The Disaster, also known as Kelly

Bet you thought I was gone, huh? Good to see/hear that people are still out there paying attention, though I admit it is embarrassing now that more of my Uganda friends are aware of what I am writing.

So about a week ago, after a very bittersweet goodbye that involved blindfolds and drives through Kampala, I boarded my plane for London. Oh, and I caused a little scene at the airport when I went through security with a walking stick Lina had given me. The security people hounded me about the stick, asking if I knew what was in it. My mind immediately flashes to those teeny bopper movies where the American teenagers are imprisoned in Thailand for unknowingly smuggling drugs out of the country. I plead ignorance, explaining that the stick was a gift. The guard proceeds to pull the handle off the stick, and to my astonishment and his amusement, emerges a HUGE knife! And I was going to carry it on!

Many of you out there are aware of my love-hate affair with my knees, namely that they like to leave my sockets, namely when dancing is involved. Well, in lovely London, while casually ascending some stairs, I lost a knee again. Try as I might to work the whole ignore-it-and-it-will-go-away routine, I ended up taking myself to a London ER. While I appreciate the free health care and set of crutches that the good old United Kingdom afforded me, I did not require the digression from a cocky young doctor about the pitfalls of American medicine – especially as I later found out he misdiagnosed me. Whatcha gonna do? At the very least, crutches equals disability discount at the theater and special airplane boarding privileges…

Fast forward. London was fabulous, stairs aside, and I even had a quick trip to Geneva, which was equally wonderful after I managed to forget my passport and my flight. Is this all an allergy to the Western World? I arrived back in Colorado just in time for Blizzard 2005 (no, not the frozen treats from Dairy Queen). I love it.