Full Of Hot Air

5:51am- Willingly crawl into Picnic Basket of Death otherwise known as hot air balloon. As we lift off, basket scrapes across ground as I'm sure it's done a million times before ensuring a now bone-thin bottom. Not 100 feet up, wicker gives way plunging me to ground.

6:02am- Terrified beyond reason as we soar over Namib desert watching sunrise, am convinced I will shit pants in presence of 7 other people,– only one of which is in love with me and possibly willing to overlook transgression. Before I am able to give bowels permission to humiliate, am overcome by butane fumes. Thank god.

6:04am- View is stunning and rational mind knows 80 year old ladies get off on this kind of thing, but really should have taken anxiety meds first. Straight-up heart attack.

6:43am- Thankfully back on terra firma enjoying champagne breakfast with comely pilot. To add razzle to experience, pilot opens champagne bottle with machete spraying me with alcohol-saturated shrapnel.

9:37am- Flip car over side of cliff while driving over mountain pass.

9:42am- Cramps CD comes shooting out of player at top speed. Weirdest thing I've ever seen, and also last as it severs head from neck.

11:34am- Hallucinate about lions feeding my entrails to boyfriend on silver platter during 5 hour monotonously gorgeous drive to seaside resort town of Swakopmund. Discover too late that I am not hallucinating.

7:34pm- Order Swakopmund River Asparagus, a regional specialty, as an appetizer. For dinner, my main meal comes accompanied by regular old asparagus from who knows where and certainly not a riverbed. Vegetables clash in my stomach until I am finally speared by single river stalk. Bleed out.

9:15pm- Swakopmund is strange, quirky town. Namibia having once been colony of Germany, it is spotless, manicured, and sadly, still segregated. Jumped outside of Fagan's bar by white guys for interacting with "wrong crowd."

Other than that, pretty good day.