kigalllllllllllllliiiiiiiii

hi from rwanda! cant type on this french keyboard but all is well. rwanda is so different - dusty, smelly but beautiful. truly the land of les milles collines - a thousand hills. hard to believe there was a genocide here not too long ago. this hotel looks nothing like the movie one btw. tomorrow we are off to HEAL africa and i am excited. tonight we get some MUCH needed rest. je suis très fatigue. Goodnight!

To the Congo

I am off to my jungle adventure. All prayers for safety and love and peace appreciated. I won't have lots of email access so if you would like to check out what's going on the team has a blog: http://urcongo.blogspot.com/. I don't know how to make a link to it for some reason this mac doesn't have a link button. Anyway, go old school and copy and paste.

OK I am off. Perhaps I will send a note from Hotel Rwanda.

Peace to the out.

Don't Be Fooled, You Are Not Who You Think You Are

I found this ad littering the margins of my precious gmail today:

Are You Justin Timberlake
It's Scary Accurate To See What Celebrity You Are. Find Out Now!
www.WhichCelebrityAmI.com

Are you Justin Timberlake. Obviously not! Is someone out there wondering if they are actually Justin Timberlake? Or some other celebrity for that matter? If so, they need to be locked up in the crazy bin and google does not need to be their enabler. In my heist to know everything, however, I clicked on the link to see “what celebrity” I really am – you know, since I’m not me, plus, apparently it’s “scary accurate.” I’m scared.

So I get to the page, and it asks me THREE questions that will forever reveal my true persona: 1 - if I’m a male or female, and 2 - asks me if I like to a) sing b) dance c) other. What the hek is other? Magic like David Blaine? Anyway from there we proceed to the last question, which asks us to select what we like to do in our free time

Party around the world
Wear a disguise to everday activities
Start a charity
Adopt children from third world countries
Something else...

Well those sound like things I always do in my free time! Esp the adopting children from third world countries and wearing disguise to everyday activities. As far as the adopting, I’ve been getting really good at that hobby. In fact, I have a bunch of babies scheduled to be picked up from China right now, and they will join the Ethiopian babies I have collected in my nursery. And I always wear disguises to everyday activities! My friends sometimes don’t recognize me because I dress up as Ronald McDonald to go to work. DUMMMB.

Also, what the hek are they referring to as “something else?” Perhaps, spending time in jail like Paris Hilton? Or participating in Scientology like The Cruises? Or going to rehab? That seems to be a popular one…

Anyway, so after I answered all of those questions, I was really excited to find out who I was, since obviously, I haven’t been myself for the last 24 years – and that’s a lot of years. BUT HERE’S THE CATCH _ they make you give your cell number so they can text it to your phone.

Scammers. They’re not getting my cell number. Looks like I will have to find my hidden celebrity elsewhere. Perhaps at one of those sites where the scan my photo and place it with a celebrities. That sounds much better.

Safe!

My co-worker, who deals with risk management at my work just informed me that, since we are such an international company, it actually HAS ransom/hostage insurance for its employees! Hahaha. Apparently it goes up to $50 mil. Looks like I'll be safe after all. I knew corporate America was good for something!

If You Are Taken Hostage, We Won’t Negotiate: Please Sign For Understanding

At a meeting for my Congo trip a couple weeks ago, I was handed many release forms to sign. One in particular, caught my attention and caused…um, just a bit of hesitation. The title at the top of the form read: Upper Room’s Kidnapping and Hostage-Taking for short term mission participants.

Hostage Form (click to enlarge)



Like I don’t have enough anxiety already. “Oh don’t worry,” my trip leader assured, “it’s just a formality.” Um, last time I checked, I didn’t have to sign a hostage release form to go on a field trip, or to go to Mexico, or to work at my company. How is it now a “formality.”

As I read further down the form, my anxiety heightened. For the point of the form was to let us know that in the event we are taken hostage, Upper Room will not negotiate for us. How reassuring! We had to sign that we understood. We had to sign that we understood that in the event that we are kidnapped in central Africa, we will be left to die.

All of a sudden I wanted to curl up in a master bedroom in Minnetonka. And lock the door. Minnetonka, people are safe there. No scary kidnappers, just the sound of a whirlpool and soft Michael Buble music playing through the built-in ceiling speakers.

I snapped out of my daydream however, because I realized I can’t save the world from Minnetonka, and that’s what I plan on doing in two weeks in Africa. So I signed my life away, with the stroke of a Bic pen. I had subtle reassurance however, because I knew if I were kidnapped, George Bush would surely rescue me. He could make it his redemption platform and it would be good for both of us.

So I just wanted all my friends to know that if George Bush does fail me, however, I am charging you with Mission: Rescue Colleen From Congolese Kidnappers. And if any of you complete this mission successfully, I promise to buy you a nice house in Minnetonka, where you and I both will never be in danger again.

Um Who Cares, Oh Yeah Not Me

I am at work right now, dutifully avoiding a story that has been in the dugout for like two weeks now. It's up for bat tomorrow, however, so it finally has to get done if I want to keep my job. Most stories here I can write without too much blood, sweat and tears, and without too much complaining believe it or not. This one, however, is a doozie. And I am wishing it away like The Plague.

It's on our Settlement Operations group. Can we say BORING and WHO CARES. The thing is, no one cares, besides maybe the Settlement Operations group. Also, the thing about writing this story is this group has the most complicated job in the whole company. I met with the manager for an hour and still have no idea what his job is. Not kidding. I mean, in general I know what they do, they are in charge of balancing our 'cash flow.' So, making sure that everyone gets paid the right amount and all our money is kept track of. FUN! Don't you guys want to read the details of how exactly that is done?! Oh wait, no you don't. Because that would be agonizing and no one really cares as long as they get paid correctly. And guess what they do, so who cares. I have great logic.

It's just one of those things you don't need to know. Let's just pretend it's magic, I don't care. Like I pretend the trash is magic, or the Internet, that's magic too. I have no desire to figure out how this magic works... or it ruins the flippin' fun. I mean, how happy would you be about receiving a commission check from my company if, along with the check, you had to hear every minute detail, in language completely foreign to you, about how that money was placed in your hand, and what systems were used to place it there. NO. I'd PAY you that money back not to hear it! That's 30 minutes of my life that I can't get back! I could've used it for browsing the Internet, lecture free!!!

Ugh. I like writing stories employees hobbies/volunteerism/accomplishments much better. Because, they are actually worthwhile.

Alright, I'm going to suck it up, sit up in the ergonomically correct position and continue to use every ounce of energy my brain can provide to focus on figuring out and writing this article. Peace be with me.

Apparently, Lund's Has Really Good Seafood Salad

You know that cliché saying your mother always told you: “Beggars can’t be choosers…” Well apparently, she was wrong. I was with a friend at Calhoun square Saturday, shopping at the amazing Urban Outfitters sale, when a homeless man asked my friend if she could help him out. She asked him if he was hungry, and he said “very.”

Friend: Oh – do you want Jimmy John’s? I could grab something there?
Man (actually his name was Bobby): The deli at Lund’s has some great fried chicken, it’s right over there (pointing).
Friend: That’s not very good for you! What about some sandwiches, turkey?
Bobby: Yeah they have good sandwiches over there too
Friend: But no Jimmy John’s?? (It was the closest)
Bobby: Man, I hate Jimmy John’s.
Friend: OK well what kind of sandwiches do you like?
Bobby: They have some great seafood salad at Lund’s Deli, and if they don’t have that, great tuna.

This was the pickiest homeless guy I have ever met. I started laughing the moment he said “seafood salad.” 1. That’s not a sandwich. 2. How does he know every item on the Lund’s Deli menu? I have never even been there. 3. He was starving but still couldn't stomach Jimmy John’s 4. Seafood Salad??? He asked for that? Are you serious? Ha, that sounds like a delicatessen! I would never even buy myself seafood salad! Who even knows they have that at Lund’s?!

But my friend went over and bought him seafood salad and brought it back, and he was much obliged. Apparently, he was only waiting for his disability money to kick in before he could find a place to live. He had bi-polar disorder. Imagine being bi-polar and being homeless, well I suppose that is why he is homeless. Those illnesses are really expensive to treat, so you are kind of out of luck when you have no money. It’s sad. We are all very lucky. Well, at least he had some really great Lund’s seafood salad to much on the rest of the day. He probably was really hungry, and just couldn’t stomach any more take outs from Jimmy John’s. Oh America.