The American Experience

It turns out that a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (I'm deferring to the Americans for these last few days — just keep thinking 'jam' lest the language infection gets to you too) isn't quite as disgusting as it sounds. It's rather nice, actually; the jelly (no, I'm sorry, I'm now having visions of a jelly sandwich, wobbling all over the place. I may not have totally lost my roots, it seems) prevents the peanut butter from sticking to the roof of your mouth as well as providing a sweet contrast to the slightly bitter butter.

Um, yes. Do I think about these things too much?

It all started on Sunday night, when Laura was shocked to discover that I had only then ordered my first take-out pizza. Further questioning revealed that there's many American things that I haven't experienced, and she vowed to make sure I didn't go home without doing some of them. Hence the sandwich and the braiding of styrofoam packing (that one might not be a American tradition. Just in case you decide to turn up for the braiding).

Two days left. Staying happy until the end…

currently playing: Idlewild - American English
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