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the story of an invisible girl
Memories triggered today by a chocolate donut
I was in eighth grade when I joined the high school symphony orchestra. I was a pretty good cello player, in those days. The high school had two orchestras, one for anyone who wanted to play a stringed instrument, the "concert orchestra", and an audition-only "symphony orchestra". I was still in middle school, but I was bored with the music program there, so I auditioned for the elite high school one. There were three of us middle-schoolers in the symphony orchestra that year.

I spent my eighth grade year going to the high school first thing in the morning. Orchestra was first period, after which I would then ride my bike (or mooch a ride) to the middle school for the rest of the day.

My best friend's older sister was attending that high school, so we would ride our bikes to that school together. She taught me how to get there. She liked to arrive early and spend time with her friends before classes started, so I was always there a good 20 minutes before anybody else. She would leave me at the door and go to socialize. I was painfully shy, and I didn't know anybody to hang out with, so I just brought a book and read in the orchestra room until everyone else showed up. I don't believe that I knew how to get to any place in the building other than the orchestra room, actually.

There was another older girl, Ann, who also often arrived early. I think she played viola. She would generally buy a large chocolate donut from the cafeteria every morning for breakfast and eat it, sprawling on the old wooden risers in the orchestra room with me. We both preferred to lounge on the steps rather than perch in the uncomfortable chairs. Sometimes I'd read, sometimes we'd talk.

She always liked to lay the donut face-down on its sticky plastic wrap. She would then pick off pieces of the underside with her fingers and eat them. She saved the chocolate frosting, on the top of the donut, for last. After she had eaten almost all of the bottom part of the treat, she had a donut-shaped piece of crust/dough with a thick layer of chocolate frosting on it. She would then eat that with much messy enjoyment.

I saw her again, just a couple of years ago. It turns out she is a cousin of one of the good friends I ended up making in the following years, when I attended that high school as an actual student. I'd never even noticed that their last names were the same.
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juliebata From: juliebata Date: March 20th, 2003 04:07 pm (UTC) (Link)

Memory lane...

My memory works like that too, the simplest things can conjure up the most vivid and powerful memories. It's usually music that does it for me. A long unheard song can take me to a very specific time and place. Scents are triggers, too. When I was living in California, my mom (back in Madison) once sent a package to my office. She had cleaned out her dresser drawer, and sent me a piece of fabric she had found in it. Mom's dresser drawer was always a wonderful place with jewelry, perfume and make-up, that I loved to play with when I was a little girl. No other place on earth smelled quite like it. So when I opened that package, and took a whiff, the memories were so powerful I had to sit down for a moment. I was suddenly seven years old, playing dress-up with mom's jewelry. That piece of fabric had retained the scent, and mom knew it was the perfect thing to send me to brighten my day! My co-workers kept looking at me, wondering why I kept smelling this package with a beatific smile on my face!

renniekins From: renniekins Date: March 21st, 2003 09:20 am (UTC) (Link)

Re: Memory lane...

Wow, that's a cool story!
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