I have an inexplicable love of lemon scent. I mean, don't get me wrong, lemonade is delish, but lemon candles, lemon candy, even lemon soap all smell goddamn amazing. I even made the mistake of assuming the Burt's Bees lemon-scented cuticle cream would taste exactly as it smelled. This was not the case. While smelling like a citrus nirvana, it tasted like earwax and drywall. Not the sharpest move on my part, but then again, I have not been known for my smooth moves and grand decision making skills.
I also really love the smell and taste of fake banana flavoring, but absolutely hate real bananas. There is a combination of texture and taste that don't seem natural nor harmonious. Instead, I feel like maybe that's what an albino's crap looks like. Ignorant, I know, but that is a theory I held until at least fourth grade.
I think fourth grade is the one I remember least. Kindergarten I remember a few things: my introduction to nachos, paper mache planets, and the goddamned luau. Some song about a hookie-lau or some shit. First grade was Mrs. Lemoine's class. I remember for a show and tell, one of the girls brought a huge effing snake. Also, this is when a young puppy followed Jay and I to school, where I just told people he was my dog. My teacher told me to take him home, which now-a-days would just scream "KIDNAP ME!!" But, in Redlands in 1987, I was safe as could be. Took the dog to my mom, and somehow she named it Kima. Stupid name. Then again, Kima was a stupid dog.
Second grade was when I first started getting into writing. Chocolate ice cream raining from the sky, a giant war-turtle with missiles in his shell and of course, the story with "the bastard rhinos." See, I once stayed home sick and watched Days of Our Lives with my mom. Marlena called Stefano a bastard, I asked my mom what that meant. She told me it meant "very bad man," so of course, I used it in a story in which I read out loud to my classmates. This did not go well.
Third grade I was in a class with both third and fourth graders. I remember making a model of the San Juan Capistrano mission out of sugarcubes. I also remember eating a bell tower, glue and all. Fourth grade was a ripoff. All I remember is that instead of being 3rd and 4th grade, it became 4th and 5th. I also remember Casey Curry ratting me out after I threw a stink bomb because he's a narc.
Fifth grade started me at Kingsbury Elementary instead of McKinley. Both had a bear as a mascot, but Kinsgbury was a year-round school. I thought one of the schedules, "D-track," had the best set of times off, but as I was a "gifted" student, I was put on B-track. Rip. However, we did have no shortage of cute girls in my class. There was the twins, Amy and Amanda Lopez. Amy was cute, her sister... not so much. Jen Dahlin was cute, too, but far more upscale than I ever would be. Sixth grade found me reading and being generally anti-social. I did, however, make a lucrative business out of the comic book market. If you bought the entire collection, you could sell it for more in pieces. Nice. I suppose sixth grade is where I learned all I needed to about economics.
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