Holy Snot UK...

Well, I finished my vaccinations and took out a second mortgage on my future home. I'm all set for about 200 years. Am I ready?... Yeah... I refer to Africa like this: An unstable, never ending journey on a boat that is constantly rocking side to side. Only this time, there IS no sleeping master that will wake up at any second to calm it down. To sum up. Insert clean, abrasive language here ---->

Also, while on this rocking ship, I was able to book my ticket through Hell. Yes that's right Hell.

On July 15th at 8 am, I get on a 7 hour flight to Chicago where I will meet my plane buddy James Brown and have a "get to know you" layover for 4 1/2 hours. (Not that kind of layover)

I will cross the Pacific for the first time in my life on an 8 hour flight to London where we will have an excruciciting (yes I just made that word up) 9 hour layover and by this time.... it MIGHT BE that kind of layover.

It's an 8 hour and 25 minute flight from London to Nairobi where, that's right, we'll have a 6 1/2 hour LAYOVER. Dam(n) airlines anyway.

And finally, it's a 1 hour flight from Nairobi to Entebbe where our Country Directors will pick us up and drive 2 hours to Lugazi, Uganda. That's the part where I kiss the ground and swear I'm never doing that again.

I'll save you the brain cells, it's going to take me 46 hours and 25 minutes to get there!!!

Oh. And also. SURPRISE. 6 weeks later, I do it again. Only this time, it's an 18 hour layover in London where I intend to find my future husband, (calm down Don, we live in Utah), and frolic through the fog.

But plans were interrupted with the discovery that apparently, frolicking requires a VISA. And finding your husband requires a whole different kind of VISA. Boy was I not prepared for that crap. Between the biometric fingerprint scanning, "weak dollar" fees, and potentially revealing slash required information (such as the exact time my mother was conceived and how long it takes me to run the 5k)... I decided that the UK needs to bloody calm down. I mean bloody *hell*.

In other directly related news, I am in the process of creating a flier for our HELP Uganda benefit concert on September 25th. The following is a result of permanent markers, a scanner, the paint program, and lots of wasted paid company time. I'd ask you what you think, but I just reread this paragraph and now realize that I am handicapped.

Murphy: The Eighth Dwarf

Today, being Friday the 13th, I thought I would "ode" to its brilliant existence. What better way to celebrate than with a list of, "Things I learned today!" (Note the exclamation point... and explore the possibility of it being a punctuated outlet for sarcastic inhibition).

1. The fear of Friday the 13th is called Paraskavedekatriaphobia. No. I'm not making this up.

2. My first name, Mallory, originated in France and directly translates into "Unlucky". You think I'm kidding. (Just another reason to hate the French. It's a bittersweet complicated relationship, and even with counseling, it doesn't look good.)

4. My last name, Hurst, on the other hand means woodland hill or grove. Which has a completely pleasant, fairytale undertone. Thank you first name for screwing that up. And also for giving me an irrational and highly irreversible development of Hylophobia.

5. The man who made a pass at me the other day was in fact Warren Jeffs. Apparently his thirteenth wife just left him. No thank you. Also, FYI Warren, I was not impressed with the unenthusiastic manner in which you bolstered the audacity to tarnish my once shiny soul. I found it pitiless and vindictive. (Or at least my thesaurus did, I think originally I found it mean and hurtful)
It's okay Flora, I said No. You're STILL the most attractive of the wives.

6. Murphy's Law was initiated on Friday, October 13, 1913, when a large iron fell out of a tree and landed on Murph's head (Also the birth place of the term "Irony"). Which, depending on if you followed the link, may or may not be true.

6.1. I am a frequent on Murphy’s "To Do" list. I mean, come on man! (or woman as I am inclined to believe) Maybe Murphy's Law is God's way of getting back at you for all the little sins you commit, you know, like making fun of polygamist sects.
Side note: I don't know WHY the term "making fun" has such a negative connotation.

Regardless...In light of number 6.1., and in reflecting on the impact it has had on my otherwise cheerful nature, I have made a rather monumental decision. In the name of correct analogies and direct correlations, I imagined into existence Murphy: The All Encompassing Eighth Dwarf. A distant cousin to both Oscar the Grouch and Eeyore.
That way, in the future, when I’m trying to relate my disposition to that of one of the seven dwarves I am not limited to Sleepy, Dopey, Grumpy, Bashful, Happy, Sneezy or Doc. And now, neither are you. You’re welcome.

God Bless you and your shiny soul. May Warren Jeff's never meet you.

Africa, In All Its Glory

I was accepted as a volunteer into a program called HELP International today! I will be flying to Lugazi, Uganda in Africa on July 15, 2008 and will be there until August 28, 2008. For the majority of my stay I will be teaching English to a rising generation while looking for ways to encourage development and self-empowered minds.

I've been asked many times the question why... the answer is simple.

They don't have the choice.

Their circumstances have decided their health, their ignorance, their poverty, their hunger. My circumstances have given me the power to change that. I'm not suggesting I can change it on my own. Inevitably, the choice will be theirs, and the future will rest in the hands of their children. All I want to do is give them that choice and inspire them to live it.