my little red wagon.

i've been thinking a lot lately about associations. and how our mind does this funny thing where it grabs hold of something small - a scent, a piece of clothing, a song- and associates it with something big. happy things and sad things. today in the car i was thinking about my associations and how i think the boston red sox's are my brother's team. but then i laugh at myself and realize the sox's are millions' team. i also think the smell of summer and dirty lake water and bbq'ing belongs only to my nana's dock. when in actuality, these are smells everyone knows and probably associates with their own families and their laid-back summer traditions alike.

as i drove and thought about my tendency to assume these associations as my own at first i laughed at myself a little. but then it made me a little sad. because i came to realize that bud light lime and veggie burgers on a porch mean something different to someone else a thousand miles away. and i don't like that. it's my thing. people are stealing my things. my associations that warm me like a blanket and creep in just when i need them. the little things that remind me of my people, my places, my experiences - there are other people in the world using the same little things for different purposes. at first it made me a little emotional but this was not alarming as we all know i get emotional when overtired. i was not phased by this reaction.

so after panera was paired with a good conversation about family, on a rainy ride home i began to change my view on this. my associations are still mine. and yours are yours. and someone else might walk on broken glass to a different beat than i do, but they are still walking on broken glass. and in the end, maybe that is all that matters. dirty lake water is my childhood and my brother's team is the red sox. my friends from home are a cult and my friends from college are barbies, a sisterhood, aspiring social workers, mymom-ers and boys who lived in a place called p-run. and when life reminds me of those near and dear to me, however that may look, i am always struck with a feeling that is hard to describe. it's not all happy and not all sad. not all good and of course not bad. how i associate people and places and experiences, the good, the bad, the ugly, and how it all strings together is so real for me. it is so real that sometimes i wish i could turn the part of my brain that makes associations off. sometimes it's easier to just press on and not be reminded and forever affected by silly things. like sara bareilles and dave's taverna and having 4 or more people in a bathroom at once. what has affected me and therefore changed me is so powerful that i can't ignore it. even if i try. so i have to believe it's all a part of my story for a good reason.

so. the road of life stretches forward and i look ahead, but pull a little red wagon of associations behind me. where i am is hard to explain. it's like a big sip of nostalgic, bitter-sweet tea. it's not always quite the same, but it always tastes good. it gives me the energy to walk on.