Home For Christmas--First Impressions
First of all, it's not even 11am yet and I've been awake for three hours--without an alarm. For the next few days, until my body adjusts to this time zone, I'm experiencing the wondrous phenomenon commonly known as "morning person-ness." If I felt like this all mornings, I wouldn't whine so much about my 9 am classes (or the 10 am ones, for that matter).
Last night, after an 8 hour flight from Madrid, a short layover in Philadelphia, and another short flight, I reached my marathon (3 hours) layover in Charlotte, NC. It was 7pm eastern time, but my body was pretty sure it was 1 am, and I was starving, so I immediately set out for some good southern food and beverage. Little did I know I would spend 45 minutes walking past restaurants, completely in awe of the variety of fast foods, the southern American accents all around me, and the flood of signs and advertisements, all in English. For a while, I felt disoriented, like I was a little out of place. The wonder soon faded to extreme hunger and exhaustion, however, and I managed to get through a line and collapse at a table with my Carolina Pit BBQ sandwich (slaw on the side) and sweet tea. And I had only said "Gracias" to one person behind the counter.
Ahhh--sweet nectar of life! Sweet tea in the south comes in three sizes: large, huge, and gluttony. I went straight for the G-sized tea and dove in as if it were an oasis in a carbonated, sugarless desert. My lips puckered with the oversweetness of the first sip, but as it hit my throat and the taste began to settle I sighed and smiled--pure gold. If there were an ocean of sweet tea, I'd be the first to swim in it. If I were stranded on a desert island but had a lifetime supply of sweet tea, I wouldn't complain. I love sweet tea more than chocolate--that's how much I love it.
Of course, seeing my family is wonderful, too. My mom and I both cried a little at the airport (she and I are cut from the same emotional cloth--no surprise there!), and it's been great just to hang out with them last night and this morning. Now I'm off to do a little shopping, and probably dive into some more sweet tea. I'm an addict, and I don't care.
Last night, after an 8 hour flight from Madrid, a short layover in Philadelphia, and another short flight, I reached my marathon (3 hours) layover in Charlotte, NC. It was 7pm eastern time, but my body was pretty sure it was 1 am, and I was starving, so I immediately set out for some good southern food and beverage. Little did I know I would spend 45 minutes walking past restaurants, completely in awe of the variety of fast foods, the southern American accents all around me, and the flood of signs and advertisements, all in English. For a while, I felt disoriented, like I was a little out of place. The wonder soon faded to extreme hunger and exhaustion, however, and I managed to get through a line and collapse at a table with my Carolina Pit BBQ sandwich (slaw on the side) and sweet tea. And I had only said "Gracias" to one person behind the counter.
Ahhh--sweet nectar of life! Sweet tea in the south comes in three sizes: large, huge, and gluttony. I went straight for the G-sized tea and dove in as if it were an oasis in a carbonated, sugarless desert. My lips puckered with the oversweetness of the first sip, but as it hit my throat and the taste began to settle I sighed and smiled--pure gold. If there were an ocean of sweet tea, I'd be the first to swim in it. If I were stranded on a desert island but had a lifetime supply of sweet tea, I wouldn't complain. I love sweet tea more than chocolate--that's how much I love it.
Of course, seeing my family is wonderful, too. My mom and I both cried a little at the airport (she and I are cut from the same emotional cloth--no surprise there!), and it's been great just to hang out with them last night and this morning. Now I'm off to do a little shopping, and probably dive into some more sweet tea. I'm an addict, and I don't care.
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