mornings, and productivity on Monday afternoons. It smells like fruit and sugar and sometimes body odor. It smells like all nighters and test anxiety. It smells like hair products and estrogen.
It sounds like running up and down stairs and running showers, doorbells and closing doors. It sounds like shrieking, laughing, gossiping, snoring, whispering, and sometimes crying. There is music everywhere from the bathroom to the baby grand. It sounds like Grey's Anatomy in the TV room with abundant Shh-ing. It sounds like movement and stress and home. Sometimes it sounds silent.
It looks black and classic, white and pure, gold and true. There are book bags, handbags, and shopping bags. It looks like flowers and polka dots, patterns and solids, trendy, vintage, expensive, and on sale. It looks like a crusty quesadilla maker and stack of free catalogs. It looks like decorated bedroom doors, picture frames, and messy dressers. It looks thin, stout, confident, and insecure, dark, pale, and freckled. It looks happy but is sad, sad but is happy.
It feels traditional and grounded. It feels like hard, wooden floors, worn steps, coarse brick walls. It feels plush and soft and stuffed with down. It feels warm and cozy, cool and comfortable. Sometimes it just feels hot. It feels like the skin of hugs and hands. It feels like germs. It feels sturdy and it feels safe.
What is it?
It smells like Victoria Secret lotion, late night popcorn, burnt tomato soup, expensive perfume, and swiffer wet jet. It smells like excitement on Friday nights, hangovers on Sunday mornings, and productivity on Monday afternoons. It smells like fruit and sugar and sometimes body odor. It smells like all nighters and test anxiety. It smells like hair products and estrogen.
It sounds like running up and down stairs and running showers, doorbells and closing doors. It sounds like shrieking, laughing, gossiping, snoring, whispering, and sometimes crying. There is music everywhere from the bathroom to the baby grand. It sounds like Grey's Anatomy in the TV room with abundant Shh-ing. It sounds like movement and stress and home. Sometimes it sounds silent.
It looks black and classic, white and pure, gold and true. There are book bags, handbags, and shopping bags. It looks like flowers and polka dots, patterns and solids, trendy, vintage, expensive, and on sale. It looks like a crusty quesadilla maker and stack of free catalogs. It looks like decorated bedroom doors, picture frames, and messy dressers. It looks thin, stout, confident, and insecure, dark, pale, and freckled. It looks happy but is sad, sad but is happy.
It feels traditional and grounded. It feels like hard, wooden floors, worn steps, coarse brick walls. It feels plush and soft and stuffed with down. It feels warm and cozy, cool and comfortable. Sometimes it just feels hot. It feels like the skin of hugs and hands. It feels like germs. It feels sturdy and it feels safe.
What is it?
Is that beer in the sophomore dorms? I'll see you all after meeting at MDC and you BETTER hope the advisor is forgiving. TNT.
ReplyDeleteLoved this post. It made me happy and sad but mostly thankful for a good experience. Looking back you can't ask for much more than that!
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
ReplyDeleteThis made me so happy and a little bit homesick. I keeping this forever so I can read it whenever I want. Also, this is incredibly dorky, but it should totally be part of recruitment. Love it.