Hello from South Africa. Am I an “Expat” Now?
First, THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! to all my wonderful guest bloggers. I’ve learned a lot from creating three weeks of guest posts, including do’s and don’ts for future guest blogs. I’ll talk more about that later.
Second, yes…I flushed the toilet as soon as we got to our room just to watch it drain the opposite direction.
Okay, now on with the post…
It’s about 11pm here in Pretoria, and we’re pretty exhausted from the flight over (and the pre-flight, Marla-panic-induced stress for a few days prior to leaving). Our adapters don’t work, despite the fact that they said they work in Africa. We can’t remember which of our 7 checked and 4 carry-on luggage items have the toiletry and clothing items we’re looking for, and we’re both too exhausted to do anything but say “we’ll figure it out in the morning.”
Kevin Nealon was on our plane. As we stood in line at the gate in Atlanta, he walked up to where we were standing and asked if they had begun boarding yet. I said something in my usual dorky gawking stare that amounted to, “No, but awesome people get to go to the front of the line” and indicated he could pass me up. He just looked at me like I’m a dork (apparently that’s a pretty easy thing to figure out) and went back to join his gorgeous wife and young son.
He sat in our row on the airplane and I tried very hard to seem like I had no interest in the fact that he was there, making sure to keep my comments about awesomeness to myself. Of course that didn’t keep me from texting a few family and friends and gushing. Is it weird that my last texts on my American phone were about Kevin Nealon and SNL? (Yes, I apparently have missed the last decade of his work according to my friends who watch Weeds.) But isn’t there something to be said for remembering his awesomeness from the good ol’ days of SNL? Darn it. I should have told him I’m an old school “awesomeness” stalker. Yeah. That would’ve made a difference in the interaction.
Geez. Well, at least Kurt says it isn’t nearly as bad as my Rutger Hauer encounters. Okay, so yes I said encounterS, plural. But not because I was stalking. You can’t live in Marina del Rey and not run into jog-pants-wearing, Humvee-driving Hauer from time to time. (Degree of awkwardness optional.)
Anyway, here we are in the RSA.
I have no idea what this life is going to be like here. At dinner tonight one of Kurt’s coworkers talked about the “wives club” and how the neighborhood we’ll be living in is “Wisteria Lane” and I have a sneaking suspicion none of the wives will be getting into a shark cage with me. But I’ve never been big on group bonding, so I think I’ll just taking spouse activity in small doses and visiting one-on-one, hopefully with the spouse I had dinner with tonight.
And not all groupings are the end of the world, even for us non-domesticated types. I heard they have a book club, in which they are currently reading State of Wonder, and you might recall from an earlier blog that Ann Patchett is one of my favorite authors, who has been influential on my own writing ethic, so that’s at least one bonding experience I might enjoy.
Okay, friends. I’m running on laptop battery power since my adapter doesn’t work (or probably more likely I don’t know how to work it yet). Can’t add any photos right now since I can’t find all the right attachments, cords and chargers. “We’ll figure it out in the morning…” ‘
Good night, friends.