Cup of Noodles smell like my senior year of high school. The science teacher sold cup of noodles and Grandmas cookies and other easy things, out of his office as a fundraiser for the students in his biochem class so that we (yes, I was in that class) could go to Yosemite National Park in the winter. I would get them to eat all the time. You bought the cup of noodle and then filled it up with hot water that he kept in one of those really large percolator type coffee makers that you see at school functions. Every time I have a cup of noodle I think about sitting in the physics classroom (which was next door to the biochem classroom, and had a slightly nicer teacher) with my friends, or in my old math classroom with the same group of friends (it depended on the day of the week where we ate lunch). I can still smell the sent of white board markers and new trailer (because our science building was being rebuilt after a fire). I can still remember laughing with my friends over stupid things. I smell cup of noodles and remember those times.