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The Maraschino Cherry Days August 11, 2008

Posted by ash in Uncategorized.
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I miss the Maraschino Cherry Days.

What are the Maraschino Cherry Days? Even my closest girlfriends wouldn’t know that. It’s a name I made up on the bus today. It loosely refers to the days when I was still “youthful”. Not just in terms of age mind you, but in terms of heart as well.

It’s the time when I didn’t give a flying fuck about things, the time when I proudly wore a pink Bossini spag strap top and strutted around Jurong Point, not caring about my flabby arms (I probably didnt have flabby arms then) It’s the time when Coffee Bean still served decent beverages and was a little ahead of Starbucks in terms of popularity. It’s the time when I still hung out with Ian Ho and talked about things like Larc and Sugizo (of Lunasea). It’s the time when I jogged 3 times regularly each week in my blue JJC PE T-shirt. It’s the time when I shared lots of innocent laughter with Abby on silly things like old peoples’ nail polish (inside joke), Teru’s sour pruned face and how to play that Malice Mizer tune on the piano. It’s the time or that Saturday night (now that I recall), where Abby and I sat at the outdoor Coffee Bean at Lot-1 and talked about Maraschino cherries. We were laughing at how much coloring I had amassed in my body from snacking on Maraschino cherries. Yes, I used to eat from the jar with a toothpick. Even as I recall this particular incident, it fleets across my mind with a certain warmth. It’s the warmth from the spotlights at the Coffee Bean. I even see the color of this memory, it’s orangy-yellow. I remember Abby and I sitting on those rattan chairs, drinking our Black forests (mine with the Maraschino cherry on top of whipped cream) and sniffing in the cigarette smoke from the people sitting around us. Every now and then, we heard the rattling of the tracks as an MRT moved past.

Strange. Everything’s like a dream now. It’s as though all these things happened a few decades ago and I can no longer remember if it actually was part of my life or if I read it from a book. As I write this, these memories are rushing through my brain in a haphazard manner, the distorted style you see in the movies, like a nightmare without the horror.

What has changed?

I have to say I don’t know.

Even now, I can still see the warm spotlight falling on Abby’s face as she asked me “Do you know how much coloring a Maraschino cherry has?”

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Comments»

1. wee - August 20, 2008

i like this entry. 🙂
My “Maraschino Cherry” days was when i could wear a red spag top and denim skirt with blue windbreaker, and still thought i looked quite nice in it. Haha. That was just after A levels. And somehow life just got more and more complicated after that.

2. ash - August 20, 2008

Yes. It just keeps on getting more complicated.
Haha but your Maraschino fashion disaster sounds a lot like mine hahaha…


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