Skip to main content

Cupid Confessions :)

the cartoon Me :)
I am in love.

How do I know?

Well, firstly, as happens with me where these things are concerned, he does not feel the same way :(

Secondly, I am listening to 'love songs', ballads (as we, the 80s people call them) and feeling like I relate to them- like the words make sense :) Usually, I am as unfeeling towards them as a door post.

Everywhere I turn, there is a potential story to tell him, a gift I am certain he would like.

I refresh my gmail every other hour just in case he finally decided to send me an endearing email declaring how he is nuts about me-blah, blah, blah :)

This morning, desperate to hear his name mentioned within my 'airspace', I called a work colleague by his name. It was such an involuntary act that the guy had to ask, 'Who is ...?' You didn't seriously think I was going to give the name away, now, did you?!!...Shame! :)

I catch myself thinking of ways I can sincerely be a better person- the kind of person he would choose to love.

Colours are brighter. I notice erstwhile ignored 'nature things' like birds singing, an unusually crisp morning breeze...crazy stuff like that :)

I pray more-partly because his insanely personal relationship with God spurs me toward relating with God like that; partly because I am mildly hoping-if that ever happens-to score brownie points with God so He will do what necessary 'match-making' there is to do but quite frankly, majorly because I am thankful for the opportunity to feel like I do...refer to corny saying I am sure you are thinking of right now :) I have tended to be clinical and pragmatic about love in the past, so, simply feeling as I do and allowing myself to, happens to be a pleasant feeling :)

I have learned, over time, to take it slow with these things, so, 'pole, pole Lynn!' is the mantra in my head. I look forward to events ahead in this department and I hope I can regale you, friends, with many more interesting 'cupid stories'.

A l'avance! :)

Place Markers: the fantastic sprinters at the Open Oil book sprint (forgive the minute nature!-click on it, it should get large enough or at least give you zoom options)
From left: Nurlan, Steph, Jay, Nadine,Jeff (behind me), Me, Susan, Robert (behind Susan),Cindy, Zara, Johnny (behind Zara), Sebastian and Herbert.

Then, there's the baked goods that are 'messing' my waistline up! :(




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Mother to Son...beautiful piece

A LETTER TO MY TWO YEAR OLD September 2, 2011 at 9:12 am by Pumla Nabachwa Every year, during the week of my children’s birthdays, i shall write them a letter and keep them in separate boxes and present them with these boxes the day they graduate. (& graduate they will) Today, I write a 2nd letter to my first born son…..now Trey Gateja……My pride…….My joy! My sunshine, It’s been 730 days & we’re both still alive………let alone sane. I’m not sure how I haven’t strangled you to death yet or left you out at night hoping that a hawk will grab you & take you far away from me. I’m quite perplexed that am not in a mental hospital, let alone 6 feet under. The doctors promised me that the pain stops immediately after the baby is delivered but nooooooooo…….we’re here today & I’m still pulling my hair out. Somebody once said; “it takes about six weeks to get back to normal after you’ve had a baby”…… that somebody doesn’t know that once you’re a mother, ‘normal’ is his

The Third Day- September...The Big 3-0!!!

So, today, I begin a new decade of my life. I am thirty (30) years old! W.O.W! These past couple of days, I have been meditating on Womanhood. Walking with God and Worthiness. I want to be part of something great this next decade. I desire a fresh start in many areas of my life. I regrettably spent the greater part of my twenties trying to be a man; to be tough, rough and seemingly brave. I numbed feelings, suppressed emotions and smiled little in bid to avoid fighting like a girl because girls are weak, they are shallow and they gossip. My best friends were boys until my femininity came to the fore as a  natural course of life and giving boys 'uncensored' hugs started 'causing problems'. All my ambition, my pushing and shoving to get ahead could not erase my innermost (very feminine) desires to be loved, to be treated kindly, to be listened to, sought after, and protected. I was with the boys but not of the boys. Revelation No. 1: I am a Woman and that's ok

Dad

Dear Dad, Today, nine years ago, you changed your major  area code leaving many people pretty upset including uncle Kizza Besigye who I know would have appreciated your level of loyalty  considering memories of my S.4 vacation driving around Kampala with you as you manually tallied the Reform Agenda's votes at different polling stations:) Just so you know, Uncle K.B. is hassling; what with pepper spray, kicks, blows, gun butt beatings, being shoved under the car seats of police men (who we are all quite convinced are paramilitary- but that's a story for another day), insults, threats to his life...etc...you would have frothed at the mouth seeing how bad things have become for political opponents of the 'Great 1986 Revolutionary'.  Am sorry for putting such a lousy pic of you on the www but you hated pics so it's kinda your fault :) I cut my hair and decided I would like to keep it that way for the rest of my life...in fact, I am contemplating going complete