French Omelet

Burger King now doesn’t open ‘til 11 on Sundays, so there goes our on-base backup breakfast. We went to McD’s. It’s so annoying when people jack with a good routine, but McD’s was okay. And probably a little healthier ‘cause they don’t have the hash browns. “Brash browns,” Wee Laddie calls ‘em.

They call it an “omelet” on base when there are lots of people here from lots of different countries for training. It’s my favorite time here, because it feels very international and it feels like we, as Americans, are not the hated ones. No matter how much we all may disagree with the way our country handles foreign policy (or not), it’s nice to feel like we have some support, even if it comes from people who may not agree with the way their own country handles foreign policy. But it gives me a little kind of “world peace could maybe work” kind of jab.

It’s also fun to see the different uniforms from different countries. They all have their own camouflage designs. Who knew? There’s one country (I want to say Belgium) that has camouflage with purple, teal and like a rusty yellow. I so need to get a photo of it. I said to Guitarman, “Where are they trying to blend in with those colors?” He said, “Uh… South beach?” The French have, hands down, the worst hats. They are berets (shocking, I know), but they are huge. I was going to say that they look like black Frisbees, but Frisbees aren’t big enough. They look like black pizzas on their heads… and the funniest thing is if you see a group of like 20 of them walking down the street.

Insanely hot again. I know, it’s like 100 degrees back home and only 93 or so here, but it feels so much worse here. I don’t know if it’s the humidity or the lack of good air conditioners, but I don’t even want to leave the house. Except that it’s too hot in the house, too.