A Vacation Vacation

Whew.  I need a vacation from my vacation.  Like I'm talking a week on a tropical beach somewhere, with not a bus, plane, or underground train in sight.  Apparently my travel stamina wasn't quite up to scratch, because after 2 hardcore weeks of sight-seeing with Emilia, I was sleep-deprived, cold-ridden, and had developed a terrible allergy to tours.

Which leads me to the realization...I'VE GONE SOFT!  Gone are the college days where I would be up in the dark for a 7 am work meeting, go to 2 hours of class, then 6 hours of work, then 2 more hours of class, and then face another 2 hours of lab meetings, and finally make it back home at 8, just in time for 3 hours of frantic catch-up studying.  And that was a pretty normal day.  What happened to that Sarah??  I guess 5 months of unwinding (minus the waitressing part) in the South African sunshine addled my brains and turned me into a relaxation junkie without me even knowing it.  And I'm not really sure if this is a good or a bad thing.  Maybe good?  I'm sure my stress levels are immeasurably lower, and my average daily list count is down to about 0.5 (I mean, with the "stickie note" application on my laptop this is the lowest it's ever going to go).  But on the other hand, I will be joining the grad school rat race in less than 4 months, and I can't go getting colds every time I stay up past 11 pm.

That reminds me- I should probably mention that in Dublin two weeks ago, after much antagonized deliberation, I finally decided which graduate school that I'm going to be attending this fall.  I am going to be a Tar Heel at UNC Chapel Hill!  I'll be starting my first year of the three-year MPH/RD program (public health and dietetics), so will be embarking on a new adventure in a new town, at a new school, pretty much in a new state as well.  I will forever be a UCLA athletics fan (except maybe for basketball) so there's no question of loyalty, there's no need to even go there.  But I am looking forward to continuing my studies, now that I've had a break and will be able to look at a lecture slide again without instant nausea.

But enough of my musings, you're probably wondering what "hardcore" sightseeing is, and what could I have possibly been doing that left me allergic to tours.  Here, I will show you!  In 5 days, this is what we got up to:

Went on a day trip to Stonehenge and Bath:

Stonehenge

Bath, a city that 3 hours does no justice to 

The Roman Baths- so old!  

Did a tour of St. Paul's Cathedral: 

The outside of the cathedral, which really is no comparison to the breathtaking inside.  Which I would show you, except that no photos allowed on the inside unfortunately.  Interestingly enough functions as a church, landmark, and burial grounds.  Lots of famous people are buried in the crypt, including Winston Churchill.

Went on a boat trip up the Thames to Greenwich:

Emilia and I at the Greenwich clock, which is right next to the Meridian Line.  This was right before a downpour that left us with mushy socks for the rest of the day.  We also went to the National Maritime Museum (yes Dad, I voluntarily went to a maritime museum). 

Went to the Royal Albert Hall to see a classical concert with John and David:

We saw a collection of performances: piano, orchestra, clarinet, trumpet, and a soprano as well.  They were all amazing!  And I perfected the art of interval nose blowing during applause only.

Spent a day walking around the Portobello Market in Notting Hill:

Me in front of the bookshop that's in the movie "Notting Hill"

Like I said, whew!  But wouldn't trade it for anything, we had an amazing time.  This week I've been taking my version of a mini vacation vacation, and spending my time cooking, relaxing, and watching Glee reruns on TV.  Pretty much just regaining my sight-seeing stamina and getting over my aversion to tours, because next Wednesday my college roommate Jessi and I are starting our 2 week Eastern European adventure to Prague, Budapest, Vienna, Salzburg, and Munich!  I'm really looking forward to it.  Buses, planes, and trains, here we come!    

Rolling Green Hills and Leprechauns

I have friends!  After being mostly friendless for the past 6 months, it's so nice to see Emilia and Dante, two Modestans who have come out to London for 2 weeks to see the sights with me.  They arrived on Easter Sunday, and ever since then it's been a whirlwind of traveling.  And eating.  With maybe a little bit of drinking in between, just a little.  But when in Rome, you know how it goes....

Our first day got off to an unpromising start when Emilia and I spent 2 hours waiting at the Victoria tube station, where we were supposed to meet Dante at 10 am.  Turns out he was also there, but somehow we miraculously missed each other that whole time?  Who knows.  Anyway, we visited the British Museum, which pretty much covered the history of the whole world (or so it seemed), and saw the Rosetta Stone and a few other odds n ends.   I was kept busy trying to keep those 2 awake and pumped full of caffeine, because they were exhausted from a red-eye flight, and it seemed like the probability of them lapsing into sleep-walking increased exponentially as the day wore on.

Emilia and I at Pret, the British version of Starbucks, on caffeine stop #1

Tuesday started at 3:30 am, when Emilia and I woke up to take 2 buses to the Stanstead Airport, 40 miles outside London, to catch our flight to Dublin.  At first, Ireland seemed just like England, but after spending even 2 hours there I noticed a difference right away.  The Irish are so friendly, and proud, yet self-depreciating at the same time- a very charming combination!  They are quick to tell you what they love about their country, but just as quick to crack a joke about the "bloody fools" running their government, and the potential doom of their economy.  There are literally 5 pubs per block, I'm really not exaggerating, and I think it's safe to say that the Irish do love their alcohol.  But they also love their music, and nearly every pub or bar we went into over the course of our visit had some type of live music going on.  My favorite part of Dublin was the CRUNCHIE MCFLURRIES at McDonalds.  I ate an embarrassing number of McFlurries over the course of the 3 days we were in Ireland.  I'm not going to disclose the number.  Just imagine if your favorite childhood candy bar was available in McFlurry form for a limited time in a foreign country...what would you do?  Yup, I thought so.       

My blissful discovery of this marvel

Needless to say, I was very dismayed when we got back to London and they also have that variety here in London.  How did I never notice that before??!  I'm going to need to reign in my new addiction though, if I have any hope of fitting into my clothes by the time I leave England.

The next day we spent traveling around Dublin, taking a free hostel tour of the city, with a hilarious free-swearing tour guide who brought even the oldest and driest history come alive.

According to our guide, the most "unique" architecture you'll ever see in your life.  

Our third day we took a day bus trip into Wicklow, Glendalough, and Kilkenny, which is about 2 hours outside Dublin in the neighboring countryside.  Probably my favorite part of our trip, it was soo beautiful and green and medieval.  Makes America seem like a newborn baby compared to Ireland!  

An old monastery in Glendalough

Glendalough- the valley of the 2 lakes

Emilia and I outside the Kilkenny Castle

Our tour guide was a buck-toothed Irish man who kept making "baahhh" sounds every time we drove past a sheep (which was a lot), but at least we learned more a lot about the places we visited, and Irish history, than we would have otherwise!  

That night we went on a pub crawl with our hostel, with a group of other young travellers who turned out to be primarily American as well.  We tried a sampling of 5 Irish pubs and bars, which was actually really nice because our guide took us to a good variety of places where we could get a feel for the Dublin nightlife scene.  That's all the description I'm going to go into regarding this event, although I will say that none of us were hung over, and we still woke up on time the next morning, so we didn't get into tooo much mischief relatively speaking....I will say that we were all disappointed when we checked our wallets the next day though!  Oh well, at least we did our bit for the Irish economy.

After visiting the Guinness brewery on Friday morning, we flew back to London on Friday evening, with Emilia and I finally arriving back in Chiswick at 10:30 pm after taking 4 buses and a plane from Dublin (I'm telling you, we're bus experts now).  We slept like the dead that night, and like champs carried on running on the traveller's treadmill when we woke up bright and early the next morning to take a Oscar Wilde walking tour of London.  We still haven't caught up on our sleep from all of the traveling, walking, eating, and drinking that we've done in the last week, but as they say, we can sleep when we're dead!  

Tomorrow morning we are waking up early again to take a bus to Stonehenge and Bath for the day, so there will be more to follow....

     

     

Part 2: Loondun

Even though I've left the Motherland, my journey still isn't over-  

I arrived at Heathrow early Tuesday morning, after a red-eye flight from Joburg.  There was only 1 hitch in my journey, I lost my printed itinerary of my flights that I had packed to show the immigration officials once I arrived in the UK.  Well, I didn't exactly lose it.  I threw it away.  What happened was that I was browsing the shops at the Joburg airport, and thought that I should take advantage of these 2 extra hours from my delayed flight, and moisturize.  Airplanes are ALWAYS dehydrating, right?  So I tried a sample hand cream, which turned out to be hand soap.  Oops.  Then I had a handful of soap in my hand, and so secretly wiped it off on the nearest scrap of paper in my backpack.  That's right, my itinerary.  And then I threw it away, not even realizing.  I know, not the smartest thing I've ever done.  But the beauty of it was that it didn't even register that I had thrown away my itinerary until I was about to board the plane, at which time I rushed back into the bathroom and tried to dig through the trash, unsuccessfully of course.  

So when I got to immigration, the guy was questioning me about what I was planning to do in the UK, etc etc, and he asked for my return itinerary.  "Uuumm I accidentally threw it away" was my response.  I got a long look after that one, and I don't blame him, if I were him I would have been suspicious of me also.  And this particular guy was taking his job pretty seriously, he really did remind me of Ann Robinson, the host of "Weakest Link".  He had that whole slow drawl + poker face going on.  So then, desperately grabbing at straws, I told him I could tell him my confirmation number for the flight, RHPTXS.  He looks up, "You memorized it, DID you?"  I didn't know memorizing things was a crime, but apparently it made me look even more sketchy.  Anyway, after he asked me about 10 more questions, like what my uncle does, what I studied, where I studied, if we have any plans, etc, and then finally he was satisfied and let me through.  So despite my stupidity, I eventually made it through, and met David, my uncle John's partner, on the other side.    

I'm going to be in London for 2 months, staying with my uncle in a borough (aka suburb) of London called Chiswick.  It's pronounced "Chisick", apparently there's such thing as a silent W here in the UK.  And people say Americans don't speak real English!  Chiswick is a very cute little town, with a nice High Street (aka Main Street) with lots of little shops and restaurants.  Both Gordon Ramsey AND Jamie Oliver have restaurants here, which in my book says a lot about a place.  The neighborhoods here look a lot like a mix between Harry Potter and Georgetown, this is John's street:

The cherry trees are all blooming and snowing petals, so it really is a sight to behold.  

Right outside the closest Chiswick tube station 

On Thursday I took the tube into central London, and went to Buckingham Palace to see the changing of the guards ceremony, which at this time of year happens every second day at 11 AM.  It was chaos, with hundreds of tourists elbowing each other for a prized view of the gate.  

There were tourists from all over, but especially other European countries.  There was even an intense Italian in front of me who hand-rolled a cigarette while we were waiting for the ceremony to start.  Those Europeans.  Once it finally started it was pretty cool, the guards lined up in formation, and then a marching band came up through the gate, and then the old guards were replaced with the new.  Or at least that's what I'm guessing, because I really couldn't see much.  I got sick of the smoking Italian and so left about 10 minutes in, but then ended up running into the new group of guards on my way out:

   

I then continued on through St. James Park, and Hyde Park, which are astoundingly huge, and covered with blooming flowers.  The cherry trees remind me of spring in Ripon, with blankets of almond blossoms.    

Springtime snow

After I spent a few hours walking around the parks, I may or may not have gone to Oxford Street, the notoriously commercial part of London.  But if it makes my dad feel any better, I spent most of my time in Primark, which is about the same price point as a Walmart.  Primark was even more chaotic than Buckingham palace though, and absolutely filled with Russians.  The only explanation I could think of for that was there must have been a tour bus-full of them dropped off together.  Either that, or Eastern Europeans really like Primark.

On Friday I took the tube into Richmond, a nearby "borough", about 3 tube stops from Chiswick.  I had a cup of coffee at Starbucks (oh, familiarity) and walked along the Thames for a while.  I even earned 5 pounds, probably the only money I'll actually earn the whole trip, because I participated in a market research survey about household cleaning products.  Not that I know a whole lot about British cleaning brands, but hey, it was 5 pounds!  These people that worked for a research group were trying to get volunteers on the street, and since I'm a sucker for not ignoring people, I listened to what they had to say.  After "promising" it would only be 15 minutes, I agreed, and so went into the office to do the study.  It ended up being pretty interesting, they tracked my eye movements when looking at a grocery store shelf, asked my opinion about packaging, and did a survey on which products I buy.  Which was kind of stressful, since I haven't actually ever bought British cleaning products, and didn't recognize any of the brands except for Dettol!  But anyway, 30 minutes later I emerged 5 pounds richer.  Although random, I see it as another interesting experience to put down in the books!  

          

Wedding Bells

Not mine, don't worry!

My cousin Caron got married this past Saturday, March 25, and it was the perfect ending to my more than memorable 5 months in South Africa.  Legendary 5 months.  I'm talking "should-go-down-in-the-record-books" status here.  And it meant so much to spend my last night in Cape Town celebrating Caron's marriage with (nearly) my whole family, I'm so happy that my dad and I were there to be a part of everything.

Saturday was the culmination of about 9 months of hard work on the part of my aunt Beth and Caron, and everything turned out beautifully.  It was such a family wedding, everyone had a part.  Beth's sister Catherine baked the wedding cake,

my uncle John and aunt Lindsay did the flower arrangements,

Beth sewed the wedding dress AND the 2 bridesmaids' dresses,

                                    My cousins: James, Caron, and Ally (one of the bridesmaids)

AND all the decorations were hand-made by a variety of people.  I helped with bits and pieces, like sewing the lavender heart sachets for the guests' gifts, writing out table placements, cooking, helping decorate the wedding cake,

and helping to set up on the morning of the wedding.  Kind of like a manic jack of all trades, I suppose.  Things did get a little crazy when we had 40 family members over for a braai the night before the wedding, but it was all worth it!

Even my little cousins Tom and Fletcher had a job:

Best of all, I loved spending time with my uncles at the wedding (all 5 brothers reunited), I was surprised at how well the Lowes cleaned up.  My dad even wore a tie, and I swear it wasn't because I made him!  I didn't even know what he was wearing until I met up with him at the wedding.

    Look at that!  A tie.  So proud.

                                   My uncle Paul, father of the bride, and his Saartjie (that's me)

               Simon, me, and John.  That's 4/5!  Sadly I didn't get the chance for a photo with Patrick.

But it was a great night, and it made my millions of goodbyes the next day the hardest of my life.  I'm going to miss all of my family so much, they feel like parents and siblings rather than aunts, uncles, and cousins.  I've never been surrounded by so much family for such an extended time in my life, and now I understand why people tend to gravitate towards their hometown, where their families are.  It's like a catch 22: the more you time you spend with far-away family the more you connect with them; but the more you connect with them, the harder it is to exist far away.  I'm willing to handle the sadness, though, because I wouldn't trade the relationships we've created for anything.  To say that I want to go back to South Africa again as soon as possible is a massive understatement, and I really hope it happens in the next few years!

On top of missing my family, I'm also really going to miss South Africa, the country.  Yes, I will dream about rusks, homemade muesli, biltong, fish braai's, and fresh papaya, because I'm always thinking about my stomach.  But even more so I'm going to miss the indescribably beautiful landscapes, and the laid-back, yet proud, people.  Look at these sights that I've seen, and tell me it's not the most beautiful place you can imagine:

        

 I'm going to miss it.

  

Out 'n About

Hello again!  I'm sorry it's been so long since my last post (I know everybody's probably been on tenterhooks, checking the website religiously, right?), but it's definitely due more to a combination of being busy and lazy than a lack of news, that's for sure.  I spent the last 3 weeks in Durban, and had a really good balance of seeing the touristy sights, and spending quality time with family.  Even though every time I visit the land of the Zulu it seems to rain nearly non-stop, I still ended up keeping really busy, now that I think back on it.  Of course, in addition to my ritual grocery shopping, cooking, and TLC-watching, that is.  I've unfortunately discovered the plethora of American shows on the South African DSTV networks, and am disturbingly caught-up on rubbish like what caused the gradual breakup of Kim Kardashian's marriage, and the latest cruise-themed episode of What Not to Wear.  But I partially blame that on living in a household where everyone else is in bed by 8:30 PM.  Anyway, I got a little off-topic there.  I probably shouldn't be broadcasting my trashy TV tastes anyway.  Here's what I've been up to!

1.  Went away for a luxurious girls-only weekend

A few weekends ago, Sally Ann and I went away to Clarens, a small town in the Eastern Free State, for a long weekend.  Which involved gorgeous views, lots of quaint window-shopping, and plenty of coffee and cocktail-drinking.  And a 10K.  Random, right?  There just happened to be a marathon there on the Saturday, by the intimidating name of the "Surrender Hill Marathon", and so I figured, hey, I'm here anyway, I might as well run the 10K.  It actually wasn't too bad, and the views were beautiful, minus the 2K or so we spent running through the local township.  And I have to say I nearly did surrender to the last and most brutal hill, when I passed a restaurant that was practically blasting the aroma of bacon and eggs down the street, but thankfully managed to hold onto the contents of my stomach.  They really should outlaw the cooking of greasy breakfasts alongside race routes, or at least mandate a closed-door policy or something.  But anyway, it was a lovely weekend and so nice to get out of the city for a while!

the view along the drive

Us, on the balcony of our B&B, after the run.  Looking extremely happy...

2.  Went up the Moses Mabhida World Cup soccer stadium to survey the land (and sea).  It really is a pity they rarely use the soccer stadium any more, except for tourists and bungee-jumpers.  

the view from the top

3.  Sewed like a maniac.  I won't bore you with a photo of my amateur sewing, but I probably spent a combined 25 hours in about 3 days glued to my grandma's sewing machine.  I knew my focus stamina that I developed over 4 years of midterms and finals would come in handy sometime!  I even went to my grandma's weekly sewing lesson with her, because I needed advice on how to alter the dress I bought to wear to my cousin's wedding.  The sewing class not only provided me with valuable sewing input, but was also a fascinating experience, thanks to my grandma's sewing buddies.  I didn't even mind listening to Molly Ann spend 10 minutes telling me how I should rather go to medical school, because of the entertainment factor of the rest of her conversations. 

4.  Spent 5 days at Hluhluwe Umfolozi, spotting animals and navigating potholes.  It was just my grandpa and I, but despite only having 2 pairs of eyes in the car we managed to see quite a lot of game during our time there.  

   Mrs. Elephant taking a bath.  She was the only one we saw, which was 

fine with me, since I'm terrified of elephants.  

2 male lions, having a very dignified and stuck-up nap under a tree.  A very lucky sighting!

The funniest thing- 2 teenage giraffes kept trying to knock the other one 

off-balance by shoving each other with their hips.  This must have gone on for 

hours, because when we drove past again a while later, they were still at it.

Other than driving around in the car, I spent my afternoons reading Nelson Mandela's autobiography and doing crossword puzzles, which was good, because I'm sure both activities were FAR better for my brain than watching "I'm Obsessed with my Pet" or something similar on TV.  (Although the pet show was really fascinating, one lady threw 1 of her 11 cats a birthday party with balloons and the cat version of marijuana.)  But I really do recommend "A Long Walk to Freedom" to anybody that hasn't read it, it's very interesting and inspirational.  It must have really made an impression on me because after I finished the book, I had a dream that I was running some weird type of marathon up in the sky with Mandela.  

On two of the evenings, my grandpa and I even had mini braai's, to cook some lamb chops for ourselves, to carry on the family tradition of game reserve braaing.  In my opinion, food always tastes better when you're in the bush.  

And that brings me to Cape Town!  I arrived here on Saturday, as did my Dad.  It's been so nice to see him, but it almost feels surreal because it's like a collision of my two worlds.  Kind of like when you see a coworker at the grocery store, or something like that.  But I think I'll have to write a separate blog about his visit, because I probably already have enough material for at least 2 posts after only 3 days.  When the Lowe brothers are around, there's always pleeenty of material to get inspiration from, let me tell you.

Adios :)  

   

  

 

Marg the Patriot?

Last night, we had a family conversation-turned-debate about the faults of America.  Since I'm the only American around, I always dread these conversations, mostly because I'm incredibly outnumbered and no matter what I say, inevitably the conversation ends with somebody imitating an American accent to prove a point, everybody laughing, and me giving up.  This particular conversation left me wondering...am I secretly a patriotic American, without even knowing it?

As any of you Americans who have traveled abroad can probably attest, the US has a less than perfect image to the rest of the world.  I've come across plenty of people who have the idea that Americans are loud, obnoxious, self-centered, obese, poorly-mannered, oh, and don't forget stupid.  The unflattering list goes on and on!  One time someone told me that I didn't seem like a typical American, which was intended as a compliment.  I will say that the flocks of khaki-wearing tourists around South Africa with projectile voices don't exactly work in our favor, but not ALL tourists can possibly fit the stereotypes that foreigners have of us.  And when it comes to arguing back, I don't know if anyone of you have tried to change the mind of foreigners that are skeptical of America, but I'm telling you, it's next to impossible!  It doesn't matter what you say, you get virtually nowhere.  It's kind of like trying to convince a republican from Texas to turn into a democrat AND start eating tofu.  I still love South Africa regardless of the corruption, or what the crime rate is.  Shouldn't other people give America a fair chance, regardless of our flaws, as well? 

But anyway, when it's all said and done, I think I actually have a lot more affection for America than I ever realized before, thanks to these very debates (uh, conversations) that I so hate to come across.  Before, I never considered myself very patriotic, and maybe was even overly-critical of America.  But now, when somebody takes a jab at Americans, or makes an unflattering generalization, I'm always surprised at how much it bothers me.  And unless the offender is someone that I shouldn't argue with (aka keeping quiet is for the best), I always add my two cents to the conversation in an effort to maintain at least a little bit of dignity.  I definitely think that my patriotism levels have increased since leaving the states, tipping the scales a bit more towards the American side, than the South African side.  Or maybe it was always there, just buried deep, deep, deep down!       
On a lighter note, here are some photos of what I've been up to lately:


Going up Table Mountain at sunset:

   My aunt Beth, cousin Alison, and I, looking rather angelic

Last weekend went to my family's vacation house in Still Bay with everyone: 

My uncle Paul and I, in the kitchen, while I was making my Valentine-themed appetizers

Beth and I in our Valentine's pink

Went out on the town in Cape Town:

This is the most interesting burger I've had in a while: an ostrich burger 

with caramelized onions, blue cheese, avocado, and biltong dust,

"guido style" (a lettuce wrap rather than the bun hahaha).  Delicious!

Today is my last day in Kommetjie, tomorrow I'm off to Durban for 3 weeks to see the fam bam over there.  Sad to leave, but luckily, it's not a real goodbye!  I'll be back at the end of March for my cousin's wedding. 

Oh, and one last thing, I have to tell you about a hilariously inappropriate encounter I had with an old man (yes, another one...what can I say?)  Not for my own sake, because it's pretty embarrassing, but because I know that it'll probably make my friends' days when they read this (ahem..Alex) and I'm just selfless like that.  Two days ago my aunt and I were walking out of Boulders, a beach that people go to see wild penguins, and we came across my grandma's old neighbor and another elderly couple that was staying with her.  Just for a bit of background, I stayed with this particular neighbor for a few days on my last visit, because my grandma's place was full to the brim.  Here's the general gist of the conversation:

Old neighbor: "Ooh hello!  These are my friends that are here from Scotland until Friday.  Sarah stayed with me last time when she was out visiting her gran.  Actually, she stayed in your room!" (to the old man)

Old Scottish man: (to me) "You slept in my bed!"  Weird grin.

Me: halfhearted "ha.ha".  Errr...not.

(conversation went on for a bit)

Old neighbor: "Well, we'd best be going, but Sarah, know that you always have a bed at my house!"

Old Scottish man's wife: "Well, that is, after Friday." 

Old Scottish man: "Speak for yourself!!!" Another grin. 

Ooooh...cringe....It's funny that during my time here, the oldies are turning out to be way more of a threat than the young'uns!  But anyway, I'll leave you with that awkward, inappropriate feeling as you go about your day.

Until next time!  

         

    

The New Old Sarah

Sooo...I've been thinking.  For y'all that I haven't seen in like forever, you're probably wondering if I'm the same person that I was when I left home back in October.  You know, since I've been encountering shongalolos and sketchy police stations, running 10ks, speaking Afrikaans, and driving on the wrong side of the road.  All things that I would have obviously avoided doing in America.

The answer is, I don't know!  It's hard for me to tell, since I'm still myself to myself, if you know what I mean.  But I have noticed a few small differences in my tastes and ideas, which are either a result of my more mature age (I'm 22 + 5 months, instead of 22 + 1 month) or my travels thus far.  Let's see if the new Marg or the old Marg wins out...

NEW
I now drink coffee.  Ironic, right?  Finally in the Motherland where drinking copious amounts of tea is socially acceptable, and I suddenly starting liking coffee for the first time in my life.

I don't have a sock, shorts, or sleeve tan, and it's the middle of summer.  Woo hoo!  First time EVER.  I'm not exaggerating.

I bake rusks 50x more often than chocolate chip cookies.

I'm more up to date with the ANC's latest drama than what's happening on Keeping Up With the Kardashians.  (The ANC is SA's current ruling political party)

I never know what the date is.

I think about my future once every few days rather than 50 times a day, and stopped paying attention to my grad school applications about 2 months ago.  If Johns Hopkins posted that everyone was getting a BMW and a free education, I probably wouldn't have noticed.

My reading material mostly consists of James Patterson/John Grisham-type books.

I kill mosquitos with my bare hands.  Practice makes perfect!

My hair has gotten so long it keeps getting caught under my arm when I turn around.  If that makes sense.

My wardrobe consists of 10 outfits.  None of which include wearing khaki shorts, a polo, and running shoes together.  Which is definitely for the better.

My idea of a late night is 11 pm.

The air is so moist here by the ocean, I've given up with keeping my hair in line and last week decided to take the dreadlocks route.

I write a blog about myself.  My life was never interesting enough before.


OLD
I still go to the grocery store almost every day.  I can't help it.  Grocery stores, no matter what country I'm in, have some sort of magnetic pull that I unconsciously can't resist.

I'm as incapable of running in South Africa as I was in America.  My calves don't prefer the Motherland, apparently.

Country music remains unchallenged as my favorite, and I still remember all the words to my Dixie Chicks songs.

I still check uclabruins.com and latimes.com almost every day to stay up to date on the latest athletics news.  Go Bruins!

I still don't like mushrooms, olives, or raw tomatoes.

I'm still incapable of making decisions.  Traveling around by myself and living a semi-adult life has done nothing to change that unfortunately.  Should make the next few months veeery interesting.

I'm still terrified of sharks.  Swimming in what is probably close proximity to them has done nothing to dampen this exaggerated fear.  Every time I'm diving under a wave, the image of a shark biting my head off flashes briefly through my head.

I still spend about 30% of my time in the kitchen: either cooking, loitering, or eating.


So that's all I got.  I mean, there obviously many other things that are still the same, like my shoe size, favorite color, and sausage fingers, for example.  But I'm omitting that stuff for brevity's sake.  Let's see, I suppose it's about even, but maybe I thought of a few more new things than old.  That's good though, that's the goal of a trip like this, right?  But anyway, I'd say it's safe to say that you'd recognize me when you next saw me.  I haven't completely morphed into one of those perpetual travelers who after being away for a long time ends up with a permanently pensive, all-knowing gaze, wear only earth-toned clothing, and are able to fit all of their clothes and souvenirs in 1 bag.  That last one will definitely not be me, that's for sure.  But this is an analysis coming from myself, which is probably not the most accurate method of going about things.  I guess you'll just have to wait a few more months to see!

I was kidding about the dreadlocks by the way.  That is one thing that would NEVER happen in a billion million years, and if you thought I was serious...then I dunno.  We probably need to chat more.

Till next time!
Totsiens