Can we stop all the world now, already?!

Thanks to elementary school science classes or a cologne commercial, I'm not sure which, we all know that scent is the strongest sense tied to memory. But sometimes it still blows my mind.

At my new day job there is an area with a scent that evokes such intense memories of my college dorm freshman year that I literally stop every time I pass by and feel I might double over at the shocking deja vu. Not that it evokes bad memories - on the contrary, it brings me back to a wonderful time so intensely I almost can't stand it.

Following such an episode this afternoon, I stumbled back to my desk and pulled up my ancient blog. Not the one I was fired for, but the one prior to that - a blog full of senior year of college, immediate post-college life in New York, happiness and excitement, my quarter-life crisis and some sadness, and enough pictures and intimacy that I eventually had to abandon it to go anon. Alas, here I am.

Side note: When I interviewed for my current day job, I told them straight up the conditions surrounding the termination of my previous position. The higher ups were greatly amused, and told me I was welcome to blog away on my lunch hour. Obviously, I have no intention of doing so, but figure reading my ancient blog at my work computer can't be dangerous, seeing as I mostly talked about shoes and finals and cupcakes. Of course, this is my life, so, I'll probably be fired again in no time.

Anyway, I pulled up the ancient blog and clicked through my archives to find today in 2004, which was my senior year of college and also the year my blogging tenure began. A good dig through all the crap I've abandoned at my parents' house would likely lead me to the physical journals I was still keeping in my earlier college years, but I'm not sure I want to go there, and so, was sure a trip down memory lane of senior year would do the trick.

To my surprise, I found no entry for March 20, 2004. In fact, there were no entries the entire week. It didn't take me long to figure it out: Spring Break!

My senior spring break was the best of the four, which is impressive considering I spent it in Daytona as opposed to Cancun, Cabo and Ireland, where that blissful week in years freshman through junior took place, respectively. But Daytona goes down without question as the best, and it could be because I was older, it could be because I was with only The BFF and one other friend as opposed to biiiiig groups (I like group activities as much as anyone, but, not so much when there is traveling involved), or it could be because senior year was the year I most needed the break and the debauchery, what with a schedule that included two internships, a job, and two honors seminars, on top of a crumbling relationship with my boyfriend. But whatever the reason, the memory of that week is one of my favorites.

AND I CAN'T FREAKING BELIEVE IT WAS FOUR YEARS AGO!!!

I mean, I can't lie and say it feels like yesterday. But it doesn't feel LIKE FOUR YEARS AGO! And freshman year? As I ran in a panic back to the dorm-scented area of my new office and breathed deeply, I decided, DEFINITELY DOES NOT FEEL LIKE DAMN NEAR EIGHT YEARS AGO!

Eight years? My freshman dorm, and The BFF, and debauchery with members of the men's swim team, and snow storms, and scandals at the shady Chinese buffet, and our tiny fridge filled with nothing but PBR and grapes, and Dawson's Creek watching, and skipping 8 a.m.'s, and drawing a flower on the whiteboard to signify certain activity ... eight years ago? No. No no no.

The panic continued as I recalled meeting The BFF, down to first conversation, down to the bright blue running shorts she was wearing when I walked into the room and the pastel stuffed bug she had decorating her desk shelf, and then thought about where her life is now: her well-paying job she's been at for almost three years that sends her to the occasional exotic locale, her dashing British boyfriend (with whom she's been to the occasional exotic locale), her studio apartment (no four roommates for her) in Manhattan, her chic boot collection, her undying dedication to running.

Maybe it's just me, I wondered. Maybe it's just me who can't believe it's been so long. Maybe it's just me who can't let go. Maybe it's just me, without a career path in sight, without a man, without trips to exotic locales, with boots desperately in need of re-heeling but no expendable income for the task, with no dedication to ... anything.

Maybe I wouldn't be panicking at a hint of deja vu in a girly, floral-shampoo-smelling corner of my office if I'd made my current life anything nearly as great as what the me of eight years ago would dream up for it.

"Okay, this is going to sound stupid, but there's this spot in my office that smells just like (our freshman dorm) and every time I walk through it I kind of feel like I got kicked in the stomach and then my head kind of explodes, and, I mean, eight years! It's been almost eight years! IT IS OUR FOUR-YEAR COLLEGE GRADUATION ANNIVERSARY THIS YEAR! I remember your shorts. Your running shorts, the day we met. And you had a ponytail. I remember it all, and I'm not sure that's okay!"

I heard The BFF laugh on her end of the line. "I remember you had a French manicure, and pearls, and one of those stupid rope bracelets you still wear in the summer. And your mother freaked out about you having the top bunk, but, dude, you got there last. And when your parents left you pulled out a million photos of all your friends and a giant bottle of gin and said you were joining the sailing team and then you took your closet and half of mine and I thought you were the biggest WASP I'd ever met and that we'd never get along. And the next weekend we almost burnt down the dorm cooking crescent rolls because we switched the toaster oven in the lounge to broil instead of bake, and we drank your parents' gin and laughed so hard we cried and then I was pretty sure we were going to be best friends.

I remember it all too. I'm not sure it would be okay if we DIDN'T."

I calmed down. "I'm glad you're still the level-headed one. And that you still run more than anyone I've ever met."

"I'm glad you're still the most hilarious drama queen in the world," The BFF replied. "And that you still wear rope bracelets."

I'm glad I'm not the only one who still holds on sometimes. And that that might be okay.