Coffee

I always hated coffee. I would avoid that aisle at the grocery store so that I wouldn't have to smell the beans. I remember one year at Thanksgiving, the only time of year we ever pulled out our coffee maker (green, 70s style) my sister poured herself a cup claiming that she liked to hold it and smell it. Huh? But now I understand. Since Starbucks and such places took over the western world and everyone "meets for coffee" (I meet for hot chocolate) I've grown accustomed to and even enjoy the smell of coffee. Sometimes it's too strong. Sometimes Peet's coffee grinds make me want to throw up. But sometimes, when my roommate has been making coffee in the mornings, my apartment reminds me of my grandmother and of Thanksgiving, and that is nice.