More importantly, I picked up my tickets. They're pretty. And I have so many that I can chain them all together and decorate my house. Yes, I'm rubbing it in. Tomorrow night I'll be watching France and Uruguay and probably wondering how the hell I got so lucky, but for now I'm a bit in awe of how everything's come together, and how everyone who was poo-pooing the national team and the country's ability to get its shit together in time (including me) is now rushing out to snatch up South African flags and mirror cozies for their cars. Hell, I can't help it, the excitement here is contagious. I've even gone out and bought me a vuvuzela, despite the fact that every time I've ever turned on a local game I've immediately muted it and cursed their unmistakable drone.
So, I've got my tickets, and tomorrow I'll be bringin' my horn on the bus, and I'll finally get to set foot inside Green Point Stadium to watch the World Cup. And while I don't have much in common with Algerians, I'll most likely be rooting for them when I watch them play England, and I'm sure everyone will come to learn that it's a lot more fun to blow a vuvuzela than to complain about how noisy it is. I for one will be making a helluva racket and loving every damn minute of it.
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