My first mistake was letting my Corona Village withdrawals take over and move me to go. When you haven't eaten anything that even comes close to resembling spicy for three months, you start to get cold sweats, nausea, and the shakes. Just like an ex-smoker misses holding a cigarette in hand, my fingers were desperate to hold a corn chip weighed down with a good salsa.
My second mistake was believing my teacher when she told me it would be good, authentic, mexican food. I don't think she's ever had real mexican food. But it's not her fault. She's from spain and mexico is quite a ways away from spain the last time I checked.
The first plate was chips and salsa. The second, a quesadilla made up of what tasted like a few pieces of melted american cheese between flour tortillas. Next came the "tacos," which, in spain, means mini burritos that your little brother made when he got home from school every day--in fourth grade. Seriously, I've made better "tacos", and I don't remember ever making tacos in my life.
This was not a real mexican restaurant. It was a house of lies.
On a more serious note, this week I read Don Miller's "Blue Like Jazz." Honestly, I thought I was going to hate it, but I couldn't put it down. It was a great book and I'm going to refrain from saying any more on the subject because it will make up my next post. Also, I got back from morocco a week from tomorrow. I'll get some better pictures from my friends, but I'll put one on here to keep you interested. I guess that will take up another post as well.
Today, I'm thankful for what God has been teaching me through the aforementioned book. He has given me some amazing insight from the place I least expected it--an emergent sympathizing best-selling Christian author. This may have been the first really popular Christian book I've ever read. If the author is still alive it means it's not worth reading, right? Just kidding.
Good night.
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