I Have a Patron Saint!

I passed a church today called St. Martini’s and I almost passed out from the wave of reverence that came over me. Surely the presence of the Lord is in that place, y’all. I can hear the rush of angels’ wings, I see glory on each face…I was overcome. I have a patron saint! My PresbyBaptist self can still embrace liturgical traditions! On his feast day, do you wear little black dresses at swanky bars or lounge around the house in silk dressing-gowns drinking martinis from one’s own sterling silver cocktail shaker? (I’m a shaken-not-stirred kind of gal.) Then I found out it was just St. Martin’s in Afrikaans and my religious aspirations wisped away like so much gossamer. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.

Also, I am acutely feeling the sadness of missing Michael Jackson's funeral. I tried to stream CNN but there wasn't enough bandwidth. Or as Runako said, "Lots of little South African students couldn't do their homework on Wikipedia because you were using up all the bandwidth trying to watch Michael Jackson. I hope you're happy." Which I absolutely WOULD HAVE BEEN if it had actually *worked*.

And now I am trying to pull an all-nighter, or at least a late-nighter, to finish a draft of a project due Friday. But how am I possibly to do that in a land without Starbucks? And no coffee maker in my room? This is going to be a subpar product, South African friends--that's right, I know you're reading--just prepare yourself for it now.

Hey Kim, Farid Esack remembers you. Which suggests to me you did not maintain our hallowed undergraduate tradition of sleeping/not paying attention in class. I'm gravely disappointed.