Memories... OH WO WO MEMORIES...

The sense of smell is a funny thing.

I linger over that very same thought ALL the time - particularly when in public restrooms.  I remember a scene from Ice Storm, where He-Who-Will-Be-Frodo-Baggins gives a presentation about how when you smell something, you're really encountering and absorbing the actual molecules of that which you smell...

A comforting thought, no doubt.  But I digress (no!  you don't say!).

Smell, more than any other sense has ability to conjure memories.  Give me Aveda blue oil and I'll dance on the edge of hysteria, remembering an incredibly stressful three months of my life.  Satsuma reminds me of my first dates with Marital Man Meat.  Irish Spring soap reminds me of my dad.. I smell it each time we're in Target, which, if you're at all familiar with our date nights, you know is quite often... because that's how we rolllll.  Sometimes, standing on the deck, a breeze of fresh air will blow by and I will swear, SWEAR, I'm in Montana.

New car smell reminds me of any number of poor automotive choices, including listening to the Clash in a certain 1992 VW GTI that would end up stolen and stripped by the local mafia.  Exhaust fumes remind me of winters in the 1974 Bug, suffering frost bite on all body parts save the ankles. Aveeno oatmeal bath wash = Bucuti Resort in Aruba.  And there's some cherry-scented plug-in in our tv room that reminds me a little of Liz Claiborne perfume mixed with AquaNet mixed with Aussie SprunchSpray heated up with a spiral curling iron, which reminds me of 1989, which reminds me of friends true - and not - and the misadventures of adolescence which aren't fit for public display.  The smell of bourbon reminds me of college.  The smell of Tequila reminds me of a brief journey into Mexico for 75-cent bottles of the stuff which led to belting out Paul Revere by the Beastie Boys in a campsite in the Saguaro National Park, which in turn led to the most punishing day of hiking under the blistering Arizona sun that I will never again have to endure because I'm OLDER and WISER and am now pretty much allergic to anything with an alcohol content.

...Which all leads me to this conclusion:  the oil/potpourri thing that MMM just put in the office -- the one that smells like the toilet disinfectant in the bathroom of the prop plane that jettisoned me across the state  -- MUST. GO.

On that note, I bid you, and my air space, adieu.