Comin up THIS THURSDAY

Comin Up
You know when, you know where. Come on over and let’s do this!

Oh yeah, people in attendance are usually more colorful than this thing.

because I got tagged. . .

The thing about getting tagged is that it robs me of my “mystery”. Think about it. When I sit down and try to conversate with you, you will know me inside out and if I try to lie, you will call me out on my fib. Generally speaking you can read me like a blog book…that said, here’s your ammo.

I can’t manage time. I have tried everything to get rid of this, but it just won’t work. The whole “set your clock fifteen minutes ahead” thing has refused to work for me for two simple reasons;

·        I set the clock so at the back of my mind I know what time it really is.

·        The city clocks are all over the place screaming the right time at me in black and white. At this point I don’t have the heart to glance at my dull and unhappy looking chronometer.

The problem is, my time keeping is not perfectly flawed. There are instances that I find my self right on time for. I may be late for a date, but I will arrive right on time for my Dental appointment.

I’m a beer snob. I don’t know when that started, but it’s there. I seem to have a problem with beers in brown bottles. I have tried to make it seem glamorous by saying stuff like, “I don’t do brown bottles” which in effect makes me sound a lot like those girls back at the university whom I despised for saying they only drank wine. I don’t have a thing against wine drinkers, heck after the events of New Year’s Eve 2006, I respect them…BUT it pisses me off when they say they drink wine in a way that implies they are way cooler than the rest of us! Beer drinkers are more daring, you will not get a wine gut, so don’t think you’re HARDCORE. YOU are NOT taking chances, THEY are!

I have kind of eased up though; I take canned drinks . . . under duress.

 

I have a problem with Authority Figures. I figure this may be because I like to do things my way or because more often than not, they don’t know what they are talking about. This started back in Primary School. Standard Four it was.

I say “standard” because it was not in Uganda, but across the border in Kenya.

We had this exercise in English Class where we had to arrange words in Alphabetical Order. I don’t know why they thought it was vital to learn this seeing as I’ve never been asked at a job interview whether arranging stuff alphabetically is among the skills I intend to bring to the company. Maybe you have had greater success with this.

Sad.

Anyway, so we had this exercise and I got all but one number right. I looked at it and thought it was correct, after all, back then, the letter “S” came before the letter “W”. I told the teacher so and got the thrashing of my life. Then when she got round to showing kids how to do it, in a part of the lesson they called, “Corrections”, she realized her mistake and looked at me with an expression of Horror. Like she’d just discovered she’d dealt with the son of the devil and daddy was coming to talk to her about it after class.

No such luck, after the lesson she asked me to stay behind and she apologized. She said it was her mistake, blah blah PMS blah.

If this had been Tennessee things might have played out a little different. Pamela Rogers, anyone?

Anyway, since then, I don’t like to take shit from higher ups just because they figure they are right and I am wrong…except at work. I respect authority figures in an office environment. If they say a camel is a sea creature I will not question them, but rather ask whether it should be fried or boiled before consumption.

 

I did an ARTS based course at the university. I feel the need to point this out because even the few people that know me well do not really know what I did at the university. I have been thrown occasional, “You did Industrial Arts at the university, yeah?” and “If you have your fine art degree you should be sorted” and my personal favorite, “You studied I.T at campus, yeah”?

It’s gotten so bad, once a pal’s dad was recommending me to someone for employment and I had no idea what the job entailed until I read the note he had asked me to deliver.

“This is (name). He is known to me. He did Information Technology and he is good. Give him something.”

I didn’t deliver this note lest the person on the other end asked me to create software that would allow him to steal Tony Blair’s personality whenever he logged on to check his email.

Then recently I received a call from a friend’s brother (who I suppose by proxy or over-wanting I can refer to as a friend as well) and he asks me whether my I.T skills take into account servicing computers.

I thought I’d go with the flow seeing as it could be easy cash and I could pick some help from Google, so I asked him what exactly he wanted and he says, “Servicing, you know. The kind you I.T people do.”

I didn’t go.

 

I have a sleeping disorder. I don’t know what it is called. It could be insomnia, but seeing as I don’t have a blog to go with that claim, I think I will lose credibility. I will hang out till about 5 in the morning and then wake up at 9am….the same morning. I don’t know why this is. I also have instances where I can not sleep till really late (or early if you’re one for details) and I occupy myself with music and the internet. Its sad really because more often than not I figure that when I’m awake the whole world is awake with me and consequently I call people up and send them messages at what some may call awkward hours.

I’ve contemplated popping pills, but with what happened to Heath Ledger, I am frightened.

This thing wouldn’t have been awful really, but it shows and I have a sympathizer in the form of my brother’s friend.

Not too long ago I met her at two pm and in mid conversation she asked me whether I had trouble sleeping. I was kind of shy about answering this because I figured if she knew about this, she’d surely know about my other dark secret…

Then she says she has the same problem, that she finds it really hard to sort it out and that a slice of cucumber will get read of the bags under my eyes. So much for that plan to milk ‘em…

Then she went on to say that her eyes dry out and at this point I’m thinking, “Close, but no cigar”. The fluid in my eyes stays there for a while, and for all intents and purposes it probably will stay there until I take some ill-advised trip to the sun

I listen to everything but Lingala Music. This type music brings such great displeasure to me and I do not understand why people are crazy about it.

Listening to this shit brings dishonor to my ears.

 I’m sure someone will offer his expert take on the matter with, “Oh, it’s the instruments and the way they are arranged”. Whatever! Seriously, why would anyone want to listen to a song that goes on for thirty minutes?

THIRTY!

Does anyone know what this implies?

It means, in Shoe-terms that One song is enough to wear off some part of the sole on your shoe.

It means that by the time you’re through dancing to say, I don’t know, three songs, you will be BADLY dehydrated.

It means that if you bought a radio cassette like back in the old days, you’d only have two songs on it, with each filling either side.

I don’t care that the words do not make sense, I’m cool with that. I respect artistes. I listen to Ray C don’t I? Well, actually no. I just watch her.

 

For no reason at all other than 7 being a fairly decent number (the kind you’d take for drinks and let your daughter marry), here’s one more thing;

Uganda Waragi is my Kryptonite.

 

This tag made possible by the malicious actions of Carlo-ryn

 

Tag! You’re it;

Mr. B2B, Tandra, Kissyfur, Dark Legend, Tumwi, Dee

 

RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

1. Link back to your tagger
2. Post these rules in your submission
3. Share six things/habits/quirks/whatever about you in your submission
4. Tag six [random] people at the end of it
5. Tell each taggee via comments that he/she done been tagged

 

Posted in Blogosphere, Me. Tags: , , . 10 Comments »

What’s in a name anyway?

My English Language teachers would be really upset if I went with the intro I’d planned for this. You know how it is, “a sentence does not begin with words like ‘so’”.

I don’t know. English has greatly evolved since those days in class with a certain teacher that, well, boring is just rude, said teacher could put a cup of coffee to sleep. This in a school heralded as one of the best. How I ended up there is beyond me. It’s not like I go around carrying loads of smarts. I carry just enough to get me by. {Shoot! This mango juice has given me a nasty heartburn. I can’t just sue these guys can I?} Read the rest of this entry »

A Break, Commercial in Nature…

Dear All

I had heard something about it, but now it is clear – the Ugandan Bloggers’ Happy Hour won the 1st Prize in the MS Democracy Film Competion.

What I really like about the judges’ argumentation is that they appriaciated a ‘different’ image of Africa, compared to the usual. Not because of the film’s technical quality, but because the story is fantastic: it shows an Africa which also has strong and competent people. Moreover they add that the film is made (I can personally guarentee you that) and cut with humour – a humour which is an essential part of Africa in spite of all its trouble.

Well, I knew it was gonna win 🙂 I think you all did an excellent job, on both sides of the camera and that it was fun and a real pleasure to take part in. Anyone up for a similar thing in Tanzania, let me know!

Do also notice this: http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Africanloft/~3/180567158/

Best Regards Pernille

This just in…

bhh.jpg

Because you asked… The BHH piece

The “-logue” that comes at the beginning

Time check: 6:00pm

Location: My Office… not in an “I have my own office, with windows and a desk and what not” sort of way.

I’m engaged in some very serious issues. Nuh, kidding, I’m just chatting with the blogger known from time to time as Rev. I can’t remember much of the discussion, but I think the word “boobs” came up once or twice. Was it about porn? No? Oh that’s right, it was the word booze. So it must have been about drinking… No? Ah, yes, it’s coming back to me now. It was about boots. Said something about needing some… then we steer chat towards the topic of the BHH. I complain that 6:30pm is like so far away. I cuss at my computer for lying to me. It’s saying its 6:15pm, but I know better. It’s (as you may have deduced from the first line) 6pm.

Rev tells me the announcement shoulda read 6pm, but somehow the thirty appeared seemingly of its own uh, own-ness!

It suddenly occurs to both parties in this chat session, that I happen to be in the same environs as the Blogger we call Baz and the one we call Heaven. As Rev. suggests that I should hook up with them and go for the BHH with ‘em, my phone rings as it is wont to when someone dials my number.

My ringtone is the song “STRONGER” by Kanye West. For some reason it seems a little slower than the song he sampled; Daft Punk’s, “Harder Better Faster Stronger cooler dumber greater later faker weaker kneecap…”

It’s Baz on the other side. Speak of the devil methinks. SPOOKY! I tell him I am heading to the BHH, but I think there’s more to this convo as well. I think the word “Kiss” appears. No? Keys, then. Yeah, we talk about keys. No, that can’t be right. Why would we discuss keys? Peace? The war in the north? Or some chic by that name… Oh that’s right, it’s Piece!

I am supposed to submit my piece for the paper. The one we call the leading daily. I look at the blinky light thingy that usually winks at me from the modem to suggest that pieces of internet are tickling its insides as they come to my computer. Its not winking. I realise that the winkage can only mean that the internets have decided to wait before venturing forth into the modem. I am without a web. Curses! I tell Baz that I will send it first thing in the morning.

I notice that there’s about 5 minutes left to the BHH. Awesome. What is not awesome is the fact that I have both a jumper and a shirt with long sleeves. I certainly can’t wear both. And the sun has forgotten this is the part where it is supposed to make like electricity and go. I dilly dally for a bit and wait. I publish the piece below this one in a bid to pass time and make the sun go away. I turn off my computer and leave the jumper at work and take my long-sleeved-army green-with a skull thing to the BHH. Read the rest of this entry »

Meanwhile…

I’d like to attribute my absence to the fact that I got a job, but that hasn’t stopped loads of bloggers I know.

I’d like to claim that given the heat that was radiating off of the ‘sphere last week, I took a back seat to watch and enjoy it. What? Guilty pleasure. You and I know you enjoyed it as much as I did…the whole solidarity thing…

The whole idol worship thing amused me to say the least… as you can tell, given that I have finally gone out and put up a picture. Think of it as testing the waters while I contemplate starting some sort of ” group or sect bound together by veneration of” blogger pictures… what-about?

To make amends for the fact that I can’t come up with a satisfactory reason for not blogging, I will cave in to the last demand on this post.

aivan1.jpg

I want to narrow it down to the fact that I got a job…but that was yesterday… when I had to endure decent clad, all black mind you, and got a few disses from people who for some reason can’t fathom the possibility that I own such clothes. I’d like to state that I keep such attire for emergencies such as (but not limited to…)

  • Job Interviews
  • Weddings
  • Funerals
  • Babies’ birthdays

Also, in the on-going CHOGM billboard debate, I honestly think that if you’re going to get a bunch of people to say they are ready for CHOGM, get real people. People like you and I, or the boda boda riders, get people that the public can relate with/to. Ofcourse the Kyabazinga is ready for the damn thing. Dude’s going to meet the queen of England, for ****’s sake!

I don’t know what Rio Ferdinand’s angle is… He is telling us we are ready for the world? I won’t hold it against him though…spend one night in the Serena and you will also get deluded enough to say things like that. Given that (and statistics are not my strong point) 99.97% of us do NOT in fact STAY at the Serena, that’s an unfair statement to make.