Within three days of leaving France, this is what I’ve managed to do so far in the strange land of America:

  • Made a French couple think I was French by speaking French on the plane to Reykjavik
  • Cried five times on the plane to DC
  • Sobbed on Iszi and Pat
  • Stared at how big everything in America is
  • Inhaled my first peanut butter sandwich in seven months
  • Grabbed a box of chocolate from my mom because it had French on it
  • Felt like a snob because I eyed the pastries at Trader Joe’s in disdain…where are my pains au chocolat?
  • Drank some of Iszi’s chai frap and agreed that it tasted like America
  • Cried on Madeline
  • Winced at how loud everything in America is
  • Accidentally used French with my non-Francophone friends…at least it was just an “au revoir” that slipped out, and not something more tragic in a formal setting
  • Cried over a letter addressed to my brother in the mailbox
  • Eaten fried rice three days in a row
  • “Unpacked” by carrying everything upstairs to my bed and then moving it all to my desk or to the floor

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