The Uma Chronicles

I thought a lot about my friend Uma the other day. She was always way cooler than me -- still is -- and was a big fan of good music, while I was more used to bee-boppin' along to some cheesy pop song by the latest flavour of the day. I still succumb to the flavour of the day on occasion, but think that I have managed to earn some of Uma's respect on account of a shared reverance for the untouchable Sarah Mclachlan.

But the other day my thoughts drifted to Uma and how she would be holding up. Her musical god was John Lennon so, being the 25th anniversary of his death, I had a feeling that it might be a long slog for Uma to make it through from morning to night. She confirmed this for me in an e-mail, admitting that it was a pretty moving day. But nothing if not strong, I suspect that Uma managed to keep it together and celebrate all that John offered the world.

I clearly remember meeting Uma after she first moved over to our Accounting Department from BH&R. I thought she was so pretty, and (at that point) didn't hold against her the fact that she was friends with Oh-My-God Girl. (And in the small-world file, Oh-My-God Girl ended up being roommates with Luscious Lorna a few years later, which is fodder for an entire series of really painful blog entries!) But way back then, Uma was just some pretty girl from Peterborough whose wallflower personality made it so hard to have any kind of fun with her : )

On the contrary, fun always seemed to follow whenever Uma and I hung out. We've done a lot of stupid meaningful things together, like go on a road trip from Whistler to Calgary in June/95; enjoy plenty of memorable parties at the house she shared with Sterling 6000 Guy and The Love Doctor; sleep together (fully clothed and in a drunken state, of course) following one of said parties; go on a test-Evil's-new-Honda road trip with Evil and Russ de Noble up to Lillooet, ending up at a secret cemetery in an abandoned ghost town; enjoy a few Friday afternoon pitchers of Strawberry Margaritas with Luscious Lorna in the non-ventilated basement storage closet that we called an office; watch the aforementioned goddess in an intimate and interactive acoustic session for about 200 people at the Chateau (still my best ever musical experience to this day); and take a lot of photos with my hand over her breast.

Uma always used to say to me, "I hate people. You know that. But I like you." Well I like Uma, too. And I really think she would be happy if she could just work with animals, teach yoga, and live in near-seclusion on the Sunshine Coast. Luckily, she's done all of that and is one pretty well-adjusted gal, which makes me all shiny and happy inside. But oh so much more talent as well! She does a mean speaker dance at Tommy's on occasion. In a bulky sweatshirt. And hiking boots, if I recall. Fueled by a little liquid courage. And urged on by a friend like me who can still picture it perfectly clear in his mind.

I know that December 8 was a tough day for Uma. But I hope that seeing The Uma Chronicles on the web will help ease some of that pain. As she said to me in her e-mail pleading begging imploring bribing asking me to be in the blog, "...it may be my last shot at fame. Lord knows I've been beside myself since Tyra passed over my audition tape...AGAIN!"

Uma, you can now rest easy -- you've made LIL WILS! And I just love the fact that she used that abbreviation, which I read to myself as L'il Wils. In fact, I wondered why she was referring to Prince William at all. And then I figured out that LIL WILS is just the blog abbreviation : )

Uma always was cooler than me. Still is. Probably always will be. Obviously smarter, too.