What in the hell do I pack for Kenya?
Hanging out with a giraffe in Nairobi — last year.
The question of this week, as I leave for Kenya on Thursday: What in the hell to pack?
Fun fact: The dreaded tsetse fly’s favorite color (the color of luuuurve, apparently) is blue. So there go jeans. OR do I wear jeans and spray the hell out of them with Deet and risk having three-headed babies — even though I am not dating and nowhere near having a baby, much less a three-headed one… You see? The problems we unemployed have!
I also wonder: What to wear to a restaurant called Carnivore? It’s like the TGI Fridays/Edible Epcot Center of Nairobi, but instead of serving cheese sticks and chicken wings, they serve shit like: Zebra, Gnu, Wildebeest, Wart hog and Hippo. Basically, if you want to see it, they will serve it to you so you can also eat it… the full African experience, if you will. No pun intended. Apparently, Wart hog, being of the pig family, is very good. Hippo is supposed to be insanely fatty and semi-disgusting. All I know is I’m going the second night I’m there so it better not make me sick for the rest of the trip. Speaking of which, I better go to Duane Reade and stock up on some Pepto Bismol. So, do I go safari chic and pretend I killed my meal myself? Do I slurp down ostrich soup under a pith helmet?
Meanwhile, Karl is in full fury due to the rain pouring down. I literally had to beg him to poop today. Do you know how embarrassing that is? There I was, standing out in the rain on Sullivan street pleading with my dog to take a crap. He finally did, but not after humiliating me (and yes, I did have to beg. Otherwise, he’d do what he usually does — save it up in his tiny long belly for the one second I look away and then calmly poop by the toilet and run. At least he likes to do his business in the bathroom — just like mommy! (But I hate it when he goes inside).
Karl also hasn’t been informed he’s not coming with me to Kenya. So I got that conversation to look forward to. Fun times.
And until I leave I’m on a no booze diet. My little sister was in town last week and whoa did that lady do some damage! Kept me out til 3AM every night. And then I ran into ol’ Gigi (from Sundance). The universe is conspiring to give me sclerosis of the liver. So no more til I hit Nairobi (cuz you KNOW I can’t take Hippo meat with out a bracing shot of whiskey — it also kills the germs!) …Until then, I am going to steadfastly ignore the news in this country about how uneducated angry backwater (yet very good looking!) idiots are taking over the Republican party and perhaps Congress. Seriously. I am an optimist but these people are trying my last nerve.