On Being Odorous

i smell like rained-on-dirt, onions and crushed leaves.

at least, my armpits do.

and it doesn't really bother me (like i would think it would). maybe i was french in a former life. who knows? but i'm starting to feel like we try too hard to smell like not the earth. i mean, granted, i don't think i'd want to smell everyone with that particular "color" body aroma all the time but on the flip side of that: the obsessive compulsive drive to smell like gardenias and jasmine and floaty yellow things has to be balanced somewhere with the acceptance of our rise from the brown earthiness from which all these other things grow too.

body odor, like so many other culturally uncomfortable things, are a part of life. one more thing to mask and cover up to pretend that we are flowers instead of people.

just a thought...