After a long day full of Egyptian food, the girls in my flat discovered that Pizza Hut delivers 24 hours a day all over Ca*ro, including our neighborhood.

In other words, a miracle arrived on our doorstep 30 minutes later.

That’s cheese pizza and yes, the cheese here is weird.  Everything else tasted the same — the bread and the sauce.  But the cheese… well, it was different.

Not that we were complaining.  Y’all we went crazy over that pizza.  In fact, there was actual dancing in the flat when we placed the order. 

And if that wasn’t enough, our host organization had put bottles of Pepsi and 7-Up in our fridge.  It was like Christmas morning or something.

We didn’t even use plates.  Who has time for plasticware when there’s actual pizza to be eaten?

That’s Katie, another of the girls in my flat.  She’s adorable.  Gosh, they all are, if you want to know the truth.

After dinner I was talking about how I didn’t know what to do with my hair because I wanted to wash it that night but knew it would look awful by the morning.  Darling Hannah told me I should do “t-shirt curls” and I was all “WHAT?  THERE IS A WAY OF CURLING YOUR HAIR THAT I DON’T ALREADY KNOW ABOUT?” 

It turns out that you can take pieces of an old t-shirt, wrap your hair around the pieces and then tie the ends of the pieces of t-shirt into knots.  You then sleep with it wrapped up like that and, in the morning, you wake up with perfect curls.

The problem was that we didn’t have an old t-shirt to cut up, nor did we have scissors.  So, I did the only thing I knew to do:

That’s right.  I took a knife to my favorite Starlite t-shirt and ripped it to shreds.  Sorry, favorite Starlite t-shirt, but nothing comes between me and perfect curls.

I took a quick shower (seeing as we don’t actually have hot water) and then Hannah began her magic.

 Before long, I was all tied up in knots.

 I slept on it all night and woke up to the tightest corkscrew curls I’ve ever seen (and they were completely dry, something that surprised me).  Hannah took the t-shirt pieces out of my hair, grabbed a few hairpins and created this:

It only took her three minutes to put all that hair up, which is pretty darn close to a miracle of itself but I don’t want to talk about miracles anymore because then it’ll make me start thinking about that pizza again and I just saw them set dinner on the table and I DO NOT RECOGNIZE A THING THEY PUT OUT.

Send more peanut butter.  Stat.

(P.S. – Today someone made this cane sugar drink thing-y for us and I was going to be brave and try it because I didn’t want to be rude.  Right as I went to take a sip, the girl behind me — who happens to be a mother of two — says “Wow, this tastes exactly like bre*stmilk.”  Delicious, no?)