Starch

My life has gotten rather starchy in a few ways.

First, I'm going to share something rather intimate with you all. All 2000 of you.

My underwear. It's like sandpaper. I probably wouldn't tell you this if everyone on my program hasn't been chatting about this situation for the last week. Not only is my underwear as starchy as a potato, so is everyone else's. And it comes to me folded and ironed, too. My underwear, crunchy as corn flakes, is ironed and folded neatly. I'd say, "Haven't they heard of dryer sheets" but seeing as they have no dryers, that makes sense. They would know what to do with a dryer sheet as much as they would with a dog leash here (see post below). I was about to compare the outcome of laundry here to something else, but there is just really no word besides starchy. I feel like Little House on the Prairie, all starched and fresh, but kind of stiff.

Speaking of starch, I'm totally going gluten-free when I get home. Every single meal I eat here has a potato component and a bread component, generally complemented by a fish and/or cheese arrangement, paired with some veggies. Mostly, potato and bread. Today was potato with tomato and zucchini. Last night was pizza. Tomorrow is a roll, likely with an omelette of potatoes on it. And UNESCO really did 'protect' this diet. I still don't even know how one 'protects' a diet but I'm going to boycott it soon.
My festive Rosh Hashana meal, tomorrow, will likely be bread, and potatoes. Welcome to the Old Country. (JK the food's delish, but I just can't even think about how my breakfast will be toast.)

Speaking of toast, here's a toast to one month of starchiness. While my stomach might be filled with complex sugar compounds and my tush might be covered in cardboard, my mind is so not starch. I feel free, happy, light, flexible, relaxed, and healthy. I also feel full, from way too much food. And full of excitement  when ridiculously awesome things happen, as well as ridiculously trivial things happen.

As I bopped down the street listening to In The Heights and Bon Jovi, I thought "Gee, isn't this great?" And all I was doing was sweating my starchy self to school. I was superpsyched about walking down the street. In 95 degrees. To school.

If you put a Saltine, the ultimate starchsample, on your tongue, it begins to dissolve and it tastes like sugar. This takes a really long time and usually I just end up eating the Saltine but that's not the point.

No matter how starchy things get, I know that it breaks down into something that's basically, sugary sweet.