I hate it.
This year was different. I wore sandals and dirty clothes that may have smelled a little as my "clean" (clean being a relative term) clothes dried on a line strung between tents. In place of glitzy cocktails in the early part of the evening, I drank wine from a tin cup, served impeccably by a Frenchman who clearly took great pride in serving wine. I had 9 dates, 8 of whom had morphed from strangers into friends over the course of the past 10 days. We expressed awe over the lion, the rhino, and the parade of elephants we'd seen earlier that day. In place of Dick Clark (no, Ryan Seacrest now, right?), we watched the waterhole. First a mother and child rhinoceros, then three skittish giraffes who took turns carefully maneuvering into a drinking position (rather like a girl trying not to splash her clothes in the wilderness - too much information?). The giraffes left shortly before midnight, and we headed back to our campsite, toasting each other along the way.
How will I top this next year?
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