Up to today, I had survived without cooking. Between meals at the cafeteria, sandwiches and trips out of the city, I was never simultaneously hungry, in my room and in possession of that long sought after resource: free time.
To kick off my momentous first use of the kitchen, I made... spaghetti. With sauce from a jar, eaten in a a microwavable mug, with a plastic fort slight deformed from trying to stir noodles in boiling water. Super classy.
Despite my uh.. unique approach to cooking, not one of the neighbors I met commented on it. (Which was really nice) Instead, we all talked about how I could have been living there for basically a month, without having met or seen any of them. (It's actually quite a feat)
In other news, the Tour de France started. (on Saturday) :D
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