You ask me where I've been. I've been everywhere.

Wubba lubba dub dub!

I just spent three weeks in Africa.

Me and my camera bag at Bourke's Luck Potholes in South Africa

This is not a proper blog post about my trip to Africa, because if I were to write that, it would be novel-length and have a slideshow with detailed captions. I could write about Africa like an Anthony Bourdain narration, or I could go full-on Eat Pray Love up in this bish because I was doing plenty of contemplation when I was standing 10,000 feet above Cape Town on Table Mountain or staring off into the distance while hoping to see a zebra. 

At my last non-temp full-time job *lol sob* I used to make "By the numbers" boxes to illustrate news stories, and I thought of the numbers a lot when I was traveling: 10 hours of driving to New York because of traffic. 15.5 hours on a nonstop flight to Cape Town. Four countries. Fourteen passport stamps. One accidentally accepted marriage proposal from a Zulu warrior who said he'd send my father 11 cows. Countless hours on tour buses and countless calories at buffets and 14-course small-plate dinners. Two pounds gained back from the 14 I've lost since April — not too shabby. 30 other people in my tour group who I amazingly got on smashingly with, proving that I'm somewhat charming and not a total misanthrope despite my last year of hermithood. 500 mb of daily WiFi access at most of the hotels I stayed at, which got quickly used up by sending a couple of pics to my bestie on Snapchat and scanning Twitter to make sure the U.S. was still intact*.

I stood atop mountains and cowered three feet away from angry mama elephants. I (reluctantly) sampled ostrich samosas and banged the drums to request entrance into a Zulu village. I saw freaking Van Gogh's freaking Starry Night during my one day in New York before the trip, and I started crying because I'm a human being and I internalized that one Doctor Who episode.

There's so much I want to say about my trip, which is something I never in a million years expected to be able to experience. I will say it's surreal and destabilizing to not sleep in the same bed for more than three nights, and to realize when homesickness strikes that even "home" is a temporary concept because I'm currently packing up my apartment and planning a big move.

I loved everything about being in Africa. I just wish someone would invent teleportation, because getting there and back sucks and a week and a half later, I'm honestly still jet-lagged.

Blog updates: I'm planning to do a two-part review of Alisha Rai's Hate to Want You. The only book I finished on my trip was Dahlia Adler's Out on Good Behavior, and I'm currently reading Beverly Jenkins' Forbidden before diving into my ARC of Rai's Wrong to Need You, which I am preemptively freaking out about because of how much I loved Hate to Want You. So, all that is coming eventually, because mama has to pack and question all her life choices and procrastinate by watching Fenty beauty reviews on YouTube. I like that Trophy Wife highlighter more every time I see it. 

See you when I see you.