Time to Migrate back North

View from my room at Margeaux's flat

View from front door at Margeaux's



Margeaux in Hermanus being a nut as usual....


As beautiful of a place as it is here in South Africa, I have lately noticed that my pillow has become too fluffy and my sheets are too soft. It is clearly time to retreat back into the real Africa and get dirty once again. What an adventure it has been thus far, I'm not even talking about my whole African trip, just the part in Cape Town the past five weeks. I have met some great friends here that have taken me in. I've been staying with Margeaux (one of the locals) for five weeks and she is probably ready to pull her hair out...or mine.

Camps Bay is probably my favorite place on the planet. I wake up every morning and look out my window at the boulders on the beach and then walk accross Margeaux's flat and look out the other side at the Twelve Apostle mountains.

I have one last thing to do before I leave Cape Town and that is to go para gliding off of Lion's Head. Thus far I have had some wild nights out in Cape Town, I made friends with the All Blacks (New Zealand Rugby Team), swam off the coast of Africa with great whites (in a cage of course), climbed table mountain twice, saw penguins at boulders, saw whales in Hermanus, not to mention.......... actually I'm not going to mention everyone that I've met because most of them come here to get away from the fame and the money and I think it should stay that way.

Me and Alice'(from Lake Como Italy) after climbing Table Mountain

Me and the New Zealand "All Blacks" rugby team at the Table Bay


Right before cage diving

I'm a huge dork, I know.


If I was an animal from Africa I would have to say I would be the wildebeest. Not just because we look similar, but because I have basically migrated in one big circle since I got to Africa and I'm about to do it again. Maybe it is just that time of year, but I'm ready to get back in to the real Africa and get out of civilization.

When life gets too cushy, there is one place on earth that will cure the feeling....... Zimbabwe. So what am I doing.......going back to Zim. Before I head back that way I have one or two places that I want to visit before hand. I have always wanted to go to Uganda to do a gorilla trek. I have heard that is the single most amazing experience one could ever have. I also want to go to Tanzania or Kenya to see the great migration of the wildebeest.
(twelve apostles behind me)
(Liam and I)


I met a guy who owns a company that specialized in tours for celebrities and important people and it turns out that Bono is one of his clients. Everyone that knows me knows I'm Bono's most loyal stalker. I asked Malcolm if it was possible to book me the same time as Bono and to ask him if he would mind sharing a hut together. My only condition is when we wake up together every morning he has to sing to me "It's a beautiul Day!!!!"...... even if it's raining.


I want to congratulate my friend Albert Jack for his latest book "Pop goes the Weasel" for currently being #1 on the international bestsellers list in the U.K.

Dad was a great guy and I miss him....

As I sit here curled up on Marguoex's couch here in Camp's Bay, South Africa I realize it is late, and I can't sleep as usual. It seems I have had insomnia ever since my father passed away a year and a half ago. After countless failed attempts at trying to make sense of his death, I have finally accepted the fact that it will never make sense to me and remain a mystery. I don't talk about this subject very often so I am going to write a blog about it tonight.

I have read that there are several stages of grief that one goes through when they experience the loss of a loved one. I am not sure which stage I am in but I am left with a sense of frustration, furry and just plain heart break when I think about the fact that my dad is no longer here. He was not perfect, I'd be lying if I said he was, however he was my best friend, I looked up to him, adored him, and I miss the hell out of him .

I have been in Africa for a couple months now. During this time I have experienced extreme emotional highs and lows. Mostly highs, but my mind can be like a roller coaster at times. Between seeing the lions in Zimbabwe, the beautiful sunsets in Cape Town, the night rides while on safari, I still can't quit missing dad. There is no running away from a broken heart. To be honest, I thought that Africa would get my mind off of him, but instead I am constantly reminded of what a great guy he was. Valdosta is one of my favorite places, but I have such a mix between happiness and sadness in that place because behind every bend and corner there is a happy or sad memory of dad and I am continuously caught off guard by what strong emotions I still have over his loss.

When I was on safari with Nathan and Tara I remember one day that was the perfect day, and later that night we sat around the camp fire and looked at the stars. Right when I was starring into the clear African night sky thinking how wonderful of a world it is, I all the sudden choked up and had to fight to keep the tears from flooding down my face because it brought back memories of me and dad and how we used to go up into a room he built in his house where the roof could open up. In this room were telescopes and we would look at the stars together. During this memory of dad, Nathan says, "hey Jen, look at those stars", at this time I could not hold back anymore and I simply began to cry my eyes out because I thought, why can't dad be here to see the stars with me.

Being here has given me the opportunity to think long and hard about a lot of things in my life. My favorite thing to do is sit on the rocks at the beach at Camp's Bay and watch the amazing sunset. I don't think I have gotten through a single sunset without crying. It is good for me to cry, because I am trying to get to the point to where I can believe that life goes on. I have held in my emotions in for a long time about dad's death and this trip has given me time to think about the important things in life and laugh when I feel like laughing and cry when I feel like crying. It is bitter sweet because the past few weeks have been the happiest of my life, but at the same time it is frustrating when I see something beautiful and remember that dad is not here to see it with me.

According to my therapist, my father was my rock. Now that he is no longer here, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do about the "rock" situation....look for another or become my own? Dad is gone, that is the hardest thing I have ever had to admit to myself, but I don't think he is completely gone, he's just not here with me. I talk to him constantly not knowing whether he can hear me or even if he wants to hear me. But I feel most connected to him when I am in nature or when I see something beautiful.

What scares me is I still think about him all the time. A lot of times I and left frustrated and hopeless and back to thinking that no one will ever understand my loss and the new people in my life will never know what a great guy dad was and how do you explain that to someone?

Death is a reality that all humans will experience throughout their life. Why is it that during these times of loss we often feel the loneliest and like an outsider to the rest of the living world? We each have our own unique memories of the loved one that we have lost and no one in the world really knows what "you" are going through. I'm not so sure what exactly the meaning of life is, but I am going to make sure that I live each day like it were my last and try not to forget how precious and amazing it can be.

Friends in Camps Bay

Today Margeaux woke me and and took me to Constantia. There, you will find of vineyards, mountains and a beach where the surfers frequent. We met up with Tony who is one of her friends. Actually that is basically what Capetown is, it's like going to the mountain and the beach at the same time. The 12 Apostles are mountains that each have a "face" and they are in the background of Camps Bay beach.

Okay, so I am having the absolute best time of my life. I have nothing but great things to say about my new friends here in CapeTown, South Africa. This place is amazing and the most beautiful place I've ever seen in my life. I'm actually staying here longer than planned. My friend Margeaux is letting me stay with here. She is just as crazy as me and we seem to get along fabulously.

Everyday starts out at our friend James's restaurant Cafe del Mar. We call it Harry's. It over looks the beach and is spectacular. I come here for lunch almost everyday and the same five of us always end up together. Everyone keeps telling me how I lucked out to find this group of friends and they are right. They have really adopted me and I feel like we have been friends for years. The day my cell phone got stolen, Graham went out and got me one and let me have it. How cool is that. And then Margeaux insists that I come and stay with her. Last night we went into the city of CapeTown and went to a fabulous Thai restaurant. Ofcourse we ended up at James' restaurant and the to a place called Karma which pretty much lives up to its name. Earlier last night I took one too many tequila shots and they ended up catching up with me by the time I got to Karma. I didn't throw up if that is what your thinking, but today I wish I would have because this hangover may have been a little more tolerable.

Anyhow, I am reading my friend Graham book called "That's Bollocks". He is an international bestseller and I must say I get a kick out of his books. He writes under the name of Jack Albert, another good one is White elephants and red herring. Graham cooked a couple of nights for me and I must say that his spaghetti Bolognese is to die for. I also tried his lamb and that is all I have to say about that one.

More on Camp's Bay, South Africa

Camps Bay South Africa......why am I addicted to this place?

I am back in Camps Bay for the moment. This part of Africa doesn't feel like Africa at all. It kind of has a Beverly Hills-esque vibe. My days begin with a brisk jog followed by a really fattening meal which equivalates to a not so good waste-line. In my mind the two simply cancel each other out. Maybe I should consider revising my philosophy on diet and exercise seeing how my pants no longer fit.

I'm not quite sure why I'm in love with this area so much, but I am. Maybe its the beautiful beaches, maybe the fabulous array of mountains each filled with scenic hiking trails or maybe the intriguing people that strike my interest (or maybe it's just the fact that I am no longer on a train with a bunch of losers). Either way, I cannot seem to get enough of this place and I don't want to leave it. To be honest, I am frightened at how much I love it here and the fact that I lack any indication of home sickness at all. (I do miss friends and family....okay I said it).

Everything here flows but nothing seems to make a whole lot of sense which seems to be the story of my life. I stick out like a sore thumb and seem attract a lot of attention from the locals with my redneck south Georgia accent. I have learned that a dutchman in Africa is the same as a redneck in south Georgia.

Dutchmen are one thing that you won't see in Camps Bay, but you will see this little red neck trotting around in every corner. This is a swanky place, everyone is super cosmopolitan, well dressed, and then there is me, which is the total opposite. Everyone has an interesting story of how they got to where there are, too bad I can't say the same for myself.....lol. Did I really just use that disgusting expression...lol (again).

Okay, so my luck has changed and I have met some wonderful people this past week. Actually that is putting it lightly, these people have been the most hospitable, welcoming, splendid amazing folks that I could have ever imagined meeting. I'm not quite sure how I got so lucky to have met them, but I did. It all began when I went out late one night (by myself) to grab a quick bite to eat. A group of 4 nuts asked if they could sit with me. Ofcourse this was a welcomed surprise and not to mention refreshing to meet such a crazy bunch of people like myself..... I'm not sure what the common denominator between the five of us were, maybe craziness, maybe just me but either way we all seemed to click.

Actually craziness is a pre-requisite if you are a friend of mine. Why is it that we all seem to attract eachother? Nuts of a feather flock together...no thats the methloquine talking...oh shit I can't use that as an excuse because that is not until tomorrow night....heheh. Where was I going with this....so after dinner my new friends and I ended up at Dizzy's (the local watering-hole) which ironically sounds like disease.......

At Dizzy's (disease) two body guards followed us around. I was a little uneasy because I'm not sure if they were their to protect "us" or maybe to protect Andy from me. Either way, one wrong move and I have a feeling they would have tackled me to the floor in two shakes of a persian kitten's whiskers. Those body guards intimidated me with their matching black vests and microphones. I decided that I would intimidate them back with my terrifying dance moves. I had them sweating like two whores in church after about 5 minutes breaking it on the dance floor. When Jen breaks out the dance moves it usually means one of two things: 1 it is way past my bed time and I have had too much to drink or 2 I am trying to punish everyone in sight. I DO NOT DANCE and there is a reason for this.

One suggestion that I would recommend to the general population here is teeth whitening bleach. I'm not so sure why all of South Africans have butter teeth but they do. Is it the lack of flouride in their water system or just plain poor hygiene? This is a question that I am willing to get to the bottom of. I will be sure and mention to the Red Cross to include teeth whitening bleach when they send all those tiny care packages of biscuits and gravy and Grey's Anatomy re-runs.

Camps Bay, South Africa

I am back in Camps Bay for the moment. This part of Africa doesn't feel like Africa at all. It kind of has a Beverly Hills-esque vibe. My days begin with a brisk jog followed by a really fattening meal which equivalates to a not so good waste-line. In my mind the two simply cancel each other out. Maybe I should consider revising my philosophy on diet and exercise seeing how my pants no longer fit.

I'm not quite sure why I'm in love with this area so much, but I am. Maybe its the beautiful beaches, maybe the fabulous array of mountains each filled with scenic hiking trails or maybe the intriguing people that strike my interest (or maybe it's just the fact that I am no longer on a train with a bunch of losers). Either way, I cannot seem to get enough of this place and I don't want to leave it. To be honest, I am frightened at how much I love it here and the fact that I lack any indication of home sickness at all makes me wonder if I have been living on the wrong side of the earth for the past 27 years. (For the record Mimi, I do miss friends and family very very much....okay I said it).

Everything here flows but nothing seems to make a whole lot of sense which seems to be the story of my life. I stick out like a sore thumb and seem attract a lot of attention from the locals with my redneck south Georgia accent. I have learned that a dutchman in Africa is the same as a redneck in south Georgia.

Dutchmen are one thing that you won't see in Camps Bay, but you will see this little red neck trotting around in every corner. This is a swanky place, everyone is super cosmopolitan, well dressed, and then there is me, which is the total opposite. Everyone has an interesting story of how they got to where there are, too bad I can't say the same for myself.....lol. Did I really just use that disgusting expression...lol (again).

Okay, so my luck has changed and I have met some wonderful people this past week. Actually that is putting it lightly, these people have been the most hospitable, welcoming, splendid amazing folks that I could have ever imagined meeting. I'm not quite sure how I got so lucky to have met them, but I did. It all began when I went out late one night (by myself) to grab a quick bite to eat. A group of 4 nuts asked if they could sit with me. Ofcourse this was a welcomed surprise and not to mention refreshing to meet such a crazy bunch of people like myself..... I'm not sure what the common denominator between the five of us were, maybe craziness, maybe just me but either way we all seemed to click.

Actually craziness is a pre-requisite if you are a friend of mine. Why is it that we all seem to attract eachother? Nuts of a feather flock together...no thats the methloquine talking...oh shit I can't use that as an excuse because that is not until tomorrow night....heheh. Where was I going with this....so after dinner my new friends and I ended up at Dizzy's (the local watering-hole) which ironically sounds like disease.......

At Dizzy's (disease) two body guards followed us around. I was a little uneasy because I'm not sure if they were their to protect "us" or maybe to protect Andy from me. Either way, one wrong move and I have a feeling they would have tackled me to the floor in two shakes of a persian kitten's whiskers. Those body guards intimidated me with their matching black vests and microphones. I decided that I would intimidate them back with my terrifying dance moves. I had them sweating like two whores in church after about 5 minutes breaking it on the dance floor. When Jen breaks out the dance moves it usually means one of two things: #1 it is way past my bed time and I have had too much to drink or #2 I am trying to punish everyone in sight. I DO NOT DANCE and there is a reason for this.

One suggestion that I would recommend to the general population here is teeth whitening bleach. I'm not so sure why all of South Africans have butter teeth but they do. Is it the lack of flouride in their water system or just plain poor hygiene? This is a question that I am willing to get to the bottom of. I will be sure and mention to the Red Cross to include teeth whitening bleach when they send all those tiny care packages of biscuits and gravy and Grey's Anatomy re-runs.

The past two weeks have been a TRAIN WRECK....

I lay here tucked in bed wrapped in my fluffy crisp white feather-down comforter, I have decided that tonight will be a night to reflect and try to make sense of my past two weeks on the train tour.I can now laugh at what a whirlwind of hell it was because I am now in a better place. I am back in Camps Bay (Cape Town) living the good life for the next 7 days. And until then Zimbabwe can kiss it.
I think my journal says it all. All of my daily entries up until the train tour were long and detailed and very positive. Once we embarked on our journey with the Shongololo train company the days became long and miserable and my journal entries got shorter and shorter. I'm not quite sure if this happened because there was not too much to say about the tour or if I was trying to block out the memories all together.

To paint the picture for you of what the 16 day Shongololo tour was like. The atmosphere of the train was kind of like a motel 8 had sex with the circus and it was on wheels. Not only that, the train rail ties are 1/2 foot closer together in Africa than all other rail ties in the world. Basically what that means for you retards who can't figure it out on your own, it was a shaky, rattling-ass piece of shit train. And I kid you not, the Shonololo staff would always say "its time to rock and roll" when were getting ready to move, and they weren't kidding. I woke up many times in the middle of the night when we were moving thinking we had hit a bus or something, but they informed me that this jolting sensation was from the change in the electical current from one station to the next.
Now that I am back in civilization I can laugh at what a train wreck the past two weeks have been and for shits and giggles I'm going to give you a sample of what my journal entries were like over the duration of my Shongololo experience.

Day 1
This train looks and smells like shit and so do the people who run it. Rudy the train owner called Tara and I rats because she called her travel agent to complain about this instead of going to Rudy. I'm thinking this train idea is a huge mistake. Tomorrow's tour is in Swaziland at the basket market.....lucky me.
Day 2
Tara and I are the only people on this train who do not qualify for a senior citizen discount. I realize that I am going to have to continually self medicate with brandy and coke light to get through this.
Day 3
We had kudu for dinner, the rest of the day I blocked out because it reminds me of hell.
Day 4
I hate this train. I hate touring. Never again will I do an organized tour. We rode a ridiculous bus to a shitty beach in Moputo Mozambique. The city is shit. The beach sucked. I need a tranquilizer gun for myself or either be put into a self induced coma to survive another day of this velveeta fueled vortex.
Day 5
I want to die. I never imagined things could get worse. I now know what it must be like to be a prisoner in San Quinton's death row supermax......except I envy the prisoners there because for them there is hope because they know sooner or later they will be put out of there misery. Execution is more humane than this.
Day 6
I love Malaria pills because they actually make me crazier than I naturally am. Out of sheer boredom tonight, I converted our cabin on the train into a tattoo parlor and I must say, I am quite a talented artist.

OK so you get the point. To be honest, it did get better as the end approached. On one hand we did get to see a lot (a lot of shit I would never want to see and experience again) but at least I can say I became more cultured through this nightmare. I now know what all of the train stations in S. Africa, Swaziland, Lesotho, Mozambique, Botwana, Zimbabwe and Zambia look like. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE Africa, I'm just not ever setting foot on a train or a tour ever again. I hate all of the organized planning that tours entail. It's cheesy, and right when you get relaxed and start to enjoy yourself, the bitch with a whistle yells at you for being 5 minutes late to the bus where you have 10 cranky old people staring at you. I have some fabulously funny pics I can't wait to share from this trip. GOOD TIMES!!

Click Here for pictures of Memorable...I mean miserable train moments

Check out my pics of the train

Cape Town, South Africa.

Africa. As Brooks and Dunn would say "I like it, I love it and want some more of it." ( yes I'm a nerd). I have been listening to way too much Jakarandi (one of S.Africa's only radio stations), which constantly airs a smooth mix of Celine Dion, Dolly Parton, and many other talented musical artists that should be dead by now. Top 40 in non-existent in this place.

Our first week was spent in Cape Town. What a delightful place. It reminds me of California, Beverly Hills, San Francisco a little bit of everything. Tara and I rented an apartment under a couple's house. It was very nice and cheap.I went for a jog this morning from our apartment into area that has lot's of trendy restaurants and shops. The area that we are staying in has a spectacular view of Table Mountain and is in walking distance to a lot of cool shops and restaurants. 

Yesterday we climbed to the top of Table Mountain and took a cable car down.  Hiking up to the top apparently entitles me to more bragging rights. I have accumulated several of these so-called bragging rights, for instance immunity to several deadly diseases, my athletic capabilities, etc etc..... I never cease to amaze myself (or others). We drove to Stellenbosch to visit a couple wineries while in the area, the town was beautiful can't say the same about the drive over. We were stopped in traffic for a while, come to find out that one of the people from the shanties got run over and was set beside the road in a sheet and the blood that drained from the corpse was casually covered by dirt from the side of the road by two police, the body was left laying in it's own blood. No big deal for Africa, I guess.

Anyways, back to me. I have a feeling I am going to really miss Cape Town once I  begin to really rough it. As far as I'm concerned, I am getting better food and hospitality over here than at the Ritz. Tara and I had several drinks the first night and both got steaks at a gourmet restaurant for about 30 bucks with tip. That is how a lot of the stuff is over here. Our apartment we are renting is ridiculously cheap.I love this place. I love it here. It is everything I thought it would be.... and more ( I always knew I was an African at heart ). I have met some great people along the way. I wish everyone from home could come and visit................not really...hehe.

Planes, trains and......oh wait...just planes

Planes, trains and....oh wait...just planes

Getting to Africa was a trip. Thursday at 6:30 a.m. I flew out of Valdumpster to connect in Atlanta. I would like to thank the lovely staff at Executive Travel for the 8 1/2 layover before departing to Dakar. That being said, the flight to Dakar ironically took the same amount of time as my layover in Atlanta. On the plane I got seated with a Church of Christ group who were on their way to Zim to do volunteer work. (LUCKY ME!!) The first few sobering hours were spent listening to Paul from Illinois brag about how this was his 3rd time to Zim.....I also learned a lot about firestone tires as well as Christian camps...thank God I had a barf bag near by!

By ordering myself a glass of wine I figured I could pass the time and dull the pain of being seated with this nerd herd. The waitress came by and I ordered a glass of merlot. Paul did everything but spit fire in my face. His look gave the impression that I should be seated on a different flight in the first class section with a one-way ticket straght to hell. I then remembered that Church of Christ forbids drinking......ooops. This unapproving look sent me into a downward spiral of shame. I felt so guilty for ordering alcohol. After the waitress brought it, I casually tucked the (single serving) bottle of wine (along with my pride) into the chair pocket as if I never had either in the first place. I tried having small talk with Paul and soon realized our short-lived friendship was over.Moving on, we were fed some nasty curried chicken (or beef) in flight. However, I loved the swirled brownies so much I ate two. I loved them but they did not love me back.

About this time I decided that I should probably get up and check out the bathroom. I always enjoy trying to sqeez my fat butt into those jokes that they call a lavatory. I have never understood why the doors fold in, instead of out, unless this is Delta's way of adding that extra hint of humiliation to its passengers. Actually, I think they designed these for the waitress......(oh I mean sterwardesses) for comic relief. I swear they hang out on the back of the plain in herds just to make fun of everybody trying to get in and out of those pieces of shit.

So after an awkward few minutes of trying to relieve myself, I opened the door to finish my walk of shame. About that time, I looked up and noticed some pretty cool people that seemed half sober hanging out. Like a bird-dog on point I can spot alcohol from a mile away. A lightbulb went off in my head as I thought to myself "it's about damn time".This was definately a potential party brewing in the back of the plane and the only thing it was missing was me. A short little lady who calls herself Fabby(short for fabulous) asked if I wanted something to drink. My reply was....."does a rocking horse have a hickory dick?" I love that one. Everyone started cracking up and I knew this was the beginning of a beautiful evening. After being on good behavior for almost 5 hours, joining my new party friends on the back of the plane was like going to my first party in college. I was ready to rebell. I felt like an 18 year old who just moved off to college. Fabby had the hook-up. Whatever I wanted to drink was there and it was FREE. Fabby introduced me to the decoy holding a glass of wine.... Andy. As soon as the magic words (National Geographic) came out of Andy's lips, I knew we would become close friends. Soon, Andy, Fabby and myself were brewing up our own little "party in the sky". After an hour and a few drinks we were all exchanging stories as if we had been friends for years. Andy brought back his laptop and he showed me really cool shoots that they did while in Africa. That crazy asshole even jumped out of a moving boat and swam with great whites without a cage. He has hours of raw footage that he showed us. Andy was on his way to Cape Town to do some diving footage of great whites and then some lion shoots in Tanzania. He had the most amazing videos that he filmed in S.Africa. This was his 8th time coming back. Here is a goofy song that he made (i think he was probably drinking while he made it) http://www.youtube.com/user/Futbolbonita25 He said this is what got his foot in the door to N.G. He has a lot of neat stuff that airs on National Geographic. We attracted several other people that joined our party in the back gally and before long we had a crowd. Our party in the sky was a welcomed surprised and a great into to what I hope Africa will be like.

As much fun as we had, the time flew by and before I knew it, it was time to return to my seat in the buzz-kill section with the nerd herd. I returned back to my seat with a wine mustache and raisen teeth, Paul asked if I had gotten lost for 3 hours. I responded by saying that I was Catholic and I had taken communion 3 days early this week.

P.S. The girls at home threw me a wonderful going away dinner at Trippers.

What to do without the comforts of home??? This one's in the bag!

As I sit here late at night with a bag of all-natural cheese puffs in one hand, a can of aspartame filled diet root beer in the other, deep thoughts cross my mind. I wonder what Africa is really going to be like. No doubt, I totally dig the whole out-in-the-wild and nature thing and LOVE the animals over there.

I have been mentally preparing myself for the vast array of wickedly poisonous snakes, vipers, anacondas that will probably try to eat me.....


As far as deadly diseases go "BRING IT ON BITCHES!!" I got my vaccinations, which means they can't hurt me now and I am also entitled to bragging rights becaues I'M immune and YOUR not!
(except for the whole aids thing, they did not have a vaccination for that one)








There are many deadly predators in Africa, one of which is the lion. I will be at a lion breed and release project in Zim for a month and this does not scare me.


My point is I'm ready for almost everything, even the scary stuff. This leaves me with one exception that I cannot bring myself to deal with. My addiction to Americanized fast food.

EXAMPLE: (My demise): when I am in Africa, out in the middle of nowhere camping with the natives and they prepare smoked warthog, crocodile and monkey, with assorted bugs..blah blah..... thoughts of "oh shit" begin to race through my head. These dishes are not for me, and I begin to realize how partial I am to the food back at home. Many memories have been made with the friendly Wendy's staff ( who won the customer satisfations award 3 years in a row, need I say more) who have deliciously prepared their legendary chilli for me evening after evening, along with the junior frostie, ofcourse. Every time that I leave they know me so well that they always say "see ya tomorrow" Good times!! I also have uncountable memories day after day unwrapping those perfectly prepared Cheese Krystals that always exude freshness. Eating at Krystals always leaves me with a sense of complete and total satisfaction . These are my rituals and customs, am I supposed to just leave these memories at home? These are things that I am not willing to live without or ever give up.

After weeks of searching for a perfect solution to my potential crisis, I have found the answer. Just because I am on some other contenent does not mean that I will give up the good food that I am used to, and entitled to as an American. Instead of depending on stinking warthog and disease stricken monkey, I have found a more realistic option for dining while in the bush.

Through hours of research, I have found that the Red Cross has done work in Africa before. Surely they have dealt with similar situations to mine. All I'm asking is that they keep an aircraft carrier on standby and when they get the "go-ahead" from me time-to-time, they will fly over whatever bush field I am in on that particular day and unload from the sky hundreds of tiny care packages for ME, filled with Chick fil A chicken nuggets and re-runs of Grey's Anatomy etc. etc...

This idea may sound crazy to some, but to me it's the only thing that makes sense. It's not like everytime I have a fast food craving I can just borrow an elephant to ride to the nearest village, where you KNOW there won't be any good restaurants.

Africa, bitching, blogging and unpacked

Africa...bitching, blogging and unpacked Category: Travel and Places
Ok, so I'm beginning to get excited,anxious and nervous about my trip to Africa all at the same time. How does one pack for a 10 week journey to a place that they have never been? Instead of actually doing it, I will probably continue to complain and bitch about it until the last possible minute.Why is procrastination, such an irresistable urge for most? I'm sure I will be asking myself this same question in a few days.
"Why are you going to Africa", you ask. Other than the fact that it is an excuse to dress like a total douche for 10 weeks, I'm not so sure. Ann Taylor and the Gap just don't get it. "More pockets" people. It must be some type of requirement over there to have at least 7 different kinds of pockets on all shirts and shorts.
At 5'2", I'm not particularly thrilled about the fact that all the "shorts" come down below the knees and in my case the shins. I tried on my new "Safari" wardrobe and I couldn't decide if I looked more like a jacked up elf or a lephrecaun that isn't so lucky. Either way I probably wouldn't make much for a hunter because looking like this, even the wildebeests and warthogs wouldn't take me seriously. And the hyena's.....need I say more.