the 'window' is shut

It's a little harsh, but I don't 'invest' in strangers

'P' phoned me 3 times on Wednesday. The third time, he used his friend's phone and asked me to call him back on his phone... that he had ran out of credit on his pay as you go phone (if he was trying to impress this was not the way...).
In the course of the conversation, he claimed that he wants to marry me  (mind I have never met the guy), and has already picked out schools for the kids. I laughed because I thought it's all a big joke. When the conversation started looking like it was serious (starts referring to me as his 'wife'), I suddenly found 'something important to do' that needed my immediate attention.
He reminded me that I'd agreed to meet on Sunday for a date. I thought it was just lunch. He insisted on calling it a 'date'. He reckons that after the fourth one he will go down on his knees and propose- which i will accept
I ask "How are you so sure I want to marry you?"
"When you meet me, you'll think 'Yeah this is the one!"

Okay, curiosity has got the better of me, so was looking forward to the lunch ('date' according to him)
We agreed on a time - 2.00 pm, but not a place because he didn't bring it up. You'd expect that the person who suggested the meet up would call before the appointed day to confirm a venue

Thursday - no call

Friday - nothing

Saturday -  still nothing

I made other plans

Sunday at 2.30pm, he calls and leaves a message asking me to call him back. Is this guy having a laugh?
7.00pm, another phone call - I watched the phone ring but make no move to take the call. He didn't leave a message this time.

As I said, I don't invest in strangers

Surreal...

So I got this really weird voice mail this morning,

“Kimuli, my flower, it’s me, give me a call when you get this message”

Hmm

The accent was male, Ugandan with undertones of an English accent – so someone who has lived here for a while. I scoured my mind trying to figure out who it could be. The only people who sound like that are the Kiwanuka brothers? But we keep in touch and if they were coming to London, I would have known. And anyway they wouldn’t call me ‘My Flower’ usually they call me ‘Little Flower’ or ‘Petit Fleur’.

Who could it be?

Nothing for it. Will just have to return the call and find out

“Hello, this is Kimuli”

“Heelloooooooooooooooo, my flower” like he was greeting an old friend.

“Who is this?”

“I got your number from your brother” Okay so he is my brother’s friend

“You wouldn’t even guess who this is.”

“Is this Denis… no wait… it can’t be Denis… Denis is in Kampala”

And he certainly doesn’t call me ‘My Flower’


I won’t bore you with all the details of the conversation. This guy who I will refer to as ‘P’ finally told me his name. Nope didn’t ring a bell.
He said he was very good friends with my brother. Apparently we met 15 years ago and he’d been quite taken with me but because I was his friend’s younger sister I was ‘off limits’

Clearly this is not an issue anymore because he asked my brother for my number – which the latter gladly gave with the vital information that I was still single.
He then went on to give me what Ugandans would call his ‘CV’

When he met my brother (while on holiday in Uganda – actually he gushed on and on about my brother which I thought was a bit much);

What he does for a living (runs his own company);

Where he lives (an empty 3 bed roomed house which he’d like to share with someone hint hint);

Do I have a ‘type’? What’s my type?

Oh my gosh you’ve got such a lovely voice, do you look as good as you sound? Would you like to go out for dinner… this weekend!??!!!

Whoaaaaa….this is going way too fast for me

I’m intrigued, so I’ve agreed to meet up for lunch this Sunday.

I hope he looks as good as he sounds

Homosexuality revisited

A close friend 'came out' to me this evening.
He'd probably been thinking all evening about how he'd introduce the subject and he said quite randomly:

"I had a relationship. I was really into this person. It was a guy"

I was stunned - took a while to absorb the news.

Just yesterday at my bible study group we were discussing what our passions were- being an indicator of where God wants us to serve and use our gifts. I mentioned to them that 'Homosexuality', in particular 'homosexual Christians' is a subject that is close to my heart. It's one of the major issues dividing the Anglican church. St B's stance is that they accept that some people are born with homosexual orientation, but that they should not act upon it. Rather they should commit to living in celibacy for the rest of their lives. My opinion is "Bollocks!" If the church is acknowledging that homosexuality is natural, then why impose celibacy on them? Wouldn't that be going against their nature?

I likes absolutes. Black or white. I hate grey areas. My position on homosexuality used to be very clear to me, after all don't these verses from the Bible condemn homosexuality?

Romans 1: 26 - 27 (NIV)

"Because of this, God gave them over to shameful lusts. Even their women exchanged natural relations for unnatural ones. In the same way the men also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another. Men committed indecent acts with other men, and received in themselves the due penalty for their perversion"

Leviticus 18:22

“You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination.”
Leviticus 20:13
“If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall be put to death, their blood is upon them.”

But I've since been exposed to other teaching that has put this subject into the 'grey'. Leading homosexual Christian teachers claim that these Bible verses were taken out of context. That they were relevant for that time and that culture, but do not apply to modern day Christianity. Much in the same way that slavery was legitimate and accepted during biblical times- but unacceptable these days. The best reasoned case I've found is here
So maybe I should not condemn St B's for 'sitting on the fence', because that's where I am also. What I do know is this: - a lot of my gay brothers and sisters are being driven away from the church and from God because of the rejection, judging, despising and pity that they face from other church members
The church should be a place where people meet God, experience his love and as a result have their lives transformed. I do know of churches where the gay Christians are welcome and live fruitful, faith and Spirit filled lives. Clearly their 'homosexual orientation' does not keep them from forming a relationship with God. Through them, God has touched the lives of the wider gay community and brought them home.
And for me that's what's important. I should be focussing on ways to include people in the family of God - regardless of who they are or where they come from. All this other stuff, homosexuality, seems unimportant in the light of what really matters - God, his unconditional love for his creation and his desire to restore the broken relationship - if we will have him.

Examinations

I'm preparing for my exams next week.

I haven't done exams in ermmm 13 years. It's really takes discipline to study. One of my issues is the even though I'm quick at grasping broad concepts, I can't be asked to learn details. Examiners are obsessed with detail. Particularly really boring subjects like Corporate Governance and Risk Management. Hey you, I saw that yawn.

My employer gave me 2 weeks study leave. A week's already gone by (so fast). During this time I've had lovely lie- in's in the mornings, wandered up and down the flat tidying things, doing laundry, tried out new recipes (to my younger sisters' delight) - everything except actually study. I've squeezed in an hour or so everyday, but mind wanders and I'm up making another cup of tea

So I really need prayer at this moment. That God helps me make the most of the time left

Online TV

Online TV streaming and an unlimited download limit from my broadband provider have been a blessing for me. I no longer have to plan my busy social life around my favourite TV programmes because I can always catch up later online.

Advantages of this is that I can pause, forward, rewind, don’t have to buy overpriced DVD box sets (which I only ever watch once). I can even watch episodes that are not yet out in the UK– as I get perverse pleasure from telling my friends what’s going to happen next... Mwah ha ha haha ha ha

Ehem..

The thing is that I was so excited about catching up on 30 Rock, Ugly Betty, Privileged; Desperate Housewives, X factor, Being Erica, the Book Group, The IT Crowd etc., that I ended up watching ALL the episodes. I have now run out of programmes to watch

So I googled ‘American TV romcoms’ and stumbled across 'Drop Dead Diva'. It’s about a would-be model called Deb who has a fatal accoident. While she is being processed by an angel called Fred at the pearly gates, he tells her that she is a self centred zero – no good or bad deeds in life. While he is deciding what to do with her, they have an argument and she hits the return button on his computer. This sends her soul back to earth where it enters the body of recently vacated soul –a plus size lawyer called Jane. As you can imagine this is a bit of shock to Deb who used to be size zero and always got by on her good looks. She isn’t allowed to tell anyone that she’s Deb. Plus side is that she gets Jane’s IQ. Fred gets demoted to her guardian angel. And TWIST…Deb’s boyfriend Grayson works in Jane’s firm….
Okay, when you write it out it doesn’t sound great, but it really is compelling viewing. It’s so refreshing when the protagonist in a programme is a big woman in her early 30’s. You get to see things like the bias and judgement people have against big women. You feel her pain when she is powerless to stop Grayson from falling in love with her office nemesis - super bitch Kim. I also just love the clothes Jane wears.
The last episode of Series 1 ended on a cliff hanger. I hear they’ve commissioned a second series.
I can’t wait!

The Secret

My younger sister asked me,

“What do you want in a guy?”

I launched into a list of ‘don’t wants’, which she interrupted with

“I didn’t ask you what you don’t want, I asked what you WANT?”

Hmm – never thought about that!

She lent to me a book called ‘The Secret’ by Rhonda Byrne– which is about the Law of Attraction. The basic premise of this law is that ‘like’ attracts ‘like’. The things you focus on – negative and positive- become your reality. So if you focus on positive stuff, you attract positive things and so with the negative.

As a Christian (or whatever I am these days), my knee jerk reaction is to dismiss ‘The Secret’ – after all it is New Age stuff. The problem with New Age is that it seeks to de-personalise and control God, by reducing Him to terms like ‘ the universe’ or ‘Energy’ or ‘the Force’. I have too much respect for God to even think that I can begin to control Him. Don’t think I haven’t tried it. Like many Christians I am guilty of trying to manipulate God through prayer

But there’s something to be learned from the Secret. After all truth is truth - whether it is in your doctrine or not. Most of the principles in the Secret are borrowed from the Bible. These Biblical principles aren’t restricted to just Christians. Regardless of who you are, if you apply them, they will work.

For example Faith - in the Bible, the book of Hebrews 11:1 (New International Version) says that faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. The book of James 2: 17 says that - Faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead

In the Secret, a story is told to support the statement - When you want to attract something in your life make sure your actions don’t contradict your desires

Here’s an extract

…a story of a woman who wanted to attract the perfect partner into her life. She had done all the right things: She got clear about what she wanted him to be like, made a detailed list of all his qualities and visualised him in her life. Despite doing all these things there was no sign of him.

Then one day as she arrived home and was parking her car in the middle of the garage, she gasped as she realised that her actions were contradicting what she wanted. If her car was in the middle of the garage, there was no room for her perfect partner’s car. Her actions were powerfully saying to the Universe that she did not believe she was going to receive what she had asked for. So she immediately cleaned up her garage and parked her car to one side leaving space for her perfect partner’s car on the other side.

The story goes on about her doing the same thing about her making space in her wardrobe bed and concludes with, After taking all these powerful actions and acting as if she had already received her perfect partner, he arrived in her life and they are now happily married

Hang on; isn’t this faith coupled with action? A Biblical Principle?

So fired up with this story I decided to apply some faith to my life – and what a result.

I wrote a list of all the things I wanted in the perfect partner e.g. nice teeth, taller than me, educated, musical, middle class, spiritual, extrovert etc and then started acting as if he’d already arrived in my life. (Okay I haven’t replaced my single bed- would that be going too far?)

The next day, as I was waiting for my train, a guy randomly started talking to me and conversation ended with him giving me his number and asking me to call him if I wanted to go out for a drink. He pretty much fit the brief. I was amazed. Today I met up with him for coffee, which was nice, but spark was somewhat diminished. The learning point is that I need to revise my criteria – not make it focussed on external. Talking to him made me realise there are other things I want in a guy – which he didn’t have.

This is exciting stuff!

Roller coaster emotions

Yeah, this week's been pretty rough, but by the grace of God I'll get through it

I'm so glad I have girlfriends to talk to, who are not fazed by my tears and raw emotions.

Predestination and free will

Calvinists believe that God has divided humanity into two groups. One group is "the elected" and includes all those God has chosen to know him. The rest will remain ignorant of God, and the Gospel. They are damned and will spend eternity in hell without any hope of mercy or cessation of the extreme tortures.

Personally, I think this is rather unfair position. Most of us evangelical Christians put our best efforts towards preaching the gospel to as many people as possible so that they have the opportunity to decide whether they want to accept or reject it. We believe that every one has free will and God does not impose on this.

This may not be biblical but as I understand it (blame it on 4 years Law school), certain conditions must exist before someone can exercise free will ergo: -

1) A person must make an informed decision – having understood the full implications of what they are rejecting or accepting.
2) The person must have a choice in the matter

In criminal law, if the defence can prove that at the time a criminal act was committed, the accused did not know or understand what they were doing, or had no choice in the matter (such as self defence in murder trial) then they are entitled to an acquittal based on diminished or no responsibility. (or they lacked the mens rea if you really want to be technical here)

But if, according to the Calvinists, a persons’ fate has already been decided by God, then clearly they had no choice to begin with? So where's the free will?

I was airing my frustration about this to my friend Jody the other day (don’t act all surprised… I do have deep conversation sometimes!!!). I enjoy hanging out with Jody. We spend a lot of time spinning out wacky story lines for my bestseller (patience my friend... release is imminent...ehem... just need to start writing). She believes in predestination but not in the way that the Calvanists do.

Jody came up with this profound insight. Maybe we do have free will? Maybe there are a myriad of choices that we could make, and God can see how each plays out to their conclusion?

Have you seen the film 'Sliding Doors'? It begins with a woman called Helen on her way home after being fired from her job. The film deals with two separate scenarios that evolve from Helen (a) catching or (b) missing a train. The viewer sees the two stories played out alongside each other. In one story she becomes happy and desperately unhappy in the other.

Perhaps we are all like Helen? But instead of 2 scenarios, there are SEVERAL scenarios, and God knows and sees All Of Them? Or maybe it's what my friend Rene said when I included him in the discussion a few days later

'...that every single alternate possibility that they (people) ever could have chosen has played out in trillions of parallel universes....'

Maybe God doesn't know EXACTLY which particular choice (out of the several) that we'll make at the 'decision points' of our lives. That would be a little more exciting for Him, I think...

But then again I'm just a human trying to understand a big God! So I'll stop here instead of speculating even further

But it makes you think, dunnit?

Wedding Drama

Last Wednesday at 10.30pm I received a phone call from my friend.

"Kim have you got a bridesmaid dress, I am getting married next weekend?"

????

"Kim, Kim, you still there?"

"Sorry, I thought you said you were getting married next weekend?"

"Yes. That's what I said"

I established a few facts like:- she wasn't winding me up and definitely not pregnant ("are you sure?" "Yes, I'm sure" "Really?" "I'd know if I was pregnant, wouldn't I?"

So what preparations have been made so far... Urm... did you say "nothing ?"

Honestly!!

If it was just the registry ceremony that would have been ok, but there's the all important wedding reception to think about! Why do we need wedding receptions anyway? Stressful and a waste of time and money!

It is so hard to plan a last minute wedding on a very tight budget? As in soooo tight with bride and groom both unemployed and no savings! The fact that it's a last minute thing means that none of us friends had enough notice to put some money together to make a contribution. Most of us thought they'd get married next year not next week?!!

The wedding is taking place in Richmond registry office. Richmond is an affluent area, which translates into NOT CHEAP. It's been tricky finding a venue for the reception. On Thursday evening we came across a charming Italian restaurant/wine bar with a private dining area that is available next Saturday. The manager, Stefano is not charging us for hire or decoration of the room. The menu has a choice of 4 starters, 4 mains and 4 desserts; with canapes to start and coffee to finish- and works out to £28 a head. There is also a wide range of wines and champagnes to suit all budgets. He's not even taking a down payment. I just loved it. However, the groom is not too keen on the restaurant. Yes it's a bit on the cosy side, but there are only 19 guests in a space normally used for parties of up to 25. AND he is only charging us for 19....
I wish he would trust my judgement just once. It's not like as if he has the budget to be fussy. He reminds me of that 'Location, Location, Location' show on Channel 4 where the househunters on the lowest budgets are the fussiest! You can almost feel the Kirsty and Phils frustration.

It's a truth universally acknowledged that the less money you have, the MORE you have to COMPROMISE.

The other option was the Richmond Hill Hotel. It's plus points were a stately function room with lots of space and high ceilings. Also location as it is close to the registry office and Richmond park where the wedding party will be taking photos after the ceremony. However, the menu offers a limited choice of only 2 starters (one has to be soup), a vegatarian or meat main dish and only one dessert - for £32.50 per head! This is in addition to the £120 for room hire. Because the room is so big, you'd notice if it wasn't decorated - this will cost some more. The cheapest wine on the menu is £20, and it isn't even a good wine. A bottle of champagne is £70!!!

So there you have it cosy and cheaper or the stately expensive one?

Would be easier if they just scrapped the whole reception idea and just used the money for their honeymoon.

The Weekend break that never was

I am supposed to be in Dublin right now.

When Ryanair put on a special offer of £1 flights a couple of months ago my friend Rene asked if I wanted to go with him for a ‘non-romantic weekend in Dublin”. For £2? SURE!!

I have been boasting to all who would hear (yeah I know... first class irritant me). It’s not every day that you get a £2 return flight to Dublin? And seeing that we’d spent so little on flights we splashed out on a nice hotel right in the city centre. Separate bedrooms of course!!

But I’m not in Dublin…

On Friday when checking in online, I couldn’t print out the boarding pass for the flight back from Dublin. I phoned up the Ryanair customer service desk who explained that boarding passes couldn’t be printed until 15 days before the flight

“ Yes I know that. My return flight is on Monday”

“But ma,am it says here that your flight is the 14 October?

“Yeah. That. Is. MONDAY. It. Won’t. Let. Me. Print. Out. My. Boarding. Pass” Honestly. Where do they get these people!!!

Silence

“Madam, 14 October is a month away”

How could I have missed that? shit shit shit

With a sheepish “thank you for your help” I checked frantically for any cheap flights back on the 14th September – the cheapest was £73. Quick calculations brought me to the sad conclusion that my cheap weekend break was not working out to be so cheap after all. A phone call to Rene to let him know about the change of plan – he just laughed. I also had to cancel the hotel booking and got hit with a hefty late cancellation fee of £69. Ouch

To add insult to injury, I’ve spent all weekend indoors nursing a cold (It’s not swine flu) I just hate being sick

Well the good news is that those £1 deals come around again and you can be sure I’ll NEVER make that mistake again.

Sweden

A friend Ellen lives in Gothenburg with her family and invited us 'girls' to spend summer bank holiday weekend with them. They have a summer house by the lake Valbo Ryr about an hour away from Gothenburg which is really pretty. The view through the huge french windows were stunning- like one of those picture post cards - shimmering lake waters against the backdrop of ever green conifers and aspen trees with their trembling leaves. Most traditional houses in Sweden are made from wood, painted red and white. The air is fresh and it's very clean.

On Saturday Ellen's husband Claude took us out into the woods to pick berries and mushrooms. Most of the blueberries and lingon berries ended up in our mouths (specifically Yati's mouth!!) , but we managed to saved some for a tasty pie which Ellen made later on.
There were so many varieties of mushrooms. Claude tried to direct us on which ones to pick, but when he saw me heading for the lovely red and white capped one (you know the poisoned one that killed Babar the Elephant's grandfather?) , he thought better of it and we were relegated to just watching. The canterella mushrooms which look like yellow brown daffodils, tasted divine when cooked in a typical French dish mixed with scrambled eggs. Fresh food tastes sooooooo good!

When we got back to the house however, Claude warned us to check ourselves for ticks, he'd found a couple on Poppy the dog....

Sweden is to the north of Scotland and Orkney islands which are VERY cold so I was surprised at just how mild the weather was. Ellen explained this is because of the gulf stream. We were not far from the west coast of Sweden also called Bohuslan coast so on Sunday we visited the sea side town of Fjällbacka where Ingrid Bergman used to have a summer house. There is a statue of her in the town centre. The houses looked like cute little Lego (toy) houses - Claude pointed out the Widows walks - sea facing balconies where sailors wives would look out for their loved ones return (or not). Our lengthy climb up the cliff using the sturdy wooden staircase built into it's side was rewarded with a lovely view of archipelago (small islands ) sprinkled around the sea below us. SO beautiful. Unfortunately, the camera battery died so couldn't capture the moment on film. Not to worry. We'll be back.

Afterwards we visited an old Viking burial ground. There was something really peaceful about it. We climbed up another cliff to the side of it to a spot where Ellen said it was customary to call upon the Nordic Gods - Odin, his wife Freya and Thor. So we linked arms at the point, and THEY shouted . I just couldn't bring myself to do it - which proves to me that I am way too suspicious and do not want to invite unwanted spiritual elements into my life.

We drove back singing Abba songs - it seemed appropriate. On the last day we spotted a moose. It was right in the middle of a field just watching us and posing long enough for us to take photos. What a privilege. Apparently not many Swedes have ever seen a moose!

What I really loved was watching Ellen and her family. They are a solid unit, very affectionate and enjoy each other's company. I envy them. I was so challenged that when I got back to London I invited my brother over for dinner. The first thing he did was switch on the TV, talk to on his mobile, play around on my laptop and left straight after supper. Oh well!

It was a lovely introduction to Scandinavia, and I have an open invite to Gothenburg. I think next year when it's warmer and I've saved up I'll visit other countries like Norway and Denmark

Refusing to Choose

I’m so OVER the fancy dress group phase. It was fun; I met some nice people and will keep in touch with a few (I’m guessing also that the real reason is that due to weight gain I can’t afford costumes anymore - all the cheap ones come in smaller sizes…). Last weekend I was invited to a few parties and an impromptu barbeque, but I wasn’t feeling them and opted to stay in. Yeah I know… shocker!

I’m just not interested anymore

My psychiatrist penpal said that I sound like a ‘scanner’. Scanners are people who have diverse and multiple interests and find it hard to create a successful life that they love because their passions and abilities take them in so many different directions.
She recommended ‘Refuse to Choose -A Revolutionary Program for Doing Everything That You Love’ by Barbara Sher. I read an excerpt from the book which listed some phrases typically used by Scanners. A few of these really resonated like
“I can never stick to anything."
"I lose interest in things I thought would interest me forever."
"I get bored as soon as I know how to do something."
"I can't stand to do anything twice."
"I think everyone's put on this earth to do something; everyone but me, that is."
"I can't pay attention unless I'm doing many things at once."
"I'll never be an expert in anything. I feel like I'm always in a survey class."

In the last 2 years, I’ve backpacked, studied Italian, taken Salsa classes, challenged myself to read through all the Sci fi/Fantasy books in my local library so that I could become a 'critique', currently working my way through Terry Pratchett, learnt how to do sound mixing, became an editor

I'm really looking forward to reading this book. According to the blurb, Sher has developed dozens of powerful techniques to free people from goal paralysis and readers will stop thinking of themselves as dabblers or dilettantes, and find innovative ways to live lives of variety, challenge and joy.

It’s amazing how freeing it is to know that I don’t need to exhaust my energy fretting about finding the ‘one thing’ God has called to do. It's kind of like the time I discovered I didn't have to spend my life trying to earn 'brownie' points with God to earn his love. You can't earn what you already have. Real eye opener that!

I’m also looking at my job through totally different eyes. It has ceased to be just a place where I mark time until I 'discover' myself. I can focus on the positives like how it gives me work/life balance through flexible working and 30 days annual leave a year. I’m free to indulge my scanner nature on other diverse pursuits. I already do this, but now I can do so without the burden of guilt associated with my lack of ‘career ambition’

The beautiful people

I like watching Ugly Betty. It is entertainment that doesn’t stretch the brain. It is an American sit com based in New York and revolves around Betty Suarez, unglamorous and good-natured girl who works in an uber-chic fashion magazine Mode. I wouldn’t say she was ugly although she’s got thick dark hair, wears large pink glasses, braces and some very odd clothes.
In last week’s episode, Betty goes to great lengths to win the affections of her musician neighbour, Jesse. She throws an exclusive Mode after party on her apartment’s roof so that his band can play ‘and get exposure’. Unfortunately, after the party she is crushed when she walks in on him snogging her glamorous room mate Amanda. Amanda wasn't aware that Betty had a crush on the guy. In the aftermath, when they are talking over things, Amanda comments wistfully

"You know you're lucky Betty. When someone falls in love with you, it's real. I never had that. I never know if I'm loved for who I am or because I'm so pretty. "

Funny that...

Mia, St B’s latest ‘hot’ new convert (all the guys are going gaga over her) echoed the same sentiment. She said she wanted to settle down and get married, but claims she is sick of guys just looking at her pretty face, and not really taking the time to know her as a person

I’m normally cynical about pretty people feeling sorry for themselves. After all their good looks open doors for them, people accommodate them and make allowances for their faults, and they have confidence that stems from being popular and always having their way. In the game of life, the odds are stacked much higher in their favour compared to us plainer folk.

My sister once invited a former beauty queen to spend Christmas with our family. She was former Miss California, or was it Miss Teen California – I forget… not relevant…she was very beautiful. My family relates to house-guests along the lines of a Kiswahili saying that goes: 'Mgeni siku mbili; siku ya tatu mpe jembe', which literally translates as ' Visitor for two days; on the third day give him/her a hoe'; so when I showed up for Christmas lunch, and she greeted me with,

“Kim! You’re here! Now you can make me some Earl grey tea. Your sister here has been drinking coffee all day”, I led her to the kitchen, pointed out the kettle, tea bags and sugar and told her “I have mine with milk and two sugars, Thanks!” Shock. She was accustomed to people always doing things for her, but when she left a week later she told me that it was refreshing to be treated like a normal person for a change.

I admit that I have double standards. Just last weekend, I was at a salsa club eye-balling this gorgeous German guy on the dance floor. He was tall, had lovely features, great body, BUT was a lousy dancer. I mean he was lacking basic rhythm and in salsa where a man has to lead, it is kind of IMPORTANT. Despite this, a lot of women approached him for dances. To my shame, so did I – he was just so cute. One wonders, had he been ugly, would anyone have danced with him?

There was a point to this post, but I've lost my thread. Perhaps we should spare a thought and have some sympathy for the pretty people among us. I'll find it somewhere. What do you think? Should we feel sorry for the pretty people of the world? Are you perhaps a pretty person and would like to share your experience with us?

Dull Christians

I’ve been pondering on a recent conversation I had with my friends on our Girls night last Friday about why we are finding it difficult to socialise with fellow Christians.
The reason given was that, “Christians are dull”… But are we really?

Having lived between 2 extremes (from having only Christian friends, to having none at all) I have observed that the Christian parties I’ve attended have not been that different from non-Christian parties. Perhaps in the former, there is less innuendo, fewer swear words, no drugs, and everyone makes an effort to be ‘nice’.
These aren’t ‘deal breakers’.

Looking around at the girls I noticed that we were all single, independent women in our early 30’s… Could this be the reason why we find Christians dull?
Let's break it down even further. Isn't it more that we find Christian men dull?

In the Church, there are a lot of timid, socially awkward men who never take any risks – particularly in relationships. I heard once that the guys in Hillsong church London have been instructed by their pastors not to even hug woman, or ask them out on dates just in case she get’s the wrong idea....probably want to start a relationship... uh oh… she’s over 30…so biological clock is ticking… wants babies… marriage… I’m not ready for commitment… she’s not even perfect….surely she should look like (insert whatever hot celebrity they’ve been fantasizing about that particular week) and still act like Mother Theresa…HYPERVENTILATE

I know what you’re thinking girls… it’s just a coffee right?

On the other hand, the non Christian men that we meet at parties, flirt with you (which girl is impervious to a bit of flirting), shower you with compliments and generally make you feel sexy. You don't feel like a social pariah just because you are over 30. Granted, sometimes it does cross the line into sleaziness which is not pleasant... but most of the time it’s light hearted and fun!

Hmm let's think about this for a second.
Christian party- guy acts like he's got something stuck up his arse, carefully weighs everything he says to you, doesn't pay any compliments
Non-christian party - flirts with you and is fun.
I know where I would choose to be

Into Gay Territory

Yesterday, Giulia and I headed to the West End in search of a bar for drinks. I wasn’t in the mood to be hassled by guys, so we decided on Compton’s – a gay bar on Old Compton street in Soho. It’s one of those classic old fashioned looking bars. The bar staff serve really quickly. When we walked in, everyone looked up and I whispered to Giulia, “Are you sure it’s alright for us to come in here?”

Yes, I know, it’s a gay bar but no women in sight. How come gay bars only ever have men?

The DJ in the back was playing ‘wicked’ tracks, and we spotted a Japanese couple gyrating on the raised section behind him. We joined them. It wasn't long before we were surrounded by other guys. They were all friendly, introduced themselves (Ray, Chris, Mohammed) and danced flirtatiously with us. That’s what I like about gay bars –you’ll have a good time and won’t have to worry about sleazy advances.

Or so I thought.

Mohammed it turns out is not gay.

“I thought you were supposed to be gay?”,

“I really like you, let’s go to my place afterwards”

“Nah, man I came to dance. Let’s just have fun here ok”

What are the chances eh? I go to a gay bar and still get hit on?

At 10.30, the bar closed and we spent some time chatting outside with our new friends. Ray is from New Zealand and was listing all the best gay clubs in London. Chris, from USA, had introduced himself as an “alcoholic” and then burst into high pitched laughter. I replied “That’s funny, and then not.” He is really into music and as a hobby mixes tracks which he gives to DJ’s to play in clubs. Mohammed on realising that he was not going to get any action from me left. Giulia lost her phone, so Chris offered to check on his laptop for her mobile operator’s website so she could report it stolen. Ku bar, which has a free Wi-Fi connection, was still open. And so it came to be that I was in the basement of Ku bar, hanging out with a bunch of gay men, on a Sunday night. Chris and I ogled the bar and waiting staff who were topless - big shoulders, waxed chests, tapered waists, six-packs. Mmm. I remarked, “For the job interview, they probably just had to take their shirts off” Chris pulled up his shirt to reveal his skinny chest. “What are my chances?” I burst out laughing.
A really good evening I think Giulia and I have decided to explore the gay scene a bit more.

Another thing about gay clubs –no queue in the ladies toilets! Nuff said!

Sabbath

"Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labour and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your manservant or maidservant, nor your animals, nor the alien within your gates. For in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but he rested on the seventh day. Therefore the LORD blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy. (Exodus 20: 8 – 11 NIV)

Yesterday I phoned up the office and asked my manager for the day off
“I’m not sick, just feel very tired.”
He agreed but told me he was a bit concerned about me as on Monday I’d been very quiet. I assured him that I’d be fine Wednesday. “I just need some time off that’s all”

So spent a leisurely day in bed, ate up all the leftovers in the fridge and ice cream from the freezer. Finished reading Terry Pratchett’s ‘Reaperman’ ( I’m still trying to figure out this one– Death supposedly retired, a new one appeared to take his place, there was a combat which somehow the old Death won?). I later on watched TV reruns online of Cupid and Dirty Sexy Money – but gave up on that when my Internet connection kept dropping, causing the video to freeze and buffer. I finished off the day by pampering myself with aromatherapy bath oils and a face mask package called Drift Away – a present from St Bs from two years ago (so it did come in handy after all)

This morning I felt quite refreshed and ready to take on the world again.

There’s something to be said about Sabbath. God knew that work work work with no rest leads to major problems like stress, depression. In today’s profit driven society business is 24/7, licensed trading hours for shops has been steadily increasing – when I first came to this country in 1998 on Sunday trading hours were 11 – 4, and now an extra hour has been added to this. I always wonder at people who complain about shops being closed on Sundays. They claim that they are not Christians, so why should they be subjected to observing the Sabbath. If only they could get over the whole ‘everything-Christian-must-be-bad’ hang up, they’d realise that Sabbath is for their benefit. It's funny how they would rather hear it from some secular self help guru (who's probably borrowed it from the Bible anyway- just not using the same jargon)
As human beings we get bogged down in the technicalities of things, and never look to the reason why they were instituted in the first place. I know Christians who don’t take Sabbath either– the ones always involved in ministry at church the whole of Sunday. You know the ones... they have full time jobs 6 days of the week, and then volunteer at church on Sunday. I used to be one of those Christians and I burnt out big time

The whole point of Sabbath is a day of rest from your labours – to give your body and mind a chance to recoup. It doesn’t have to be on a Sunday or a Saturday (depending on your denomination). Mine yesterday was a Tuesday.

Perhaps if God had explained Sabbath a little better… maybe we wouldn’t misinterpret it so. Look at Orthodox Jews – dating back to Jesus days. They turned their observation of Sabbath into a burden. To the point that when Jesus healed a man on the Sabbath – they moaned about the fact that he’d done something unlawful, totally missing out on the miracle that had just taken place in front of their very eyes.
Jesus told them "The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath" (Mark 2: 27 NIV)

This is not rocket science.

Panic

In my job, I’m working towards my professional qualification in Internal Auditing. In November I will be sitting for the first 2 out of 5 exams. My Employer is forking out a lot of money to pay for this!

Last Friday we had an all day training course on Risk Based internal auditing. The course made some sense while I listening to the trainer;
not so much sense when we did the group exercises
and on reviewing the course notes today – now no sense at all!

This afternoon I downloaded a past paper from the IIA website for practice on Paper 3- Internal Audit Practice, and got into state of panic because I couldn’t even answer one question. Even with the £80 study manual in front of me for reference! This paper is apparently the ‘easiest’ of the 5 and no one in my team has ever failed it.

How am I going to pass these exams? My brain feels like a sieve – and I’m not even pregnant (before you start, I heard that pregnant women have difficulty retaining stuff)!

How's the job going?

‘How is your job going?’

I hear that question a lot. The answer I give depends on who has asked it
For those who just ask me to make conversation – not because they really wanted to know, it’s “Fine” with a bright smile
Those who know me slightly better get “Going” or “Dull” (grimace)
And then there’s the third category
“I wish I had never taken it in the first place. I am surrounded by middle aged colleagues I can’t relate to; sick of being stuck in an office or boring meeting all day, sick of jargon I don’t understand, writing non-inspiring reports on subjects that are of little interest to me.. Did I mention I hate the long commute?”

By this time they’ve got an ‘I-wish-I’d-never-asked’ expression and since I am trying not to be so negative I end lamely,
“Oh, the canteen is really nice, cheap, good quality food”

I feel really guilty about it especially in these tough economic times where unemployment in the UK is estimated to be 3 million in 2010. My younger sister has been looking for a job for almost 3 months now. It’s a tough job market and I should be grateful that I even have a job. And not just any job. I worked hard to get this one! I’ve never prepared so thoroughly for an interview before. I prayed and cried for it. And when I got it, I was delighted that it came with an unexpected promotion, pay rise and an interest free season ticket

But, the reality is far removed from my expectations. I don’t want to do this for the rest of my life. I enjoy doing PA at church – not the techie side (I’m hopeless at that), but interacting and feeling part of something bigger. I also like the video effects side of things.
I could possibly continue volunteering at church and perhaps gain some qualifications on a part time course. The only hurdle is that most audiovisual part time courses are not available in the evenings. So that would involve going part time at work. Can I afford it? At the moment ‘it’s a negative’! What’s getting in the way? I won’t be able to afford to pay my mortgage and pay off credit card bills. I could possibly sell and rent lodgings somewhere. I think I’m going to write down this plan of action. Hmm

Random Encounter

On Friday Kemi and I decided to bond over making tiramisu and watching TV. (Okay I supervised and decided what we'd watch). We started off the evening in the supermarket where we went a bit wild. Ended up with a very heavy bag of groceries which we lugged between us. As we were waiting for the bus, a guy in a Mercedes pulls up and asked
'Where are you going girls? Do you need a lift?"
I blurted out "Yes please" and without hesitating hauled the bag into the back seat, gesturing for Kemi to get in. She almost had an apoplectic fit and whispered furiously,
"Kim, what you doing? You don't even know the guy!"
"But the bus is taking ages to come"

Layi (his name) drove us home. (I must add caveat that Kemi was strongly opposed to this) and then asked us what our plans were for the evening.
"We’re making tiramisu"

You could tell that he wanted us to ask him in. He kept dropping hints, which I ignored and instead thanked him profusely for his kindness. Before he drove off, he asked if he could come and visit us from time to time. "yeah, that would be nice"
"How will I contact you?
So I gave him my number and that was that....

An hour later I got a call from him.

"How’s the tiramisu coming along? Umm, I've got a bottle of wine, and it's really not great to drink on my own. Can I come over and share with you girls?"
"Oh alright then, come over"

Kemi - “What you doing Kim... we don't even know the guy.... what if the wine is poisoned... we need to call someone and let them know that we have a STRANGE man coming to our house.... let’s put out Bibles and play Christian music"

Maybe I'm too trusting but unlike Kemi I wasn't suspicious. Layi brought a nice bottle of French red wine (it wasn't poisoned… see I’m still alive), and stayed chatting until like 3.00am when I politely threw him out (or else he would have gone on for longer). Quite knowledgeable, well travelled, appeared to be genuinely interested in people - a bit of name dropping here and there. Lousy taste in music. He DISSED Beyonce. Hmm! Kemi claims that he was directing all the conversation to me and that he really liked me. (Well she was giving him the third degree ‘Who are you? Where do you work? What kind of family are you from?) I didn't pick up any ‘I like you vibes’. I never do unless it’s blatant. Actually Layi reminds me of one of my best friends, Eddie, who passed away 4 years ago. I can see Eddie doing the same thing.
Typical extravert,
Totally spontaneous
Or maybe he was a bit lonely and just wanted company.
Unfortunately I don’t think we’ll be hearing from him again. He phoned on Sunday morning – I was at church. So he said he’d phone later. When he did, I was on my way to church again for the evening service. He couldn’t have gotten off the phone any quicker. His last words were a vague. “Okay, I’ll phone you some time’
Yeah, and we know what that means…
NEVER.

Heat Wave in London

In London, we’ve been having incredible temperatures this week 30 – 31 degrees Centigrade– which is great if you are on holiday, not so great if you have to travel to work. Our Public transport has very poor ventilation and air conditioning. Add this with the number of commuters crammed in (on Victoria line – about 600,000 per day) makes for some unpleasant journeys. Hot, crowded

Yesterday, a colleague decided to travel home by bus because he thought it would be cooler. I smirked when I read the headlines in the Metro ‘30 degrees … but buses keep heating on’. Apparently despite ‘sauna’ like conditions drivers are not allowed to turn the heating off in their buses as it can only be done by engineers! Either this is a strategy for engineers to protect their jobs or another classic example of British Health and Safety rules gone mad! What’s so hard about installing simple temperature controls that can be operated by drivers? After all, we have them in cars?

London!

A Second Kind of Loneliness

It’s the loneliness of people trapped within themselves. The loneliness of people who have said the wrong thing so often that they don’t have the courage to say anything anymore.

The loneliness, not of distance, but of fear.

The loneliness of people who sit alone in furnished rooms in crowded cities, because they’ve got nowhere to go and no one to talk to. The loneliness of guys who go to bars to meet someone, only to discover that they don’t know how to strike up a conversation, and wouldn’t have the courage to do so if they did.

There’s no grandeur to that kind of loneliness. No purpose and no poetry. It’s loneliness without meaning. It’s sad and squalid and pathetic, and it stinks of self-pity.

Oh yes, it hurts at times to be alone among the stars
But it hurts a lot more to be alone at a party. A lot more.

Extract from ‘The Second Kind of Loneliness’ from DreamSongs I - George R. R. Martin
Published in Great Britain in 2006 by Gollancz

Paradise Gardens Festival 2009

Last weekend I went for the Paradise Gardens festival in Victoria Park, East London.

I avoid East London as much as possible. Unfortunately for me, because it has the largest Asian and Black population in London, it’s the only place I can get my hair and eyebrows done at reasonable prices so I venture there once every 2 months.

Its streets are dirty, crime ridden, with crumbling buildings that screech ‘deprived’. Londoners were quite bemused to learn that in April, the travel section of the New York Times was encouraging tourists to visit Deptford advertising it as ‘London’s Wild West’ and nearby New Cross is supposedly ‘hip’
The metro newspaper quoted a local bar maid, “All I can say is I hope they like hoodies, muggers and junkies"

Pretty much sums it up. I could add to her list,
‘Chavs’,
So-called white supremacists (why do they always live close to the people they hate?)
Muslim extremists,
Cockney gangsters

Before you East Londoners take offence and ‘come after me’, there are some bits (emphasis on bits) of East London that look nice. Even though you have to bolt yourselves in your houses for fear of burglars. Government is pouring loads of cash in a bid to regenerate the area in time for London Olympics 2012. So maybe there is hope that at least for that one month it will look better?

Whoa!
This article started out as a field report on the Paradise Gardens Festival, and now it’s become a lesson on why you should avoid East London

Yati and I had a picnic just by the big stage in the middle of the park that had live world music (e.g. Gipsy, Reggae) throughout the afternoon. Yati and I go for many free music festivals, and noted a familiar solo figure dancing in front of the stage. We’ve debated on whether he is homeless or not – but his clothes and the handkerchief he uses to wipe the sweat off his face look clean. He twirls about, lost in the music waving his hands above his head; sometimes moves jerkily to a rhythm that is only in his mind. Other dancers give him a wide berth although once in a while, someone will join him where by he’ll get excited. Very entertaining! He must have spotted us laughing hysterically at him because during a break he came up to chat. His name is Roy. We complimented him on his dancing saying he was “a pleasure to watch” He replied “That’s not the only way I give pleasure” Ha ha ha (ewww!)

A couple of friends joined us later. We stopped to buy Italian ice-cream from a cute Albanian ice cream man called Nimak. He told us that he wasn’t Italian but would like to learn the language. I pointed at Giulia “She is Italian”… wink wink… “She could teach you. What do you think of her?” “Yeah she’s cute” “Shall I give you her number?” He passed me a piece of paper and I wrote it down” (ok I was a bit drunk). Giulia (also a bit drunk) who had been laughing throughout the whole exchange asked me “You didn’t give him my real number did you?” He phoned her the next day that started with “Hi, I’m the ice cream man” They’ve arranged a date this week. Watch this space
Mark (of the fangs) was also there and asked us to join him at the ‘White Mischief’ tent. It was advertised as a place that combines unique live musical acts with some of the most astonishing vaudeville and circus performers around. We got to know Mark a bit better. He is a ‘dandy’ (“I am NOT a Goth. Goth’s are a bunch of middle class kids who hate their parents”) He wears heavy black eyeliner, dresses in black, his myspace page has photos of him modelling in various gothic stances and his stage name is Markabre Charade? Easy assumption to make!
I stand corrected! (And educated)

The most memorable act for me that day was MC Elemental, who does Victorian hip hop. He raps about subjects like ‘Tea’.
“When I say ‘Earl Grey’ you say ‘Yes Please’…
‘Earl Grey?’… “Yes please”; ‘Earl Grey’… ‘Yes please’
When I say ‘Oo’ you say ‘Long’
‘Oo’… ‘Long’; ‘Oo’… ‘Long’

Charming!

Sardinia Part 2

I'm disappointed that no one picked up on cliff hanger from my previous post! Oh well, good job I like writing, even if it is for the audience of one. Although that was not good for my ego I tell you.
My sister insists that I should publish this blog into a book. I don’t understand where she’s coming from since very few of you read it, and those of you who stumble across it don’t come back or even leave a comment to let me know that you’ve been. I am clearly not pandering to the ‘blogging’ public
My brother and his friend, Francesco gave us a lift in their hire car to Agririposo Olivar, which about a km from Alghero town centre. It is a beautiful guesthouse, quiet, clean and nestled in an olive grove. The large rooms were bright and colourful (ours was orange). The Irish couple in the next room recommended the sea-facing restaurants in old Alghero town so in the afternoon we set out to have lunch.We found a seafood restaurant, Aquatica Bar Lounge Restaurant, on the water's edge. The menu had a choice of 3 sea food platters, 17 Euros for small, 22 Euros for medium and 25 Euros for large. The waiter told us that the small platter was too small, but the large one would be enough for 3 people. So we went with his recommendation. The food was brilliant and we thought 'Bargain! We'll come here everyday!" When the bill came, we found out to our shock that the actual cost was 25 euros per person. We called the waiter over to clarify - yes that was the price. I felt really cheated! I know that we're tourists, but don’t they owe their customers a duty to be clear on their pricing. TIP: When you are next in Italy, before ordering remember to ask if the advertised price is ciascuno (pronounced CHAS -KOO- KNOW) the Italian word for 'each'
EC and Francesco caught up with us, and then drove us around the north west of Sardinia. Although he grew up in Rome, Francesco's paternal relatives are originally from Sardinia, and he spent a lot of his childhood here. He took us on a sightseeing drive to beautiful beaches like the salt pebbled beach of Saline- where the sea was crystal blue; to posh Stintino on the north western tip of Sardina where we spent an afternoon lazing on the popular white sand La Pelosa beach. the tranquility was only spoiled by constant interruptions by Senegalese and Indian hawkers selling goods ranging from beach towels to costume jewellery. We also went to the towns of Porto Torres, Lu Bagnu, Sassari, Sorso, CastelSardo - a seaside town built around an imposing castle high up on a mountain.

On our last evening, Francesco's friends, Pasqualino and Antonella, invited us over for a barbeque. There was a lot of meat, aubergines with a parsley dressing, local Sardinian wine. His other guests were friendly- didn’t speak a lot of English, and so it fell to me to do most of the translating. My Italian needs a lot of work! I observed that the Italian girls barely touched their food and drink and were content to just eat the raw fennel on a tray in the middle of the table. Whereas, us foreigners ate like starving refugees, and drunk so much wine and the after dinner liquer. We were embarrassingly drunk.
Sardinia is lovely! I wouldn't live there for fear that I would take itfor granted. A lovely holiday destination, with great beaches and hospitable people

Do you remember, the most important for those tourist trap restaurants?

CIASCUNO!

Sardinia Part 1

I wish I still had a camera
But even photos would not do justice to this lovely island off the coast of Italy

For the last 4 years I have been travelling to Italy for my birthday. I didn’t think it would happen this year because of a poor financial situation. I'd even stopped attending my weekly Italian classes because there was no motivation to keep learning. What's the point if I'm not going to practice it.

A couple of weeks ago Yati phones me up to ask
“Can you get Monday’s off work? How about a long weekend in Italy?”
“Yeah, that would be lovely, but I am broke, so aint gonna happen”
“Don’t worry about that. Emily and I are paying for it”
“What? For everything”… ( in case she was winding me up)
“I’m serious, give me your passport details and I’ll book the flight”

Can I just say how overwhelmed I am by the generosity of my friends? I really don’t deserve them! I really don’t!

And so early Thursday morning, I was at the departure gate in Stanstead airport ready to board the plane to Alghero, Sardinia.
I heard someone call my name, and squinted at some dodgy looking black guy with a tall cream hat. Hang on a minute, that’s my brother,
“What are you doing here? Where you going?”
“Alghero”
“Me too”
“You guy. Are you stalking me?”
“What do you mean I’m stalking you, I didn’t even know you were travelling”

Won’t bore you with the details but conversation carried on in the same vein.

It was one of the best things that could have happened on this holiday...

Reflections on Worship

Yesterday afternoon I got a text from my friend Ruby saying,

'Mass text, I just win 2 free tickets to Beyonce @ O2 tonight. Hit me up for the spare, whoever gets back to me first gets it, Rubes x'

Well you know me and free things! I fired back a text with "Me!" but my mate Jules had got there before me! I grudgingly congratulated Jules for her luck and half-jokingly mentioned to my colleagues,
"Maybe I should call up Jules and say it was my birthday on Saturday and since she didn't give me a present, she should forfeit her ticket to the concert"

At about 6.00pm she calls me to ask whether I was still up for going to the concert!
"Is that a question? What do you think?"
She was feeling rough, and anyway as it was my birthday on Saturday, it's only right that I should go instead of her!
Result!!!

And so to O2 I went for the most brilliant concert I've ever been to in my life! Beyonce is AMAZING! She is gorgeous and had such stage presence. Her voice is outstanding. She belted out all the favourites like Baby Boy, Naughty Girl, Crazy in Love, Listen, Single Ladies, and then some not so known ones (at least to me) the girls in front of me were REAL FANS because they knew the words and dance moves for ALL the songs!
She graciously let the all female band share the spot light with her allowing them to showcase their amazing musicianship. Her Big Afroed lead guitarist (who used to play for Lenny Kravitz) was brilliant! And the backing vocalists called the ‘Mama’s’ had such powerful voices

The backdrop to the stage was a large screen with stunning visuals that complemented her, the songs. During the song Ave Maria one there were scenes of waves crashing, and background sounds of the ocean.


I was so impressed with the technical centre, the quality of the sound production; overwhelmed by the whole concert. I REALLY want to work in this field and it has given me the much needed push to pursue excellence in PA and AV.
Beyonce’s concert was celebration of herself. She’s worked hard to get there and it shows. Let her enjoy it and reap the rewards of her labour. Our adulation is temporary and will only last as long as she continues to scintillate and give us what we want. It is a sad truth that once the youth, glamour, good looks and voice start to fade, she will pass on into obscurity like the rest of yesterday’s stars.

Imagine how much more elaborate a production celebrating God would be!

There’s always a conflict in worshiping God passionately and self-indulgence. Where does one draw the line? For me, this is not a problem as I don’t enjoy the contemporary ‘indie’ or gospel worship songs that we sing in church. I just sing the lyrics. Although, sometimes there are cheesy lyrics like “I kiss the Son” by Tim Hughes (shudder) which (for me) is just awful!

I went to a Hillsong worship concert once which opened with a fantastic audio visual production showing shots of various natural wonders from around the world. This was overlaid with phrases like ‘God is the Creator’ ‘God is Awesome. In that moment, I believed it and was overcome with an awareness of just how awesome God as Creator is.
I wish I could showcase and celebrate the qualities, personality and character of God in a similar way. I don’t know how I can do this, but one day!

Birthday Weekend

You know those cartoons where the sleepy character has to prop their eyes open using matchsticks! I wish I could do that in real life! I am SOOOO tired. On hindsight I should have taken today off work. I was dozing in the Risk Management workshop- in front of clients!!!

It was an eventful weekend!
Friday night, a good friend Rob invited me for his wife Amy’s birthday dinner in a Middle Eastern restaurant called Darbucka. We lounged on cushions and ate delicious (though overpriced) food at low tables. I only get to see Rob once every 6 months, so make the most of it when we meet up.
After dinner I checked out Bantu night event that aims to bring together the Bantu speaking people of East and South Africa. We have similar words in our languages, and linked by the word ‘Bantu’ which means ‘people’ – hence Bantu people. Incidentally, when I went to South Africa I learnt that this has evolved into a demeaning term that was used to describe the ‘Blecks’ during apartheid. To use it there causes the same amount of offence as the word ‘nigger’ does to Black Americans.
The event was ok. I tried to befriend a group of Tanzanians and then Zimbabweans – but this was hard because everyone was sticking to their own. The Ugandans weren't very friendly either.I gave up and instead stationed myself in the middle of the dance floor for the rest of the evening. The music was good –mainly Ugandan pop which is a truly unique blend of traditional Ugandan, reggaeton, rap, lingala, hip hop and Jamaican dance hall styles of music. Kemi would have loved it. I left at about 1.30am, caught the trusty old night bus N29. Got home about 3 am–went to bed at about 5.00am

my 'baby' sister

Saturday dressed up as pirate and joined my fancy dress crew at the Tatershall Castle pub boat which is moored near Embankment station. My younger sister and B were just standing there laughing at the antics of my ‘fancy dress’ friends. I must admit they are mad. I met Mark, who has 4 natural fangs that have grown out on top of his other teeth- amazing. He told me that he once had them removed but they grew back. He’s a composer and works in theatre. I told him
“With those teeth you were definitely born for the theatre!”

I don't know whether you can make out the teeth in this photo.

We then made our way to Zoo bar off Leicester Square. The club has 3 rooms, each playing different style of music. I loved the Funky House/Dance music room. My friends (except Tiago and Giulia) who hate it, voted to go to the RnB room. The sound and air conditioning in that room wasn’t great so after a while I got bored and went back to the funky house room. An Algerian, Mohsin, homed in on me to dance, and then followed me back to the RnB room. He kept pestering me to go outside with him for a smoke. I’d had a lot to drink by this time, so Stuart stepped in and asked whether I needed rescuing.

Me and my Sicilian friend Giulia!

A couple of my favourite guys- Stu and Tiago

He took me to a sofa where we cosied up apparently looking so cute that someone asked whether we were married. (again!) Stu and I then had rather bizarre conversation about our 'wedding'. I’d be dressed in a bright red mini dress and the church would be decorated with disco lights, music set to funky house. Stu would be at the front dressed like a DJ waving his hands shouting, ‘Can I get a whoop, whoop!’ Haha. I glanced up and noticed Mohsin with a hurt expression on his face. What is it with these guys? You dance with them and they think you owe them? Left at 3.00am and got home at about 4.00am

Stu and me- cozying

Sunday Iwas on to do PA at morning service. No one to blame but myself really because I’m the one who does the technical team rota. How I managed to do it, with only 3 and half hours sleep- I don’t know. Lots of coffee! Jackie Guy - fantastic dancer

After service I went down to the South Bank Royal Festival Hall for the Bloom Festival that my good friend Jeanette organised for that weekend. I took part in the African Caribbean dance workshop that was taught by a Jamaican International Choreographer called Jackie Guy. He did not look his age of 73. He was cracking hilarious jokes! It was a lot of fun. Not only did he teach us some dance moves, but dropped in bits of Jamaican history and culture.

Got home at about 5.00pm, but had to stay up to watch ‘The Apprentice’ at 9.00pm . Was really pleased that Yasmina won this year. I went to bed at midnight.

Not bad going for a 34 year old eh?

The London Loop

The 140 mile London Loop, referred to as the ‘walkers M25’, goes around the London Greenbelt area (Zones 5 and 6). It features country parks, woods, stately homes, farms and the odd ugly industrial building.
Three years ago a colleague lent me a London Loop guidebook which broke it down into 15 sections of approximately 9 miles each. At the time, Yati, my sister Ngonzi and I were determined to tackle a section every other Sunday, however, interruptions like our unpredictable English weather, foreign trips etc have meant that we’ve only done a third of it.
There are several websites on the London Loop but the one I like best is this one by a guy called Stephen and his dog George. (Sometimes there’s another dog called Ellie). It's got nice photos of the walk and his dog is cute.

Last Sunday Yati, Jody, B and I walked the Petts Wood to West Wickham section. The guidebook said that the walk was 9 miles long, but I’m pretty sure we walked about 11 miles. It didn’t get up to a promising start. When we left the train station, ‘someone’ holding the guide book, got their left mixed up with right and we made the wrong turn. When we didn’t recognise any of the roads we stopped to ask for directions,
‘Uh Jubilee Park is one mile back that way!” (The way we’d just come! Hmmph)
B took over the guidebook and did a good job of navigating us through the rest of the walk. It was a pleasant day; the woods provided shade against the heat. Half way, we stopped at a lovely village pub and had a well deserved drink in its beer garden.

B was quiet as usual. I don’t know why he hangs out with me and my friends. He can’t possibly enjoy himself. There is just nothing in common. He is into history, current affairs, and politics. Whereas I am into gossip, guys, clubbing, films, fiction. (Just reading that sentence back I seem quite shallow. Heck…. I am shallow). Such a shame because he really is quite good looking!
I’d kind of hoped that B would hit it off with Jody. She tried to engage him in conversation, asking incessant questions but he only responded in single sentences- never volunteering anything extra. After a while it gets exhausting. Even for listeners. In the end she admitted defeat “He’s just too quiet!” She even asked him
“Why are you so quiet?” and he responded “I just am”
Oh well

Rivers in the desert

I’ve started June in negative bank balance. Not to worry… what are overdrafts for eh? Of course this means that the next month will start on the same note and the cycle continues. I feel really vulnerable – teetering on the edge of this abyss. I’m so dependent on this one job, credit cards and overdraft– which could easily be snatched away. There is no ‘safety net’- no investments, savings or rich relatives to bail me out. Each time I enter my pin number I wonder whether this will be the one that will push me over completely.
The way I deal with living in credit is with a ‘stick-your-head-in-the-sand’ mentality. I’ve got to deliberately NOT worry about the future, live in denial or I will go insane. This is a hard thing to do as I’m a worrier by nature. I keep things bottled in; wind myself up so tightly, and then in a moment of release it all comes out – often disproportionately to the situation. Yesterday during the sermon I burst into tears when I heard the words from Lamentations 3:17-26 (Contemporary English Version)

I cannot find peace or remember happiness. I tell myself, "I am finished! I can't count on the LORD to do anything for me." Just thinking of my troubles and my lonely wandering makes me miserable. That's all I ever think about, and I am depressed.
Then I remember something that fills me with hope. The LORD's kindness never fails! If he had not been merciful, we would have been destroyed. The LORD can always be trusted to show mercy each morning. Deep in my heart I say, "The LORD is all I need; I can depend on him!" The LORD is kind to everyone who trusts and obeys him. It is good to wait patiently for the LORD to save us.

I’ve made bad choices, but I think I’m where God wants me to be. I need to trust that he will turn this mess around. And if he isn’t turning it around quick enough for me, then he isn’t. Perhaps there are lessons I still have to learn- responsible stewardship for one.

I can choose to wallow in depression, or focus on the blessing that it is. One of my favourite verses is in Isaiah 43:19 where God says he ‘creates rivers in the desert’ (Amplified Version). And there have indeed been rivers. If I hadn’t been in this situation, I would never have known or fully appreciated just how kind my friends and relatives are. Ros and Jon lending me their car; Yati and Emily offering to pay for a holiday to Italy; Stuart buying me drinks at every social gathering; Paul bringing me loads of meat (Kemi remarked “He must have slaughtered a whole cow”) and Kemi who barely has anything, buying me the occasional little thing to bless me.

And so I praise you God for this shitty, unstable situation. I will try not to worry too much, continue to look for the lessons that are yet to be learnt, enjoy the blessings and wait on you. AMEN.

Matchmaker Matchmaker make me a match

I'll be the first to admit that I'm pretty crap at this 'guy stuff' and need all the help I can get. One of my friends, Emily has been trying to set me up since we were at University. She fancies herself a bit of a matchmaker and calls me up at least once a month, to tell me that she's found me yet another 'perfect match'. Usually nice guys, but just not my 'type' (one time even the guy was gay).


And whenever I make a new guy friend, Emily is always the first to urge me to move the friendship to another level "After all... you enjoy his company so you are halfway there." She obviously hasn't caught on to the fact that guys I fancy NEVER make it to the 'buddy category'.


For a close friend, I don't understand how Emily can get it so wrong. At the moment she's convinced that what I really need is a serious, intelligent older man (YAWN)


Earlier in the month, I invited my friend B to her house party and true to form she decided that we were perfect for each other. Never mind I barely spoke to him for most of that party - we don't have a lot to say to each other. I laughed it off at the time, but when she kept bringing it up in every conversation it stopped being funny. Apparently, I'm too picky. Don’t get me wrong. he is a nice guy, good looking too. But there is just no chemistry and our interests do not intersect at all. Yesterday we went to the British Museum together. As soon as we entered the main exhibition, he wandered off on his own. I was a bit confused. After all, if someone invites you out to a museum or art gallery surely it is to share the experience. I tried to engage him in conversation about the artefacts, but he was clearly not interested. I might as well have gone on my own. Just as I was working out an exit strategy, Yati showed up with 'S'. Things got much better from then. We managed to shake 'B' off and had a great afternoon together.


I was very impressed with S


Yati has been wanting to introduce S and me for ages. She said he was my type, we'd get along, I'd really like him etc. I've been putting it off because after Emily's matchmaking efforts, I am reluctant to meet anyone recommended by friends. I should have trusted the fact that Yati lived with me for 3 years and knows me better than anyone else. She's nailed this one! From the fact that he’s a Christian, to the height, build, personality, age, interests, looks, a touch of political incorrectness… At least one friend listens to me!! In a way S reminds me of ‘A’ (another guy that I had a MA-HOO-SSIVE crush on a couple of years ago). I was so into him that I literally threw myself at him, and was firmly rebuffed! Won't be making that mistake again. Hmm, how am I going to do this!

Rugby Sevens

On Saturday, courtesy of my new friend Ruby, I went to watch the Emirates Rugby Sevens at Twickenham Stadium She got free hospitality box tickets through the company she works for.

Rugby Sevens is an International event and is made up of teams of seven, playing short 14 minute matches. The last time I watched a live rugby game was in Uganda – over 10 years ago, so was really excited. I just love Rugby players. Especially No 12 England team Chris Cracknell who has a fantastic body! On the Rugby Football Union website, he is listed as ‘Unattached’. I know, it probably means that he is not tied to any Rugby team, but one can hope…

Ruby and I met up at Richmond station. As the advertised free bus shuttle service was not running, we walked to the Stadium. On the way, she smoked a joint. I didn’t realise it then, but must have inhaled quite a bit (keep this in mind, will come back to this later)

The atmosphere in the stadium was electric. There was a large Kenyan turn out to support Kenya team. The Southern stand was full of them – colourful and loud. Ruby and I went over to soak in the atmosphere. The Kenya team did really well winning 2 out of 3 games. They only lost (with dignity) to Fiji which is a superior rugby team anyway
.
Then there was the England team. Each time they came on the cheer leaders would stand in parade waving England flags. There’d be a flash of smoke and pyrotechnics and the commentator would shout “Here's what you've all been waiting for....WELCOME YOUR TEAM” The crowd went wild. I screamed myself hoarse – for Kenya, England, and South Africa.

Throughout the day, I had a splitting headache – I’ve never experienced such intense pain. I realised I must be suffering from the side effects of that smoke I inhaled in the morning. Second-hand skunk smoke is bad for you. Next time Ruby lights up –I will distance myself, put a wet cloth over my mouth and nose! I never want to go through that again. Terrible