Rent

is once again due.

Yes, four months have come and gone since the last time I sat down with my landlady and handed over rent for the next four months. I signed a rent agreement for one year, and that was one year ago. I’ll have to do that once again. My fear is that the landlady will want to increase my rent. Anyway, I’ve been a great tenant—the best one she has—so I don’t think it will be difficult to persuade her to keep things as they are (stick to the status quo). Nonetheless, I’m still apprehensive that our next meeting might get a little sticky. I’ll let you know.


I’ve been in a real Rent mood lately. I mean, I’ve been listening to the Rent soundtrack a lot lately, and I’ve had a strong desire to watch the film. Unfortunately, I lent my copy to a friend of mine about a month ago, so I didn’t have it handy. Well, I got it back today, and I’m fresh from watching the movie for the umpteenth time. I watched it like five times the first weekend it came out on DVD last year, and I cannot tell you how many times since then. Rent means many different things to many different people. To be fair, some people despise it. The play is in its 12th year on Broadway. I remember first learning about the show in the spring of 1997 when I was at university. One of my housemates went to New York over spring break, saw the show, bought the soundtrack, and that is all we listened to for weeks after he got back. I saw it for the first time in January 1998 with my friends Travis and Jeff in Orlando at the Bob Car theater. To date, think I’ve seen it on stage four or five times. When I finally saw it on Broadway in 2001, I was beside a woman who was watching the show for the 77th time.

If you know me—or simply read my blog every now and again—you know that friendship is something I really value; I put a lot of effort into my relationships with others. Friendship is one of the major themes of Rent, and that is one of its many appeals to me. A line in one of the songs is, ‘Friendship is thicker than blood.’ One of my friends at university, Keri, used to say something like that all the time. She’s always said that when you were so far from home, your friends truly became your family. That’s true, but it is also true that sometimes, your friends become closer and more important to you than your family even when your family is not so far away. We all need unconditional love from someone, and we do not always find that love and acceptance from our families. Who do you turn to when your family rejects you or turns its back? Those friends.

The no day but today theme of Rent really influenced my life during my 20’s, and I’m still trying to hold on to that idea. Just being who I am compounded with the way I was raised makes me an overly-cautious, neurotic person. I’ve really worked hard to ‘let go’ of so much and enjoy each day, and it has made me a happier person. I’ve not reached the point where I can ‘live each moment as my last’. However, that’s what I aspire to.

Forget regret or life is yours to miss.

Give in to love or live in fear.

These are just some of the messages from Rent that inspire and motivate me. Some days I need more inspiration and motivation than others.


Rent, even though it is a work of fiction, rejuvenates my optimism for finding love in this crazy, crazy world. Hopefully I won’t have to go broke, get strung out on heroin, have AIDS or be beaten on the streets to find it. Strip...maybe.

Productivity

I woke up this morning (Sunday. It’s possible I won’t have internet access today, so this might get posted on Monday) after a restless night not feeling quite as much as a train wreck victim as I did yesterday. I’ve been very lucky this past year to have suffered from a record small number of migraines. For a while, I’d get one every Thursday that would last through Saturday. It was quite exhausting, and I had a difficult time being productive during that time. A year and a half ago, I had the record five-day migraine that had me up vomiting at night. This past year, the headaches have been few, not as intense or long-lasting. But occasionally, I’m still cursed with one. Yesterday’s lack of wellness triggered one, and I was awoken no less than five times last night by painful throbs behind my right eye (the side always affected). Some dull pain is still present, but I think the worst is over.

I really want a productive day. It’s been so long since I’ve really had one of those. I’m feeling like a big, lazy blob! However, I feel motivated, something I’ve not felt in a while. What can stand in my way? Apparently, the telephone networks. I’ve been trying to contact people who could aid me on my quest for productivity, but my efforts are proving futile; messages are not getting through and phone calls are being dropped. Boo!

One thing I’d like to accomplish today is acquire a table to set up a workspace at home. I’ve got the chair. I’ve got the printer. I’ve been given a table, but it’s locked in a friend’s garage. My friend just got back from travels to DRC and Rwanda, so I thought I’d just bop over to her place and get the table. Well…I don’t want to go over without calling first. I’m polite that way.

So I just got a message from a friend I’m supposed to meet for coffee this morning. He wants to postpone until four this afternoon. I’m assuming he’s hung-over from last night. Hey, I cannot hold that against anyone. Take as much time as you need, buddy. That just frees up my morning a little more to do something worthwhile like go grocery shopping for the week, wash dishes, make my bed, etc… I don’t need to call first before doing any of these things.

Get movin’!

I felt awful today. I did not get out of bed today until 6:00pm. I couldn't believe it. I won't go into the details of my symptoms, but they were not pretty. I'm feeling much better now. Thanks for asking.

I cannot find the charger for my phone. I thought I left it at a friend's house, but I'm there now, and I cannot find it. There is one more place I can think of to check before I give up and have to buy a new one. A spare one around would not be a bad idea. My phone's battery has been dead for two days now, and none of my friends use Samsung, bit I have not been able to borrow a charger.

Pollyanna moment: The good side of this is the money I'm saving on airtime this weekend.

For some reason, lately I've been going through an insane amount of airtime. I think I've at least quadrupled the amount of airtime I go through each week in the last month. I can't believe how frequently I run out.

One last thing, remember Salt N Pepa? I just want to sum something up right here using lyrics from their 1992 hit, Do You Really Want Me?

I know what you're saying. It's cool, but Yo!
I gotta know what,s up. Know what I'm saying?
Cuz sometimes when we're alone kissin' and huggin' and things,
I feel like, Yo is this it? Is it really gonna happen?
YES!
And then
POW!
BANG!
BOOM!
NOTHINGGGG!
Why you teasing me?

Never

Again!

(Who am I foolin'?)

Lucky!

But am I a star? In my daydreams I am..sometimes.


I don’t want to get all philosophical on your ass, but I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching lately and reassessing my values, trying to figure out what is truly important to me and making sure I’m doing what I think I should, heading in the right direction.

One day I think I am.

The next day I’m not so sure.

Honestly, right now I feel like many of my talents are going to waste and that frustrates me. I feel like I’m being wasteful.



It’s funny how, one minute, everything can seem to be going wrong, and the next, everything is just swell.

It’s funny how just a little bit of positive attention can change a bad week into a good one, or a good week into an even better one.

It’s funny how a little bit of courage can go a long way. Just send that invitation. It might be accepted. It might not…but it was!

It’s funny how plans don’t always work out, but that’s ok because it’s usually better that way.

It’s funny how seriously I take minor things and let them stress me out when in the end they don’t really matter. It’s even funnier that I recognize this and still let the little things stress me out.

Possibilities…

Is it possible to go out with semi-attractive people and not be sleeping with them? I like to think it is. Come on, I know the sex factor weighs in heavily, but it does not always dominate. (Or am I weird?) I was out tonight with an old friend. We went to a movie then out for a drink. I ran into an acquaintance at the pub, and when I wished him (the acquaintance) a good night, he gave me that suggestive eye (you know the one I’m talkin’ about) and assured me that I’d have a great night. In the words of Clueless’s Cher, “As if!” As a matter of fact, I took a boda, alone, to Bugolobi, bought samosas and mandazi from a vendor and went home to make herbal tea, type this blog post, read a little in The Kite Runner (Yes, my reading hiatus due to Valhalla Rising is over) and go to bed...alone. It’s not impossible.

Other possibilities…

I was walking home form Katch the Sun yesterday, up Bandali Rise, and I noticed a new signpost by the road.


It was for a new tour company set up by my friend, Amy. How exciting for her! She’s worked with tourism—specifically tourism in Uganda—for many years in various capacities, and she took the leap and went out on her own. It cannot be easy starting up one’s own business. What a great move for her with tremendous possibilities! Starting my own business would be one of my worst nightmares; I can’t imagine anything scarier. Amy is super hard-working and knows her stuff. If you are planning a safari in Uganda and need to book a tour, call Amy at Safari Solutions.

Fireworks

I’ve been told that the fireworks at the ARA (American Recreation Association?) at the Fourth of July are the best to be seen in Kampala. Well, I’ve been there and left very unimpressed. Now the fireworks at Blu*3’s album launch last Saturday in Lugogo were spectacular. Someone invested a lot of money into that dazzling display. My friend, Tara, and I were mesmerized by the lights and sparks. Blue fireworks are my favorite, and there were plenty of those.

On the subject of investing a lot of money, Blu*3’s stage: Wow! When they first came out, sure, they came up through a trapdoor in the floor, but they were performing in front of a black backdrop and on plastic blue chairs. I was almost disappointed, but then they came back from their first costume change with a vengeance. It was very Charlie’s Angels-esque, their reemergence to perform the title track to their new album, Burrn, three sexy silhouettes on top of a set of stairs accentuated by a backdrop of flames.

It has been reported that the quality of sound was poor during their show. Well, there were some problems. One of their mics appeared to no be working properly. However, I think it is a testament to the girls’ skills as performers that they just went on with the performance as if nothing was out of the ordinary. First, Lillian walked off stage to get a replacement mic. When that didn’t resolve the matter, they would pass on one of the good mics to whomever was singing lead at that time. Of course, they could’ve been catty and been like, “Your mic isn’t working? Sorry for you, bitch.”

Blu*3’s show surpassed all my expectations. I’ve seen them perform before and loved them. They have good stage presence, and their choreography is always amazing. You can tell that they put much effort and practice into their performances. I am so glad that they performed with a live band last Saturday. When I go to a live show, I expect to hear something different that what is on an album. An artist doesn’t want to alter songs so radically that they will not be recognizable to their fans; however, a live performance should have elements of spontaneity and improvisation. Performing with a live band allows for this. Plus, a live band just sounds better than a backing track. The girls’ costumes were fantastic. I spent the first part of the show admiring Cindy Sanyu’s tiny waist and nice hips…lovely. My friend, Tara, commented more than once that the girls’ had a great wardrobe. Now, I read it reported that their costume changes took too long. I’m going to chalk such a comment up to the writer’s inexperience with large shows that include wardrobe changes. I’ve been to many shows in my days and seen several of the great pop acts: Britney, Janet, ‘NSync. Costume changes take time. There was always something going on during Blu*3’s costume changes to keep the audience excited. Come on, Montel performed during one of them.

The girls looked and sounded great. Guess what, they can sing live. Despite the mic problems they were having, they put on a great show. I loved the alterations they made to the Strong Woman song to introduce themselves better. I was really impressed with Cindy’s performance. I think she actually sounds better singing live than recorded. Lillian has been blessed with an amazing, strong voice. Her singing appeared effortless and she belted out her notes with ease. Jackie has one of those all-around great voices which allows her to be versatile and sound amazing now matter what she is singing.

I agree with some who say they performed Burrn too early in the show. They should’ve saved it until the end since it is their title track and one of their hottest hits at the moment. I think that it was great that they didn’t have too many opening acts. I was quite surprised when it was announced that they were taking the stage…and then they did. They got it right. The purpose of opening acts is to get the audience warmed up and excited for the headlining artists, not wear them out and make them tired. I also went to an album launch at Theater La Bonita last Friday night. What a train wreck! I was ready to leave before the main act came on. Opening act overkill! Too many opening acts frustrate an audience, especially if the opening acts are truly awful and they make it seem like you are attending a high school talent show.

I love to watch live performances, especially when they are as full of energy and well-orchestrated as last Saturday’s Blu*3 concert. I’ve walked out of other shows in the past out of frustration. I believe that Blu*3 has set a new standard that will challenge other top names in Ugandan music. But that is how things improve. Someone pushes the bar a little higher.

If you are not in Uganda and are thinking, "Man, I really wish I could listen to Blu*3's music." Never fear. They have a website where you can purchase their music for download. I've not tried it out, but I'd be curious to know it it works. If it does, then that's great for them. The website also claims that they have concert dates scheduled in North America and Europe, so check 'em out if you can.




On a different music-related topic, two songs just passed the 100 play count on my iTunes:

• Not Ready to Make Nice by the Dixie Chicks 102

• (You Drive Me) Crazy (Jazzy Jim's Hip-Hop Mix) by Britney Spears 101

These are the first two songs to pass the 100 play-count mark. I guess that makes them my two favorite songs.

WTFKTS?



That's all I've got to say about that.

Friday…

In case anyone forgets that this day rolls around every week, seven days after the last one, the Monitor always proclaims it on those little signs on the side of the road used to promote stories. Is the news on Fridays really that insignificant or uninteresting? Or do we really need to be reminded that the work-week is ending?

It is not my intention with this post to pick on the Monitor newspaper, but they’ve left themselves wide open for this one...

Challenge of the Week



What’s wrong with this article?

How many factual errors can you find in this very brief report?

*Bonus points if you can pick out the pieces that are not just erroneous but appear to be invented by the writer.

In other running news: Friday is the day of my long run, and today was my longest one yet.



The battery in my GPS thingy died less than half way into my run, so I'm not sure of the distance. I'll have to measure it on another Friday. However, it was a fun run.

Is it Doom?

Today’s post is going to be a short one. Three photos. Three questions.


Why is a headset-sportin' Dwayne Johnson, aka The Rock, on the sign for a beauty salon?


How long does it take someone to search Garden City from top to bottom for New York Kitchen before he discovers that it’s not located in the food court, not located in the main building, but located in a corner of the parking garage?


What was Rosie thinking?

How Will I Ever

Get to Heaven Now?

Rain is coming down and delaying my plans for heading Cineplex to rot my brain with whichever film is showing this afternoon. I actually have no idea what is showing, but I’m tired of sitting at home. After the disaster that was Valhalla Rising, by brain is refusing to allow me to read anything as it detoxes. I’ve watched as many DVDs on my laptop as I can handle for now. I’d bake something, one of my favorite pastimes, but I’m sans oven right now—a problem I hope to resolve in the very near future. (I’ll just get fat. It’s the one vice left when you’re dead meat.) I’ve got to get out and mingle with living, breathing people.

But it’s raining…so I’m back on my sofa, laptop in my, well…lap, feet propped on the coffee table, thinking about how much I like the Dixie Chicks.

It took me awhile to become Chicks fan. I always disliked country music. It was always on the radio at Grandma’s house. Before I knew what being car sick was, I thought the reason for my nausea during road trips was the twang of the steel guitar featured in my cousins’ musical selections as we traversed the hills of northern Alabama. I gained an appreciation for the Chicks’ music after the release of their second album, Fly (not really their second because they had independent releases before Natalie, but their second major-label release). The song Sin Wagon struck a chord with me, and it tore down the long-standing I-hate-country-music barrier I’d built to protect myself from some really bad music. (“Feed Jake. He’s been a good dog…” Are you kidding me? Yuck!)

Anyway, I just got a copy of the DVD, Shut Up and Sing, a documentary about the Dixie Chicks’ career since Natalie Maines, the groups lead singer, said, “Just so you know, we’re ashamed that the President of the United States is from Texas,” during a show in London in 2003. The reaction and backlash in America was tremendous and outrageous. Comments such as: “I believe in freedom of speech. Just don’t do it in public” ensued and the girls’ music was banned from the radio basically everywhere that played country music. How did such a simple comment from a small entertainer in a relatively small venue to a relatively small crowd in London capture so much media attention in the U.S.? Why did such a simple comment from a small entertainer in a relatively small venue to a relatively small crowd in London capture the President of the United States of America’s attention and lead him to make a lame-ass comment about it during a primetime interview with Tom Brokaw when there was (is) a war going on?

Natalie’s response to the lame-ass comment? “You’re a dumb f@$*. You are a dumb f@$*.”

You gotta love her! Unless, that is, Natalie is the reason you were late for prom because you were bumped from your hair appointment because she was a walk-in and your stylist gave her preference. Then you don’t gotta love her. Sorry, C, but can’t we just let the past go?

Why did such a simple comment from a small entertainer in a relatively small venue to a relatively small crowd in London inspire the making of a documentary film? I guess it was the reaction of the American public that inspired the documentary. In the words of Luther Campbell of 2 Live Crew, “The First Amendment gave me freedom of speech. What are you sayin’? It didn’t include me?” Someone said something, playfully, not in favor of the President, and the reaction in America was tremendous and outrageous. Death threats were even made! The reaction to the Chicks’ comment and how the Chicks’ dealt with the reaction makes an interesting story. Plus, it inspired some excellent music.

Excellent music. It was the documentary, Shut Up and Sing, that inspired me purchase my first Dixie Chicks’ album. I bought Taking the Long Way from iTunes two days ago, and I’m loving it. Lubbock or Leave It really gets me moving and makes me think of Nicole and her, “and I did,” comment and giggle a little.


Temptation's strong (Salvation's gone).
I'm on my way to hell's half acre.
How will I ever?
How will I ever get to heaven now?

Oh, well. The rain has stopped. I guess it’s off to Garden City to rot my brain.

p.s.

I watched the Grammy Awards this past February at Copa Cabana in Naalya. The Dixie Chicks’ pretty much swept the awards. Most of the people I was with watching the awards were unfamiliar with the Dixie Chicks and their music and were outraged that they beat Mary J. Blige. I tried to explain the significance of the Chicks winning, but they just didn’t get it.

Quantify?

So I had to get up early this morning and race over to one of the international schools around Kampala. One of my students was going for an admissions interview, and he needed a current school report form. The school where I work has only early years and primary departments, so after Year 6, the children must transfer schools. Our headteacher is out of the country, so the parents requested that I complete the form. It was painless enough until I got to number 7:


How can one quantify another person's academic potential? Especially an 11-year-old. Academic potential... I didn't know how to answer that question; it just didn't seem fair. I could discuss at length how this child performed in the past, what his current strenghts and challenges are and what I think he needs for future success; however, this child's talent and ability are much more complex than a number between one and ten. After consulting with a few trusted individuals, each quite talented in the realm of bullshit, we came up with a number. I still don't feel good about it, but an answer for each question was required. He needs to get into school, so I played their game. Sellout?

If you feel like you need a good smile today, just watch.


Mika - Lollipop lyrics

Thanx, B

I am a Harry Potter fan. I’ve read all the books, the first five twice. I was asked last week if I was a kid because I told a friend that I was going to see the new Harry Potter flick, Order of the Phoenix. Then I asked him if he’d ever read any of the books, and his obvious answer was, “No.” If he’d read any of the books, he’d understand why someone grown could enjoy the Potter series.

At first, I was a reluctant Potter reader. I was at university when Potter mania took over in the States. I resisted picking up one of the books until after The Goblet of Fire came out in the summer of 2000. It’s my friend, Lucy, who led me into temptation. I’d just graduated and was working for the summer at the university before packing up and heading off for Germany. Lucy and several of our friends were very excited about the arrival of the new book in the series. I didn’t get the enthusiasm, so Lucy loaned me a copy of The Sorcerer’s Stone (The Philosopher’s Stone outside of the US). I read it and wasn’t overly impressed, but I then knew what the invisibility cloak was; however, I still didn’t understand why Lucy would sometimes insist that Hillary and I pretended we were under it with her, carrying a dragon’s egg when we had to climb the stairs in the student union.

Things didn’t go as planned in Germany, and I ended up with a lot more time on my hands than expected. I spend a lot of time during August of 2000 in a bookstore in Dresden killing time, browsing the English titles they had in stock. Harry Potter 1-4 were included. I eventually purchased The Chamber of Secrets, and that was the book that ignited my imagination and transformed me into a Potter fan.

Maybe my opening statement was a bit too broad. I’m a fan of the Harry Potter books, but the films have left a different taste in my mouth. I slept through the first film…twice. The second one was not very good: to much of an action film. I hesitated going to see the third one, Prisoner of Azkaban because I’d been disappointed with the film adaptations to that point, and Prisoner is my favorite of all the books. I ended up seeing it with my mother while visiting home in the summer of 2004, and I really liked it. I really, really, really disliked the fourth one, especially the part when Harry begins the underwater task in the lake and makes the out-of-water leap. The unnecessarily long dragon chase bored me.

Order of the Phoenix. What’s the verdict? I really enjoyed it. I think it is the best one so far. I have no complaints to make about it. The franchise has once again redeemed itself in my eyes; they did an excellent job adapting the book to the screen. I really liked how the film spent more time on the story and characters than on eye-candy special effects. Don't get me wrong, Phoenix is also a visual delight. I loved the colors of the film. I didn’t understand why they had all the witches flying so low over the river in London if they were trying to be inconspicuous, but that flight gave aesthetic pleasure. Yes, Harry was very whiny in this film, but he was super-whiny in the book.

In other book news, I finally finished that Cussler piece of crap. It went from bad to worse to absolutely awful. I’ve got to be more careful when picking books. I told a friend that I was reading a horrible Clive Cussler book. He was like, “No. Cussler’s books are good.” Why does he have such a good reputation? Maybe he’s written some gems, but I would find that hard to believe, and I’m not going to research that possibility. Valhalla Rising went on and on. The way it ended was so unnecessary and ridiculous I was pissed that I wasted so much time reading it. If someone can sue for this, can I sue the author and publisher of this book for how aggravated I am about the time I lost and will never get back from reading this stinker?

Sip 'n Snip

Holly's been robbed. That is what I thought when I first saw the sign for Shad'z Hair Pub.


My best friend Holly had two passions: looking good and sipping cocktails. Before she lost her ability to dream, she used to talk about opening a salon where her clients could come in, order a martini, cosmopolitan or margarita and have all of their beauty needs met. Holly mastered the art of tending bar during her stint as starving college student. ("As God Is My Witness, I'll never be hungry again!") She then enrolled in a cosmetology program at a nearby vo-tech. Holly'z cocktail salon was almost a reality, and then the dream died.

The sign for Shad'z resurrected memories of conversations with Holly before marriage, before children, before getting stuck in the muck of the status quo... and accepting it. I was, at first, impressed with the creativity of the concept of a pub/barbar shop in Bugolobi. Upon further inspection, hope of getting a bad hair cut and not even caring because of inebriation was extinguished because Shad'z Hair Pub is a complete misnomer. There is no bar or tavern connected to it. (Wouldn't it be gross if they discovered a way to brew hair trimmings, made a beverage from it and served it at a hair pub? Almost as as gross and ill conceived as Kelly's beer float idea.)



Holly's the idea person. We at one time daydreamed of opening a laundry mat as a money laundering front for a mafia-type organization whose members only wore Armani suits and drove red Cadillac's.


Small town dream!

4 Deep


It would be a shame to let this photo go to waste, stored away in the archives of my iPhoto. It was snapped last month at Katch the Sun in Bugolobi (my home away from home). The occasion was my friend, and sometimes wannabe scandalous lover, Lynne’s birthday. She was in Uganda for a few weeks working on a film. Coincidentally, our friend and former colleague, Meera, was also in Uganda doing research for her degree. Lynne, Meera and I met as Peace Corps Volunteers in Uganda a few years back. Since leaving Uganda in mid-2005, each of us has eventually made our way back for one reason or another. I came back first, and I suspect it was my gravitational force that pulled them back. Or maybe it was Conche. Conche was our APCD (Associate Peace Corps Director, a.k.a. our direct supervisor) for the better part of our service. Among other things, she dropped off care packages of cheese, apples and chocolate to the ends of the earth and always answered her phone by asking, “Are you OK?”

Books, Boobs and Candy

The problem with reading good, well-written books is that it makes it extremely frustrating to read books that are bad and poorly written. I’m about a hundred and forty pages deep into one of the worst books I’ve read in a very long time. I wish I could be more like my friend Cristy who can put a bad book down after only 10 pages. I’m a glutton for punishment and force myself through any book I begin—no matter the cost. All because a book is deemed a classic does not mean that it is good. It took me three attempts to get through the tragedy of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (my least favourite book ever). Why are kids in America always forced to read that Nathaniel Hawthorne bore: The Scarlet Letter?

The train wreck I am on this week is Valhalla Rising by Clive Cussler. The book’s cover credits him as being the “Grandmaster of Adventure.” Cussler came highly recommended by my friend, Nicole, who also recommended two amazing books, The Egypt Game and From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. These two books, while written for young readers, have become two of my favourites and have prized positions on my bookshelf. Maybe I just picked a Cussler bomb. Everyone is entitled to a bad day. Right? I’m working hard to finish this book by Friday. Anyone who wants it after that can have it free of charge. Gotta get the stink out of my house.

Granted, I’m only 140 pages into the book. There are still 400 pages remaining for the author to redeem himself. I deserve a good story after all of the good ol’ boy banter and cliché expressions I’ve had to endure so far. The worst yet:

(Referring to a mysterious briefcase)

‘You say that after all that, it was empty?’

‘As a bank vault after Butch Cassidy rode out of town.’

I’m not getting my hopes up too high. I waited 600 pages for something interesting to happen in John Grisham’s The Chamber, and it never did.

I have a sweet tooth for pop candy, and the fodder doesn’t get any sweeter than when it comes from Candy herself. I admit that I’ve been intrigued by the open letters that Candy Spelling (wife of the late Aaron and mother of Tori) has been posting on the internet at TMZ.com to Paris Hilton, Joe Francis, and Britney Spears. It is just a bit bizarre. Well, another member of the Spelling family snatched a headline today as well as my attention. The afore mentioned, Tori Spelling, 90210’s Donna and star of Trick, is now an ordained minister. You can’t make this stuff up! She received her ordination last week online and will soon get her certificate in the mail. He reason for joining the ministry was to perform weddings at her bed and breakfast, Chateau La Rue, in California. Her first wedding was held over the weekend. She officiated a gay wedding in a state where same-sex marriage isn’t legal. Civil disobedience?

In other wedding news, my friend Celeste gets to be a bridesmaid in an upcoming wedding. I know what you’re thinking: Let’s see the hideous dress! Well here is:


She gets to don this beauty (or seriously the ugliest dress you have ever seen) in silver. Yes, folks, silver. In Celeste’s own words, “Who looks good in silver?” Not me and not you. I’d give anything to see Cel in this impossible-to-wear-a-bra-with dress. Her boobs are enormous. I’m hoping for a wardrobe malfunction that will leave her boobs hanging to her knees for everyone to see.

Celeste, bless you heart.

Quote of the day:

Now maybe people would say they'd never install a tracking device in their significant other's car. But I think that's just because they don't know how.

—Veronica Mars, Wichita Linebacker

Back from

INACTIVITY

I’ve spent the past week internet free. Yes, it is possible to do it. Yes, I felt current-events withdrawal. Yes, the first thing I did when I got back online was search for recipes for Thai green curry and cilantro pesto. Then I took a hit of Pink is the New Blog. I’m still waiting for some super-good news about Britney.

Today is the beginning of the second week of holidays from school. Teachers report back on the 23rd of August, so I’m finding myself with a lot of free time on my hands, something I’m not really used to. I know I should have planned and prepared better for the time off, but I didn’t. I have no idea what I’m going to be up to for the next month and a half.

I have a friend who decided not to renew her contract with the school and is looking for a career change. It was a big decision for her to make, and I spent much of last week supporting her in her decision: convincing her that it was a good move because she’s been talking about doing it for months; helping her to improve her CV; making contacts.

Another friend quit his job last week, and many evening hours were spent in the pub with him, listening to the grievances he has with his former place of employment. He’s a very intelligent and talented person and has already found a better job, so there is no doubt that he made the right decision. He just needed to get some of the venom out of his system so he can move on to the new job refreshed.

Seeing close friends jump ship and move on to bigger and better things has a contagious quality, but I’m staying put. For the time being, I’m content with my employment. I still find it challenging and I have no major complaints with my employer. Honestly, I don’t see myself in the classroom for much longer, maybe another year or two. When I decided on shifting to education, I wanted at least five years of teaching experience before going back to school for a graduate degree, and this year completed the fifth.


Saturday, 7th July, was the Kampala-Jinja relay organized by the Kampala Hash House Harriers. Teams of nine ran the 88 kilometers from the edge of Kampala to the Source of the Nile in Jinja. The run was divided into 17 sections, and runners ran one, two or three sections. I ran three sections for my team, the No Hopers, completing 21km in all. We began the run at 7:30am and finished about 12 hours later. It got dark on the last leg of the run and began to rain. It had been a long day, and I was not looking forward to the next 5.4 km I was assigned to run. I did my best to psyche myself up for the final section of the run and was half-way successful, but I was wearing glasses and they fogged up so I couldn’t see anything; the path also became muddy and slippery. My frustration overrode the happiness produced by the endorphins. Exhaustion+slippery, pothole-laden paths+lack of vision=powder keg. Luckily, I have a long fuse and was able to keep my frustration within. I was soooooooooo happy to cross the finish line, grab a bottle of water and eat my piece of pineapple. There was a big party for us at one of the hotels in Jinja. I tried to attend and was there for a little over an hour, but I surrendered to my exhaustion and went to bed. I hear the party got a little crazy and went on until morning. I slept and felt great when I woke up the next morning.

Just another manic Monday? Not really. It’s actually been a great day. A couple of nice SMSs from friends to say hello and thank you are simple things that can make one’s day. I also got an email this morning from a friend who had been in the States for the last year and a half. He’s back in Uganda for a little while. What a pleasant surprise! We ended up meeting and spending a great afternoon together.