visiting a foreign country

We’re in America (in Upper Peninsula Michigan, which is full of motels that look like the Winchesters would stay there. We concluded, however, that they would probably be smart enough to avoid the nearby one called ‘Sleepy Hollow’.), and I left my tablet charger at home, so I’ve been offline since it ran out of battery. Oops.

American food seems to all be either very salty or very sweet. Also I have not been here enough since Obama’s election to get used to the fact that commercials now much more regularly feature people of color, particularly African-Americans, than they did before his election so I’m startled and pleased anew every time one comes on.

I am considerably less pleased by the horrific drug ads, and I don’t know what that thing with Paris Hilton and the burgers is except offensive.

When we got here and were collected by the in-laws, we all got into the car and although I *knew* what was going on, I was so tired I couldn’t help saying, “We’re on the wrong side of the road…” as we drove out of the airport. It’s like visiting a foreign country, it really is.