I awoke at 4:45 am in Johannesburg, South Africa, in my bra and underwear and looked over at my lesbian friend Shelly, who was fully clothed in a pair of pyjamas. Adult pyjamas in general are hard to take seriously; they're even harder to respect when they're worn by a forty-five-year-old woman and the pyjamas have pick-up trucks silk-screened all over them. There were six of us being picked up at 9:15 to be flown into the 'bush,' which happened to be the first leg of our safari. The six included my cousin Molly, age twenty-six. She is the younger, white version of Tyler Perry's Madea. Large and in charge. Molly loved animals and wanted to become a zoologist before her parents convinced her to aim lower and work on a reality show. Her birth name is Ulrike because we hail from Nazis, but in an effort to live a peaceful life alongside our Jewish brethren, she chose her middle name-Molly-to use personally and semi-professionally. Accompanying us was my newly divorced sister Simone (I
