My birthday was yesterday.

Pop-quiz, hot shots. You’re in a third world country. You miss American food. It’s your birthday. What does Theresa do?

Throw a party and cook up a storm. As if there was any doubt.

Seriously. You know you’ve made good friends when you promise free food, and when they show up, they hand you a bottle of whiskey, kick you out of the kitchen, and proceed to do a far better job of feeding everyone than you ever coud have. Mom, I promise I really do more than just party here!

It was great to hang out with our teachers and show them some American food. They loved pancakes and Irish Coffee, but didn’t go for the grits or scrambed eggs; however, I managed to convert several of my felow stagaires to the cult of salty grits (thanks, Phil!).

Also, I have about 23423424 pounds of corn meal that I don’t know what to do with. See, you’d think that when you buy dried corn, then have it ground, you’d have a smaller volume of corn meal than when you had corn kernels. Well. Turns out that corn has a property of Fucking Weird Magical Explosion, which causes the volume to TRIPLE when you grind it. Good thing I had Lyle as my marché bitch to carry it back to our training building. Hehe.

In other news, we’ve made the switch to 100% French during training. It’s a lot of fun, except my vocabulary is more limited that I’d previously thought. So, if anyone knows how to translate “I’d hit it” or “bangable” into French and/ or Fon, please leave a note in the comments. Other than that, life is good, fuck the Yankees, and please send snail mail.

PS. Thanks for all of the birthday wishes!
PPS. Field trip tomorrow! Best week ever!