Once upon a time, I was hanging out with one of my best friends, with whom I share the most unusual relationship. As always, the long conversations turn to music, our latest favorites and newest sensations. We take turns sharing Youtube videos, singing, and dancing like loons together. The songs, much like our relationship, skirt the fine line of hopeless looming romance and positive hopefulness. But that is fine either way.
It was my turn. I was playing a song about strength, perseverance, and the power of emotional unseen things. And it has this fantastic drum solo in the middle, perfect for dancing with wild abandon. After listening to a few lines, my friend spoke up. "Are you hungry?" "Sure, what do you have to eat?" "What about quesadillas? (wait for it....) peanut butter and jelly quesadillas?" It was a molten explosion of flavor in my mouth, amazing. But the rest of the story goes, the tortillas were too large for the quesadilla maker, but we used them anyway. And mid-dance the jelly bubbles over and starts to burn. (The quesadillas were saved though, don't worry!) This didn't happen last time, my friend explained, but they had smaller quesadillas last time.