Going Home... Again
Peeps, hear my cry!
Me this morning, with my perfect hair and perfect skin. And perfect clothes with goddamn matching shoes. (That was a line from a movie that no one but me and one other person in the world saw. Two points if you guess which one.)
Okay, that may have been a little dramatic, but I just wanted to make sure you were paying attention. Not that I'm going to make some kind of monumental statement or anything. Really I've got nothing to say, except...
I'm on my way home!
(Insert shrill whistling and bugle calls here.)
At least in theory I'll be on my way home. I'm publishing the blog early, because I'll be traveling Monday and all of Tuesday. With some luck, I'll actually be let out of Joburg to hurtle my way through space back to San Francisco. It's been sketchy here—anything can still happen.
Will I ever come back? Hell no. Maybe to South Africa—there are things to see—but never to Joburg. That's not to say there weren't great things about my visit here.
- The hotel staff rocked. I'm not sure I'll be able to cook for myself when I return home, or make my own bed. On top of it all, they made me feel at home.
- Something about the air must have agreed with me, because my skin and hair looked awesome. I'm talking the kind of shiny and luminous that could grace a Cosmo cover.
- I finished the book I was working on. If you're under deadline, I highly recommend being confined in an enclosed compound without any distractions.
- I got to fly on a plane with unlimited free booze and movies. Twice. (Hopefully.)
So what's next, Kate?
A career as a cagedancer for a rock band. And perhaps another book or two. Stay posted.