But if I'm going to tell the truth, the whole truth... I'll start a little farther back.
We arrived home at 3am and, with exhuasted legs, I climbed the stairs up to my room. I kicked my shoes off and headed for bed, before realizing my overwhelming desire for sleep was paralleled with an uncontrollable desire for food. Luckily I had over-calculated my pasta portion the day before, and still had a tupperware container full of spaghetti waiting in my mini fridge. I considered the amount of time it would take to walk back down to the kitchen and warm it in the microwave. As we say nowadays, "Ain't NOBODY got time for that." I took the container, grabbed a fork, and slid under my covers. With each bite, the amount of time that the spaghetti lingered on my fork before entering my mouth continued to grow. Eventually, it never made it to the final destination.
When I woke up sometime in the late afternoon, I found noodles in my hair and sauce all over my sheets. It was honestly one of the most embarrassing, yet hilarious moments of my life. I can't accurately describe how pathetic I looked with the remainder of my cold spaghetti mashed all over myself and my sheets. After hiding the evidence as best I could, I gingerly picked up my shower caddy and smiled my way down the hall. As horrible as I felt, I was halfway proud of what a success my first night out in Paris had been. Here is another picture of our group before Wanderlust.
After vegging out for a couple of hours, my phone started buzzing with the greatest news I had received since my journey in Paris begun. Persia was cooking hamburgers, and invited me to dinner! Never in my life did I expect to have TWO red-meat meals for two consecutive days in Europe! Within thirty seconds my motivation went from being non-existent to sky high; I jumped out of bed and put my shoes on.
Immediately when I entered the kitchen in Fondation du Cambodge (Cambodian Foundation) my mouth started watering. The burgers had just a couple of minutes left and I could barely contain myself. I hugged Persia, probably seeming a little bit insane, but unable to accurately describe my appreciation in any other way. I am so thankful for the friends I have made here at Cite Universitaire, and the support system we have created together.
Our substitute grill consisted of a cake pan lined with aluminum foil, placed in a less-than commercial grade microwave oven. When the spicy, hand-made patties were finished simmering in their juices - with light pink centers and cheese on top - Persia pulled them out and we stared in awe. There were freshly sliced cucumbers, onions, tomatoes, and lettuce, along with mayonnaise and ketchup to dress them with. I was having it "my way" and I wasn't even at Burger King!
Afterwards, Persia, Isabelle and I decided to get our laundry done. Since I still had spaghetti sauce on my sheets, it seemed like the best way to spend my evening anyways. We made our way from room to room and filled our laundry totes before piling it all into the washers. As the loads tumbled in circles, so did our words; the conversation continued late into the night. Finally we were folding the last of our clothes and saying our goodbyes.
There wasn't much to report today, but I have to admit it was one of my best days yet. Each morning I wake up and look out my window, I am reminded how fortunate I am to be here. The friends I have made and the experiences we have shared are irreplaceable, and I am forever gracious.
Merci beaucoup, mon Dieu.
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