At least I have my HAND....

Growing up I was always close to my family. It has just become recently that people have started getting loose screws, and some relatives have sadly drifted apart. What does this have to do with South Africa you ask? Well I have met my new favorite, crazy, aunt Hellen.
"SHUT UP, JUST STOP TALKING AND BRING ME MY PRAWNS... YOU DO NOT NEED TO KNOW IF MY APPETIZER IS GOOD, JUST GO GET MY FOOD, I AM HUNGRY" Is what I heard being screamed across the dining room of the proper restaurant in my resort. I was sitting with one of the executives from Harrah's and he said, "oh, thats Hellen, she is a one of the poker players for the event. She is a bit crazy, don't mind her." "PLEASE" I said, "You MUST ask her to join us for dinner, she is all alone!" Nervous about having her at our dinner table, I was obliged, and Hellen was invited over....
Standing about 5 feet tall, fairly large boobies, pretty redish brown hair up in a quaff, and glitzy diamonds, this loud little drunk Chinese lady came to sit beside me. We carried on for about 3 hours, drinking bottle after bottle of wine talking about poker, about relationships, sex, and about how hard it is to be human. Needs, wants, desires, flaws, and how hard it was for her end her marriage after 30 years. "You must have an out. Everybody needs an out from reality, and poker is MY OUT! I will teach you!" said Hellen.
After groaning about having to leave my hotel room for the week and check into the "CHALLET" aka the HUT FROM HELL that I moaned and groaned about in my previous blog, Hellen yelled "NO, GO GET YOUR BAGS, YOU ARE SLEEPING IN MY ROOM!" (Picture a little Chinese lady accent because thats how it sounds! ) She pushed her room key in my pocket and told me to meet her in the casino after I dropped off my bags...

Only I would meet a 60 year old poker playing, chinese fire-cracker, and 3 hours later be invited to sleep in her bed while in Africa. Needless to say, I was too uncomfortable to take her up on her offer so I proceeded to my hell hut.

The next morning I was told I was being transferred to a deluxe suite hut, so I packed my things and met Drew by the pool! Beth was playing her final table in the casino and drew and I were chatting when Hellen came bombing over! "COME ON, WHERE IS THE LIQUOR, WAITRESS! GIVE ME SOME PRAWNS!"
Please keep in mind, we are poolside at a safari resort, there isn't a waitress in SITE, and you have a better chance of being eaten by a lion than you do a waitress hearing you scream!
Finally the publicist for the event heard Hellen and brought out one of the hotel bartenders, who then became our poolside waitress.
Within minutes, Hellen was asking me about my tattoo's and Drew told her about the star I had on my wanker. "NO, THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE, YOU ARE TRYING TO MAKE ME THINK YOU HAVE TATTOO... SHOW ME YOUR PENIS, I DO NOT BELIEVE YOU!"
I was mortified as the 6 other guests stared at me waiting for me to whip out my privates in front of this 60 year old chinese lady! Needless to say, I gave in, and had her calling me the big dipper for the rest of the day.
That night we caught wind there was a booze cruise South African style on the river! Hellen and I could not have signed up any faster! "I pay for you Jasen. It my treat! We drink and get out of this dump, lets go buy jumpers so we are not cold on the water" After buying everyone in the gift shop clothing, and "EXTRA INCASE SOMEONE GET COLD" she screamed, we walked to the yacht....

As we sat down to get our drinks, Hellen ordered us, and the 12 other passengers double cocktails. When the bartender began to pour the cola into the jack on the rocks, Hellen screamed "NO DO NOT POUR, I WANT JUST TO POUR MYSELF, NEVER POUR AGAIN!"

You can read his mind... OK CRAZY LADY, I GIVE YOU HOW YOU LIKE... DONT KILL ME!!

Now, I realize I make Hellen sound mean, loud, and abrasive, but that is because she is.... On the flip side, I think she is one of the most caring, lovely, motherly type women I have ever met!  After living years of suppression and that combined with perhaps being Chinese, Hellen has an edge to her that most 60yr old little ladies do not have. I am in love........

Can you not see the tenderness in her look and touch. I really want to move in with Aunt Hellen!

As we departed down the river I took some breath taking views of South Africa that really made me almost tear up!

Hellen took this! She made me pose with my profile! Not flattering!

Apparently I have a reputation around here now for being a bit loud. Now that my new best friend is Hellen, and she is the loudest little chinese woman you have EVER heard/ seen in your life, people are doing me favors... Today the girl at the front dest told me how to go into town and get the best sleeping pills on the market! Then she arranged for our group to take a driver into the city of Johannesburg where we could shop at the markets and get crafts and art from locals! It was PHENOMENAL!

The jewelry was AMAZING, and the craftsmanship was so beautiful. There was silver gold and diamonds for THOUSANDS, and cheaper costume jewelry for cheap!  I spent tons of money. ALL OF THE SUDDEN I SAW WHAT I NEEDED. There was an artist there that had been crafting out of steel. HUGE pieces and very expensive. A particular piece caught my eye and I had to buy it! It was 6,700 Zar. Obviously I didnt have the money on my to barter for it so Hellen screamed at me. "HERE TAKE THIS AND DO NOT SUFFER OVER DECISION." I didn't want to take her wad of cash but she insisted, so I added it to my remanning Zar (or REND as the call it) and purchased this piece... NOW HOW DO I GET IT HOME?!

]

THIS SHOULD BE GOOD AT THE AIRPORT....

And I may be alone here in africa, but now.... AT LEAST I HAVE MY BIG HAND!!!!

Being Alone...

Being alone is not just a physical or metaphysical feeling. Alone usually refers to the condition of solitude. However, to FEEL alone can be even worse than just sitting by yourself in a room.

I have traveled to a country where one can spend thousands of dollars in minutes. Whether it be on diamonds, gold, or a luxurious experience. I am in a place where you can be whisked away by a private concierge into a shopping haven only to be  kidnaped and thrown into the most dangerous, poverty stricken, ghetto or hostel environment you have ever seen.

It was explained to me by my driver yesterday that driving through certain parts of Johannesburg, South Africa, WILL lead to death. After commuting from a remote "resort" into town for shopping or any type of activity, it becomes apparent that Joberg, and its surrounding areas happen to be one of the scariest places on earth.

I have never seen so many desperate people in my life! Staggering down the freeway in work suits, walking for miles to provide for their families. A country where poverty is the majority, and if your life isn't threatened by a human, an animal could eat you alive on your way through town. I have never been so unsettled in my life.

I was temporarily assigned to a 4 star hotel room. (the stars of course were assigned by the south african board of commission, NOT by your standard system. IE; W Hotel times square 4 stars)
This hotel has rooms that are hygienic. I have been sleeping on a mattress free of mites (so i pray), but more uncomfortable than a bus seat on the Greyhound. A staff that keeps to their duties out of obligation, and zero regard for customer service.

This 4 star hotel has been over booked this week due to the WSOP. As explained in my last blog, I was not going to be able to sleep in the Emerald Resort, standard room for long.
The "Chalets" as they refer to them are proper HUTS, 3 km. from the actual hotel. Covered in bugs, no phones or showers in the rooms, these "economy" rooms are fit for sleeping, but only as a last resort. Had I been used to wilderness camping, or a homeless person, Id fancy this situation a bit.

I have been subjected to a way of life that has opened my eyes to what America has to offer. Being unhappy means turning your back on the accommodations provided and traveling down the freeway a mile or so to a better fit. Here, its take cover, pray for safety, and scratch until you bleed from the bugs. UNLESS you are in the proper casino building which bumped ME out because of over crowding.

Dont get me wrong, I respect camping. I think those who choose to go on an adventure, and are fully prepared with ammunition, food and water, walkie talkies, and most times their POWER IN NUMBERS. In this case being forced into the hut was NOT MY CHOICE.

I have felt alone the times I haven't been with Beth and Drew, knowing there was no such thing as "customer service." Once we all turned in for bed, it was a free for all, whether it be animals, bugs, or criminals coming to infringe upon my safety.

Whats worse about being here, is not the solidarity I find at times, nor is it the danger in whats around me. It is knowing I am ALONE. The people who love me in the US, not ever being able to understand what I am going through. People saying "suck it up and deal with it, or just COME HOME."

Life doesn't work that way.  Unfortunately, when I sign up for something, I can not just hop on a plane and fly home. Some experiences I've signed up for in NYC, I can "escape," but being completely across the world, I must suffer through the cards dealt.

I want to add, experiencing the world through different eyes is a blessing. I am so lucky to see this type of life, to push my feet through this dirt and see how some people live life. I am grateful to be safe at the moment and NOT held captive by a native for ransom.  But to have the feeling of being ALONE is profound. Explaining my conditions to loved ones, and to not have them comprehend my fear, discomfort, or surroundings, truly makes me feel alone...

That being said, God bless the children around me. I feel pain for the men and women who are terrified for their lives on a daily basis just by LIVING in this country. The statistics involving AIDS are astounding, and rape and robbery are just an epidemic.

I may feel alone now, but I have the blessing of coming home to NYC and recovering. The people of JoBerg do not.

Alone is not just a condition of solitude I have learned, It is a very real feeling and state of mind.

REALLY... MONKEY GLAND SAUCE?

One thing I can certainly relate to about South African culture is MALL LIFE. One of the most facinating things about this place is how many INTENSE shopping complexes they have. Think mall of America, or King of Prussia, or for my Jersey folk Garden State Plaza. There are towns full of hostel environments and shanty's with no running water or power, and the next block, THE INTERCONTINENTAL and a 67,758 square foot mall. Thats 5 thousand more sq ft than KOP, swear, google it.

Some things I can NOT relate to are their hotel rating system, desire to eat strange things, and ability to glorify a room with a bed better than any other country and call it a "HOTEL"

Before I complain I want to ephasize what a BEAUTIFUL dinner I had last night at this steak house in the mall area. With steak knives made of giraffe bone, and kudo horn. Some of the best foods I have ever eaten. There was also options for sides of "MONKEY GLAND SAUCE" and chicken legs....

Giraffe bone/ Kudo Horn steak knives

REALLY? 10K dollar knives and no electricity down the street?

Yes thats right, MONKEY GLAND SAUCE...

So after deciding of the filet, and passing on the actual chicken fingers for an appy,

Now don't get me wrong, I am up for trying new things, as encouraged by my friend Matt Bell, but I wanted to just eat my steak.

After dinner the host's brother, who was so kind, took me for a tour of the meat locker. It was so fascinating to see where my meat cam from, and at the level of quality that this butcher kept, I was not grossed out. What's funny, is how this view, was not kept from anyone who wanted to stroll past while eating dinner...

And then I was peer pressured to eat some Bull Tongue....  I thought Id never get though it, but little did I know it would be the most PLEASANT thing to happen to me this week.

 

It tasted what Id imagine beef jerky to taste like with a bit more freshness and flavor. Giving that the hosts of the dinner were so generous and wonderful, I couldn't insult them by saying NO WAY YOUR MEAT IS GROSS... So I just took it. And to be honest, it was BETTER than a slm jim.

When I got back to my hotel room, that I didnt know was going to be ripped out before me the next morning, I thought, "Awe how cute! The ladies made my bed sheets look like a Vagina." Little did I know this pseudo vagina was going to be the BEST thing I could ever wish for in South Africa. As I curled up into my cotton labia, I allowed my ambian to kick in and take me to the next morning despite the "jungle tunes" I could hear from the hallway out side my room.

Go ahead, tell me my bed doesn't have "labia"

Beth and I planned a wonderful day shopping for ACTUAL African crafts and authentic jewelry in the "unsafe" part of town, to ensure authenticity. Lets be honest, nobody wants a Nigerian knock off.

Once we returned to the hotel with our bounty, I received notice that I had to change rooms to accommodate "some high roller" poker players.  You know me, I am a suppressed diva who likes a nice thread count and a SICK SHOWER, or just a door that locks will be fine....
Well I was being moved to the "CHALLET"
I fought and fought. ALMOST CRIED, until I found out the head of the casino, who happens to be hot, lives in a "pimped out version of these" So I graciously appeased.
Upon arrival up a 2 mile trek out side the resort, I arrived at what looks like my fathers tool shed. ALL GLASS DOORS, that hardly lock, safe right.  The mosquito's in the HUT were overwhelming so I ran to my bed to cry, except it was more like a twin sized box spring covered in faux fur blankets. I DIE....
The amount of bugs made me want to run out but being that I was in the middle of the african hills, surrounded by criminals and dangerous animals, I figured I could wash up, take drugs and go to sleep.
Um NO, guess what NO SHOWER... There is what I called a poop room. (yeah you guessed it, Gas station  like facilities). Im not a whiner and an complainer, but this is ROUGHING IT at its most, with 0 pay off...

Im sorry, I cant even be funny under these conditions. Whats also weird, was I had to LOCK myself in using a KEY, so i cant even get drunk enough to stumble out and feed myself to a lion or something....
LORD HELP ME.

Oh wanna see whos sitting on my "front lawn"

At least I'd rather die from a pussy whipping than a mosquito bite causing malaria.

Sure as shit NOT IN KANSAS anymore Toto...

It was nice to sit and relax yesterday. Our day began having a typical south African lunch consisting of chicken with various sauces to choose from, buffalo  or salad. Beth, Drew and I opted for Chicken...  I took mine grilled with a side of chica-chica sauce, it was a mix between honey mustard and chica (i have no idea). Breakfast sort of scares us here as we are not sure why the dining halls smell like curry at this time, and none of us trust the eggs or what they call bacon. Trust a fattie, BACON DON'T LOOK LIKE THIS....
After a beer or two, we all strolled down to the pool. Sitting poolside in South Africa this time of year is IDEAL, the sun is out, the breeze is flowing but for some reason you just SOAK up those rays and don't feel a thing until you've gone inside and rinsed off unveiling stage 3 melanoma. CLEARLY based on my education in skin care I lathered SPF 50 on my face, SPF 150 on my arm tattoo, and figured, ehh what the hell, i will let my legs and one arm get a little tan. BAD IDEA.... NOTE TO SELF AND OTHERS.

Beth, Drew and I were all quietly sitting discussing life, business, the random AIDS commercials on TV here, and what not, when all of the sudden we saw what looked like  if Chiquita Banana, robbed Cher, and ran off into the sunset with David Bowie.... Clearly I jumped out of my seat, grabbed Drew's professional camera, my cell cam, and DARTED for the grassy noel where they were "Posing"
Please what I had the honor of witnessing. (keep in mind, they were surrounded by photographers, and what appeared to be happy family members.)

After looking like paparazzo, it was explained to me these "kids" were preparing for their MATRIC FAREWELL. "A good-bye to 12th grade) and apparently any dignity or style they may have had or ever will have.

The mother of this lovely young dancing with the South African stars contestant  lady, had actually been SO KIND. She was explaining that it was like what we call a senior prom in America "but with much fancier more sophisticated attire" Mum, then invited me along! She said I could actually GO WITH HER to the prom and that she would drive me both to and from so I could also experience it. (clearly she miss-took my AWE at their costumes  fancy attire for something else. But lets be honest. She was so sweet. And also lets be honest, from the looks of that dress, "Miss Thing" will be pregnant by the time the night is over.

I went back to my suite at the hotel to freshen up for dinner, and anyone who knows my is aware I do not shave my entire face with a straight razor. I buzz my checks and neck and then clean up my neck with a blade. Well note to self: plugging American machines into African holes makes them EXPLODE. I was almost responsible for the forest fire of Nairobi.... I burnt the shit out of my hand and was forced to BIC my face.

I know its not the end of the world, but when they only serve one measured out shot at a time per drink here and you have to order TRIPLES, its not easy to drink the pain away...

Beth & Drew decided we were going to the "Fancy" steak house for dinner.  When we arrived we were greeted by THE MOST lovely little South African native. Pretty white girl *(the only white south African we'd met on the trip) with a sweet and charming accent. She told us we should all have the CHEESY GARLIC BREAD and the FISH PLATTER to start, "ohhh ohhh and you mustn't forget to try the dried buffalo tongue" she emphasized.
"You know what I said" "We do exactly what you recommend but we will pass on the buffalo. Is it an actual tongue?" Our waitress looked at me as if I had said something appalling and replied, "But OF COURSE IT IS, COVERED IN OUR SECRET SOUTH AFRICAN BLEND OF SEASONING"
I said "Yeah, NO, I mean definitely, no thank you as delicious as it sounds we don't eat red meat"
"Oh and Beth and I will have the Chicken Parmesan to share, and Drew will have the Fillet, medium rare", I exclaimed... Yes we know, its meat, but lets not read into it.
When the seafood plate came it had an array of prawns, langoustines, calamari, and this large bug thing they called a lobster, and my FAVORITE fish, which I had never seen or tasted, the KING KLIP.  It was DELICIOUS. I didn't like the lobster however. it looked like some kind of bug, and being that they are called the cockroach of the sea, all I could envision was JUST THAT. A big red ROACH.

Where were the delicious red CLAWS and the meaty tail? I'm sorry LOBSTER FAIL! Please stop referring to that creature as a LOBSTER. I bet you that's what happens to a sea monkey when they reach puberty. Hmmmmm... Makes you wonder!

I would also like to say that the "Chicken Parmesan" was DELICIOUS. However, it was not Parmesan. It was much like a breaded and fried chicken breast with a SIDE bowl of honey mustard, or maybe that chica chica sauce. But there was nothing Parmesan-ie about it....  

After our 3rd bottle of wine, a delicious blanc I might add, we decided to order (or I ordered for the table) a nice after dinner cordial. After explaining Baileys on the rocks, she explained she only had Amerula

   IT WAS DELICIOUS! A creamy rich almost plum taste. I was a huge fan *(duty free here I come)

By that time we were pretty "tipsy" and really began having a heart to heart with our waitress about life in South Africa, Johannesburg specifically. She had tears in her eyes most of the conversation while explaining every night when she is driving home to her parents house, she had to pray they weren't murdered or kidnapped.  Apparently it is not uncommon for such terrorizing behavior by the locals, and that theft and murder is more common than not. Last week her best friend was kidnapped after her entire family was tied up and robbed then beaten for no reason. This is her every day reality. This sad girl had no idea there were even places in this world where this was SO UNHEARD OF, and much more of a shocking headline news story rather than an expectation. It made me sad to think all of these people live in fear.

I got my friends drunk enough to go to the casino so we stopped at the cash machine where I withdrew $500.00 ren. Thinking I was going to be a baller that night and WIN BIG we walked into the "Players Club"  and since we were with Beth they let us right in!

I started at a $200 minimum bet roulette table, and straight away lost $200ren. I was so upset, finally, went to black jack and quadrupled our chips...

Before we could part ways, our drunkie sweet tooth took us to the on site 24hr "Candy Store" where we all got ice cream... I SWEAR A GAY MAN RUNS THIS PLACE! check this out....

If you don't get the joke, ask Ben Andrews...

When I went back to my hotel room I logged on to my bank account to see what this conversion rate had done to my financial situation?! How much money did I loose? How much did I spend?! ARE YOU READY FOR THE GRAND TOTAL! 

$68.00. THAT'S RIGHT. SIXTY-EIGHT AMERICAN DOLLARS! Turned into an African FORTUNE....

Today we are going to the town's market, in JoBerg for some shopping. I am sure I will have tons to report back on! 

Sala hantle - That is  SeSotho for goodbye!

Who's Kim Kardashian?

The posee of lip ring'ed folk had begun to gather at the front of the line which lead me to believe being pierced on your face was not a South African tradition. This made me feel much better about everything already.

My xanax had worn off about 1.5 hours prior to landing and I had pee'd out all 4 bottles of wine, so I was about as sober as Courtney Love on her "detox day." For some reason every time I have to identify myself at a customs, (and I know my friend Kristy Adams can relate) I begin to sweat like a Lohan w/o her caffine. For some reason I have the conscience of O.J. Simpson and I shake as though I am smuggling black tar heroine in my anal cavity. (lord knows I wasn't, that would have interfered with my chemical warfare tactics on the plane ride over). I have never had a reason to worry, my passport is legit, and I am only going on vacation. However, the series of questions I'm asked at the border makes me stumble my words and I am always worried they are going to throw me in a room for questioning and treat me like a criminal. I was given the "go ahead" and I ran for my luggage like I had just avoided arrest.

I knew I was in a foreign country when I saw the suitcases coming through the turn style wrapped up like this...

I am not quite sure why people do this. I MEAN, you aren't even supposed to lock your luggage, how is THIS aloud?

Finally I had found my driver, he was holding a sign that said JANSEON KAPLIN. I assumed that was me and I asked if he was going to the Emerald Casino/ Resort. He shook my hand and said oh yes, sir please come with me. I asked if he had any documentation to ensure he wasnt a creeper getting ready to take me to a factory when I would be forced into labor carving wooden elephants later to be sold to tourists at the town center. He said, "Sir I am an official driver, look I am wearing orange and black." Oh  yes, of course, I must have been crazy.... So I followed him to his vehicle. I am sorry I do not have a picture of this Mercedes mini-van but I was a bit too scared to remove my blackberry from my bag. I was told to seem as poor as possible in order to not get robbed.

Once in the van with Joohlatsooh *(that was his name) we began talking about South Africa, and I was asking him more questions than Oprah did in her interview with the polygamists in Utah. He asked me to sit in the front seat with him so I felt sort of obligated to speak/ GRILL him and get any information possible. The scenery on the way to my resort was somewhat typical but with extra grass and birds. I was DYING to see tigers, zebra's , and monkeys! But this was all that I saw:

Next I began to enquire about "pop culture" in SA, and what kind of drugs people used. I was told that everything American was copied as far as TV went, and that there was ONE break out star who sang R&B, but for the most part they listened to our music. I asked him who was more famous here, Paris Hilton or Kim Kardashian. "WHO?" He replied. "Who is this Kim Kardashian?" "Paris Hilton is not very famous anymore, but my girlfriend loves Fantasia Barrino." WHAT?! YOU DONT KNOW KIM BUT YOU KNOW FANTASIA BARRINO? I love this country. 

I arrived at my hotel. It is pretty! 

But once inside I found some signs that I think Ellen Degeneres could have a ball with! First of all, Im not sure why the floors in the corridor would get slippery but apparently Mr. Magoo learned his lesson:

and I am not sure if there is a big gay community in South Africa but if there is I am pretty sure they all eat at this restaurant in my resort! 

I am also wondering if this vending machine is a play on words for women's feminine napkins or something... I wasn't sure but don't have my period so I didn't need to find out.

My flight to South Africa, THE JOURNEY BEGINS.

I arrived at JFK airport a good hour before my trip. I am a firm believer that 2 or more hours is a waste of time, and lets be honest, any good traveler knows the proper way to skip lines, finagle your way to the front of security if necessary, board first, and drug up once seated.

With a new NARS lipgloss, fresh DIOR mascara, & MAC blush in hand, praying there would be a woman checking me in and taking my bag, and there was, I negotiated an upgrade (for barter) on my seat. Lets be honest, what girl doest love make up? It works every time.

The moment I got to gate 27 I was excited to look around at my fellow travelers, its also important for me to mentally prepare what kind of people are going to be sitting around me on the plane. I noticed a lot of what looked like back-packers, a few nicely dressed business-y looking folk, and about 3 families. There were no disabled people so I decided to use one of my travel tips taught to my by my Aunt Debbie growing up. I approached the desk and explained my hip surgery last month and it would be helpful if I could pre-board to avoid standing behind all of those pesky families with small children on the “loading tube.” SCORE....

Needless to say God punished me because after getting settled into my seat and taking my first 2 xanax to ensure proper intoxication levels upon take off, a family with 3 kids sat in the row behind me. How does a father of three afford business class on a trip to South Africa with his ENTIRE FAMILY? 

After my xanax kicked in I decided to lean back for a nap while watching SEX IN THE CITY 2 (not so good by the way) while suddenly the 6 year old began to kick my seat and scream like a maniac. Come on now, dont tell me at 6 this behavior is appropriate. This went on for a good 20 minutes. I HAD TO THINK OF SOMETHING TO TORTURE THEM BACK. The only way I figured I could punish these people was to try my very hardest to pass gas. Believe me when I tell you, and I know this sounds gross, but the behavior of these children deserved chemical warfare. Now, keep in mind the feeling, and don't lie, you know its happened to you, upon passing gas in a group of people you almost need to start laughing your ass off. No pun intended. Its almost like puking and crying, it goes hand and hand. So, I was able to pass enough stinky gas for the woman to scold her disobedient child, while the other laughed in hysteria, basically admitting to the gas problem without actually saying “IT WAS ME MOM, IT WAS ME!” 

FInally the parents stepped up to the plate and began occupying their beasts... Now dont get me wrong, I love most children, well only if they are on the spectrum that is, but I dont want to travel with any of them. May this be a tip for parents, if you can sedate your dogs for travel, you can sedate your child.  We all know that 25 milligrams of benadryl has never killed ANYBODY. 

I am currently flying over Liberia  with a destination local time of 2:01am, its 8:02pm in NYC so I am on my 3rd half bottle of wine and 4th xanax, hence the full admission of my intentional gas passing. The movie selection is pretty lame so I figured I would share my thoughts, feelings and travel tips in this entry. Stay tuned for some more when I land, I wont babble as my sedatives kick in.

CIAO FOR NOW..... See you in the jungle!

Getting ready for my trip...

So, its been no secret that I am off to Johannesburg, South Africa on Wednesday morning. One of my dear friends, Matt Bell decided to leave NYC and moved to Arequipa, Peru but not with out starting one of my favorite blogs on the world wide web. After reading Where The Eagles Have Been. I became inspired to write my own blog.... If all goes well, this blog will continue well after my trip to South Africa and I will take you on the journey of what I call a life... So here I go!

To get myself in the mind set of leaving my homeland to depart on a journey across the world, I spent part of my weekend where anyone leaving NYC, would go. QUEENS NY. I figured by going through a 21 hour flight on South African Airlines all by myself, I would need to put myself through a mid level of torture that could only partially compare, A BUS IN QUEENS.

After packing some home made goat cheese/ mushroom bread, spinach dip, fresh picnic sandwiches and 2 large flasks, we all met up at 23rd and 6th Avenue to begin our "journey" on the F train uptown.  8 assholes from NYC come bombing out of the subway looking for the bus only to find there is a civilized line of people all waiting to go about their day. Little do they know, there is about to be a huge kink in their plan to commute calmly on a lovely Saturday afternoon.

My friends and I decided to go to a pumpkin farm / corn MAZE, to kick off the fall season. Arriving at the farm all you saw was Families with small children. Everything was about to change. Here we were, running up to the nearest picnic table to spread out our food and vodka drinks all while getting attacked by bees....

After noticing what might have been the cutest family on the farm, my friends and I decided to take on the Corn Maze... Sounds easy right? I mean it must be if its for families of small children.
BOY WERE WE WRONG.
Whoever designed this thing certainly didnt take into account there would be drunk city folk running around.

I of course was the "leader of the pack" holding our group flag, which at some point got lost in the brush...
After being asked to leave the MAZE by the farm staff, my friends and I decided to go and have a pumpkin painting contest. My pumpkin was of course, the best....

What do you think???

If you dont believe me, ask the people sitting on the Q17 bus. I initiated an "America's Next Top Pumpkin" walk off, and strutted my stuff (by stuff i mean pumpkin) down the entire bus, asking everyone to vote.

It is now Monday night, just 2 days before my trip and I have begun my Malaria vaccine. I chose to do my typhoid shots 2 weeks earlier to avoid all of the side effects happening at once. Lets just say this was smart. If you are ever going to travel, and need the Hep, Typhoid, Malaria Vaccine cocktail, I advise spreading it out.
I dont know how I am going to physically contain myself for the entire flight however given just how UNEASY my belly is from these pills. This is rough.

My next dilemma is packing. What does one wear in South Africa? I guess I will have a full report for you upon my arrival.
Stay tuned for pictures, comments and of course judgement on fellow travelers....