What's up!

Even if I have fat thighs
Flabby arms,
A pot belly,
I still give good loving.

This is taken from a song- aptly named Pot Belly done by a South African band- called Freshly Ground. Pam forced this band onto me. Put it on my player and plays the CD all the time. Thus, I’m boxed in a corner. I must admit, I looked at the CD jacket and didn’t think them serious. Surprise, surprise. They are actually good at what they do! And now I can’t get their song out of my system! And I saw them on MTV. OK, from now on, I’ll listen to them

I’m on a forced holiday till after CHOGM. Because the building is under renovation and as such everyone was sent home to allow the contractors finish that work. Then again I was absent the day they were issuing the CHOGM IDs. So from 1st November till 26th November I’ll not be allowed into the building. So, I’m on a holiday then a forced extension for close to seven weeks.

I’m soon running out of ideas on how to spend my holiday. So far it has consisted of telly, a few books and “just being around”. In a few days, I was bored witless and soon pulling out my hair. My mum suggested I try to do things that I’ve failed to do.
First, I made the resolution to try to follow my gym schedule to the dot. After Himself left, I‘d gone from doing twenty laps in the pool to about seven if I pushed myself hard. I once swam one lap and got out and went home. I was so ashamed of myself that day. I decided to get a swim mate. First was Vanessa- she wasn’t helping much because in two weeks, we only swam three times and less than ten laps. I went looking again and ended up with someone I’d not bargained for. Because this guy pushes and pushes and pushes. He probably swims twice as much as me and I can’t catch up. I mentally cry when I get in but at the end of it, I’ve achieved what I wanted in the first place. At least I’m back to my twenty laps and I don’t care if he’s doing probably fifty to my miserable twenty!

Then I tried baking a sponge cake. All my attempts at baking a sponge cake have flopped- in one word. I tried again and after two tries I finally got something that my mum ate and liked! With that new found joy, I expanded my efforts to Black Forest, with a little help from a cousin, and, Voila!

Also, for the love of me, I can’t make eggs. Let me just say that it comes out another way. If you ask for sunny side up, it may come out like scrambled without the milk maybe. If I try the fried egg, I get something that’s been slightly over done. The only sensible eggs I can make are poached and plain boiled- quite easy actually. The hard part here is turning the egg over to get the other side cooked. That’s when things go wrong. In the things I’ve failed to do, that I’m trying to do, making eggs has miserably failed. I give up!
My cousin Richard has summed up the failures in one word, “Fala”!

It’s officially about three weeks to graduation. In my telly holiday, I was kindly reminded that I had to get a dress and n’ebigenderako for grad! I’d been regaled with stories by Angel and Shu about walking nearly the whole length of the Kampala shops and not finding what they want or even something close to what they want. And with this unpredictable weather, you just don’t know when the heavens will open up on you! I wanted to avoid all that and I decided I’d find something from what I have.
That’s out, according to my mum. I’ve to go and find something suitable. Everyday from the start of this week, I’ve made plans to start looking. One look at the midday sun changes my mind about it and now the hunt is being pushed further and further away.

Well, I have to confront it soon because today afternoon Rita and Angel are coming home to pick me up and WE go looking for dresses. I hope I find something chap- chap, because…………………. I don’t know!!!

Off I go!
Ta- rar!