Two Words:

Tim.
Tams.

Only the most delicious chocolatey gift bestowed upon an undeserving mankind by a benevolent god.
I was shopping for healthy snack foods but a few hours ago, when I stumbled upon this heavenly dessert in the cookie aisle ("But, Jordyn, why were you in the cookie aisle if you were looking for healthy snacks?" HEY... Don't be a smart ass). Anyway, I was so overcome by shock and delight that I just couldn't hold back, and I turned to the complete stranger next to me, waving the tray of Tim Tams around like a raving maniac, yelling "They don't sell these in America!" He just said... "Oh." Yep. SO, I brought the tray of Tim Tams home to my roommates and taught them how to eat them the proper way (there is, after all, only one way to eat a Tim Tam). They enjoyed it, I think.

I'm presently reclining in my living room with all of my roommates, Sander, Sebastian, Ann-Krisitin, Eva, Frank, and Rens (none of them know I'm writing a blog entry right now, let alone a blog entry about them). We're listening to some Dutch rap and just hanging out, a pretty chill night for the Scott Street house. By the way, if you're wondering what Dutch rap sounds like, it's kind of like weird hebrew, but with phrases like "bitch" and "mother fucker" occasionally thrown in. Entertaining. Should I mention again that I love my roommates? I love my roommates.

Speaking of entertaining, I had a pretty interesting encounter today after work. I was walking to my train, and I saw a big van/cab, and I thought to myself, "Hey, if I push my boobs out enough, maybe I can get a ride to my train station as these guys are leaving." So I walked up to the window and asked the driver if he was passing the Lyndoch train station, and if he would be able to give me a ride on his way out of the cheetah facility. Then I leaned a little farther inside and saw that some kids who had visited the cheetahs earlier were sitting inside, so I waved and said "Hey guys! How did you like your cheetah encounter?!" They ended up giving me a lift home. After the driver dropped off the kids (about 19 years old) at the Radisson in Cape Town, he turned to me and said, "You know who that was, right?" I raised an eyebrow (I can only raise my right eyebrow), and said, "Okay, who was it?" Apparently I had just driven home with the daughter of the producer of the South African versions of Who Wants to be a Millionaire and The Apprentice and her rich friends. As most of America would say, MLIA.

So, that's today's update. I should get to bed soon since I have another early morning tomorrow. Like I do every day. Ugh.

Jordyn