If you’re reading this after December 14th, I’ll be on holiday alone in Chad, a landlocked country that sits between Libya, Niger, Nigeria, Cameroon, Central African Republic, and Sudan (the phrase, “With friends like these, who needs enemies?” springs to mind).
I once went to second base with a stranger on a plane. He was my seatmate on the red-eye from Los Angeles to New York. We never spoke or exchanged names. We never even said hello.
Over the years I’ve developed rituals to help me tolerate fear and sleep easier when away from home. Some are fairly straightforward, commonsense practices. Others, depending on how remote and/or creepy the destination, are a tad more “proactive” — some may say paranoid.
Thanksgiving day traditions come in all shapes and sizes….Wendy’s just happen to involve quesadillas, beer, and the Florida Keys.
“If it’s not in my neighborhood of Cobble Hill, I’m not going. If it’s not in my apartment, I barely want to go. But, if you need someone to fly halfway across the world for a birthday dinner on Saturday night, I’m your girl.” Wendy is a homebody who travels the world.