2013 is going to be the sh-t. I don’t know that for sure, but I’m trying to do what life coaches tell you to and speak my will into existence.

It’s started off well-enough, anyway. On that rooftop in Johannesburg, we get wind of a house party allegedly close by. Johannesburg is like LA in the since that “close” actually means a 30 minute drive.

We—me, Stephie, and Thuli, park in front of a gated home somewhere around 1:30 AM. The house is dark and there’s no music or sound at all. We fear we’ve missed the party on the long ride over. Weird, because Johannesburg, like New York, parties into the wee hours.