I'm back from O-dot. I tried to write a little bit of an update from there but my girlfriend's keyboard has some crazy French thing going on so that my punctuation was all messed up. I'm not claiming to be some sort of punctuation expert or grammarian, but it is nice to have the feeling you're typing like a professional Englishman. I suppose I could've attempted some sort of French-language blog but it would get a little redundant with me repeating my age, how I'm doing, and my name. Besides, I don't know the French word for fingernail.

I drank Heineken from a can for the first time ever.

Anyhow, I had an excellent time in Ottawa. Somehow, my girlfriend suddenly learned how to cook. Her earlier claims to an aversion towards cooking gave me the impression that the extent of her culinary expertise didn't go beyond Kraft dinner and omelletes. She cooked me pasta with shrimp and she shelled the shrimp herself. Removing the guts from those underwater creatures made her vomit, but she did it anyway. She didn't just vomit because she was disgusted, she vomitted because she loves me. Oh, and the food was excellent.

I went to a Burundian festival on Saturday night. I wouldn't say it was as much of a festival as it was a exposition of African music. I enjoyed mixing with my friends, eating, drinking, and boogeying like a man who's ancestors have been rhythmically repressed for four hundred years.

My good friend, John Luimes, gave me a ride home. He drove all the way from Renfrew to Ottawa and back to Renfrew just for me. How much did the whole trip cost? One coffee and a junior bacon cheeseburger from Wendy's. Pretty good.

Oh, and the Confederates are losing the fingernail war to the Union troops, which is a bad thing (in this case.)