Smells are funny things really.
I finished reading Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood the other day and that author is obsessed with smells. It�s all her characters talk about or do. Smell smell smell smell smell.
Before I even started reading it though I was driving back home from my night class and the smell of grass hit me through my open window. Instantly all the times I spent on lounging on the ground with my softball teammates came to mind.
I live in a desert so the only real time I had with grass was on the softball field.
It was just odd that it was that memory that sprang to mind. It was so out of the blue. It made me realize how unconsciously we must associate smells with memories. Because all that time sitting on the grass I never really thought about how it smelled. I never consciously made the connection.
I do love smell memory, except for when it�s bad of course.
Something else that has been occupying my thoughts for a while now is the notion that my parents take credit for me.
I am the way I am despite them. I survived their upbringing. I did not make any of the choices concerning myself since I got a mind of my own because of them or their parenting.
So naturally it bothers me when I hear them take credit for how I �turned out�. What the hell? Excuse me? You honestly think I am the result of everything you did? No way man. They�re such hypocrites. When all those school shootings happened and the media were blaming the parents my own parents kept saying: �Well, it�s not all the parents fault! The child did it!� I think it�s always this way. Take credit if they�re good, blame it on someone else if they�re bad. Parents are lazy asses just like the rest of us.
Speaking of parents though, I went shopping with my mom this weekend. It was long and tedious stuff. When we took a lil break though I mentioned to her the fact that Shea�s going to Mexico for her spring break and I wished I could go.
Mom: �Well, why can�t you?�
Alli: �Well, because her spring break is the week after mine.�
Mom: �So?�
Alli: �So...I have class...�
Mom: �Well, blow it off. It�s okay, you really need a vacation.�
So when we got home we brought it up at dinner and my dad just broke out the maps and started figuring out where we could meet up. This is all very odd and suspicious behavior on their part, but hell, if it gets me away for a bit, I don�t care.
In other news: Emilie's off the ventilator!