The Mother City, quite literally

So. Cape Town. Where I will be headed in approximately three weeks, to visit Quite Possibly The Cutest Nieces In The World. And stay with my sister and her lovely, musician husband, where I will be made to work (as in, babysit a six-month-old and possibly an exceedingly energetic four-year-old, oh my lord, help!) instead of sitting back, relaxing, with copious numbers of cocktails being poured down my throat. Oh, sigh. The curse that is family. How on earth will I cope?

In other news, yay! Not. Since this is when I will 'fess to my parents that I am getting divorced. Of course, due to blabbering of aforementioned darling little sister and Mommy being able to add two and two quite correctly, she already knows. But I have not confirmed. I am thus likely to be forced to explain quite why I didn't just tell her already, as well as reiterate that I am not protecting him, thank you very much, I am protecting me! From the gossips. And oh yes, I know, there are plenty of gossips out there quite willing to rip me to shreds.

Oh, hell.

But I will have a damn fine time, because there will be much eating of sushi, and drinking of wine, and seeing of friends. The few I have left in Cape Town, because I left all that cliquey shit behind 14 years ago and my real friends are up here in JHB, where I give thanks for (most of) them every day. And the one of his, who hated me for a while, and then became one of my favourite people in the world, ever. Damn, I miss her.

Time to prepare for the fun and games.