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An Exorcist for dinner [Sep. 14th, 2006|01:30 pm]
[Current Location |jinns-ville]
[mood |confusedconfused]
[music |dueling violins]

I am not sure if I wrote following my recent on schedule meltdown...

I will start in the middle....it was the donkey's fault. I only said "be careful when you get out of the car, there's a car coming."

"No, it's a donkey."

Meaningless. Trivial. Just two long robed men-like a million others-on a donkey cart.

I started crying and couldn't stop. Now, it is obviously better to be run over by a donkey cart then a car. Gratitude eluded me. All I saw was the completion of a regular chaotic traffic ride, full of curses, honks-the honking here is done in signals like morse code-a certain series means "fuck you"...etc...etc...being a mere undriving female, I have not learned the code. The buses with passengers hanging out of doors, the complete families on one motorcycle, women sidesaddle, babe in arms, another kid in the front...and then, of course, the donkeys.

Suddenly, I realized, THIS is IT. Enough. The military police are everywhere, with bomb dogs, barriers, automatics which they really do rest barrel up on their crotches...what the fuck? Then I noticed that the amount of nose-picking (please indulge me here) was just too much to bear. It is just too much. It was the straw that broke the really-for-real camel's back.

So, Please answer me.

Is this a reaction to:

The recent village exorist?

My mother-in-law standing on the desert road having a temper tantrum, after a violent screaming fight with her brother...I am staring at the tops of the big ships behind the sand mountains by the suez canal...my nijab-face covered Moroccan "aunt-in-law" running down the highway, trying to grab my mother-in-law who is cursing on Friday in front of the mosque..hailing taxi's-which the menfolk slam the doors of..while she has her fit and finally takes off for another village....after barring her family from her funeral...

Or, was it the hole in my tooth, and the dentist located off a dirt road...I left and self-prescribed antibiotics....

then, the pharmacist-I thought I might need hormones-or something-sends a syringe and estrogen, so I call another pharmacist who says women should take something akin to thorazine during their "time" (Islamically women can not be lawyers or judges due to their hormonal phases) and then he turns out to be a veterinarian. Which runs full circle to the donkey.

Now, my favorite exorcist has been invited to "clean" the house of evil spirits.


I mean it. He is invited from his village compound to get the Jinn out of the flat.

I swear this is real and I have photographs and I will get him on tape. However, I do not think it is reasonable to have to have this man for dinner and tea. Are the children supposed to witness this? Do I want him to know where I live? If I do not comply, the family tribal unit-for they really are a tribe in the oldest sense of the word-will think I am still possessed by the demons and Jinn.

A moral question, for anyone who has read thus far, do I cover myself head to toe, and politely offer this 14 century man tea, as if it were normal? Or do I rage with the rage that is now consuming me for covering my head, saying yes from fear and cowardliness, and basically refuse to participate in this ongoing charade?

What would you do? I will download the pictures of the compound as able-

OK. I will need deprogramming upon my return to the real world. Or at very least, an Oprah makeover. Sometimes, it just all sucks donkey dong.

Does anyone have a backporch with a rosegarden??????????????????
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What day is it? Lost in time.............. [Jun. 28th, 2006|03:26 pm]
[Tags|, ]
[Current Location |Planet Earth]
[mood |contemplativecontemplative]
[music |the sounds of silence]

It has been a marathon of hysterical catfights, screaming in Arabic, French and English-perverted caddrivers-I mean cab-and general 100 degree plus heat..oh and I worked all night in the office and am now on every relatives Bad girl shit list....

What fun. Magazine is in prepublication. We (me?) left the word "jerking off" in the magazine-yes, Big Brother this is an Islamic country. Thank God for my happy USA passport...the censors will kill us...also left in Wonder Muff...homosexual....sex in....damp...alleys...coruption at the very top...Basically enough to get in deep shit..oh. and also f***. The shit should be hitting the fan anytime now.

My boss in the UK let all this and Jennifer A. naked from waist uo go in...first time ever! I am waiting for the letters...anyway, it's been hell and fun and hell. But we will catch major shit from the censors...even mentioned the Kahfah party-they are aresting judges and lawyers for belonging..it is all quite interesting...except I do not sleep.

I am happy and amazed to see the UK owners getting so ballsy...I am also worried about the implications of what we have published. OK for States here...major censorship...it should prove interesting...

and then there is Omar. He is in Paris. I need him to complete my novel.

and my children are unwashed. And I feel guilty working. So I spent my pay on guilt. Very stupid of me. My little girl is crying because a relative told her she looks better with her head covered so now I bare my tattoo And in a true suicidal gesture have started wearing American flag t-shirts.

It is OK we all have a breaking point. I have an invitation to the US Embassy for July fourth-Dear Big Brother IF I can't get in, please advise now, before I buy un-ripped stockings. Thank you.

I miss America. I miss sleeping. I miss driving. I miss the real world. I want my little girl to grow up free and unafraid and proud.....I am coming home via London...over and outta it..sandy still stuck
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Midnight Models and Madness [Jun. 22nd, 2006|03:48 pm]
[Current Location |on the moon]
[mood |determineddetermined]
[music |a child screaming]

I feel alone, as I haven't posted...due to prepublication deadlines and working until midnight. I think I can get this issue out-but slipped in some politics...we will see what the outcome of that is. If/when Yacoubian's Building gets to States-watch it-one of first uncensored movies here, complete with political corruption, police aggression, gays, illicit love affairs-all very un-allowed in Egypt press. It's a major deal here.

The kids are dirty. I feel horrid about working long hours. There is no damned hot water. But most of the American cousins have run off to the promised land-Thank you God!

A great deal of difficulty working, then coming back to my mother-in-laws condemnation of my working. I have free tickets and paid one day "event" for something I forget, somewhere nice though, next week. I will be at hotel alone for anyone threeeee, who can be...

I may also be in Turkey? OK, not the greatest destination, but....

I may also be in trouble due to political content of two articles in upcoming issue-I figure I'll leave Egypt with a bang. But first, I will interview Omar.

Then Good-bye. These free tickets out of the country may prove very useful, as kids will be in safe sane Europe. I think my good Karma points are coming....

It seems, that the world is working in my favour right now...the stars are all pointing home. I even have a photographer and artist for my book-not the "novel" the other one.

Pray my luck holds. Just for one month. It is all I need. One more month. Thankful in Sandy Land
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Not a Drop of Water [Jun. 17th, 2006|11:57 am]
[Current Location |shitsville]
[mood |nauseatednauseated]
[music |american movie with Jessica Lange]

OK Here's how the Universe zaps us...I complained about no HOT water-so zap zap zap-now we have no water...

Very scary here...because there really is no Public Health-an oxymoron-so if there's a "sanitation" problem it probably means something dead is in pipes-like big and dead...nobody worries about lead or regular polluted water...

MY HORROR..I am washing my face, the spigot starts moaning and forcing out water..I open my eyes and the water is brown..not brownish...brown. Ugh!!!

Trying to imitate the plague cities of the dark ages(one of my strange reading/research interests-anyone else study this for fun?), bags of poop are being thrown out the windows into general "trash area" in back part of building. It is disgusting. I have poured clorox-the elixir of life-everywhere...also, menthol back rub cream under the nostrils helps...it is all very..trying. Anyway, that is my day. I really wish we had an outhouse-it would definitely be more hygienic...may have to go to relatives...another curse. Should I get zapped again...at least the earthquake due is not here yet!

When Worlds Collide [Jun. 16th, 2006|07:12 pm]
[Current Location |africa]
[mood |restlessrestless]
[music |birds without birdflu singing]

The Two Cairos aka (seriously) The Big Mango

The American-Egyptian cousins face off with the Egyptian-American cousins in a all-boy-all-ages war in the slums. Lovely. I wasn't there for the drama, as I was being denied entrance into the Ministry of Information-Government TV RADIO headquarters-read-you'll see what we want you to see-building....

BECAUSE-as an American, I am not allowed for "security" reasons to enter building. I had an argument with security and invited them to totally search my backpack-knife was removed beforehand-and even as Press, they wouldn't let me in. It is so pissy. I have a Egyptian Resident Status...wow...so my passport does not work everywhere...

Meanwhile, in the slums, the children are fighting each other-all cousins of cousins and some double intermarried cousins...a real brawl..bruises and blood and swearing in English and Arabic...so several Americans left by bus with the 13 visiting cousins in tow. Unfortunately, I walked in on this and had to sit for tea and suffering.

The phone is unplugged...the relatives can all fight each other to their hearts' content. I am totally through with the war games. How are we to have a peaceful world when such fighting is acceptable? It is so much more than the states. Quite awful. I guess it was better to be stuck outside the Ministry of Information, like a suspicious character...or an American woman.

Cairo Two: Working on editing for Beauty Now-ie-all the fabulous French beauty products that I can't afford....answering Letters to the Editor from Muslim Fundamentalist who called the magazines last lingerie cover "porn" and american/Western propaganda, etc. etc. Bet that issue is under his bed. Found out several articles translated before I did Edit. Rewriting articles and feeling really bitchy because there has been no hot water for a week. OK, it is hot as Cairo here, but hell, I want a lukewarm bath...oh yes, and we also had a flood from broken washer...

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO THREE.......it's Father's Day in the States-yes?

over and out from still sandy in Hell
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13 children, 2 pregnant women, 1 bathroom [Jun. 11th, 2006|04:11 pm]
[Current Location |a sand pit]
[mood |complacentcomplacent]
[music |a barking dog]

Too many people in my mother-in-laws house. Mostly boys with toy guns with pellets and bayonets...oh, so cute..about 10 boys shooting each other..it is quite too much. This follows a long hot as simmering Hell day at the fashionista magazine....the women are all drama queens in dior..so I've opted for bohemian chic or it-doesn't-matter because I'm American, so if I don't wear Prada, I must be making a statement.

That statement would be I'm too cool for all this so I must be really really wealthy..hahahha.

Anyway, the office is shaping up....and the poor sensitive girl Editorial Associate that I made cry...my God...her mother's house (for a Homes article) has a guest house with separate pool the size of a villa-the house looks like a hotel....I guess nobody ever told her no before because they couldn't find her....I called her mother's entrance room, "The bicycle riding room" which she seems to find funny...where do people get all this money?

It is quite appalling and appealing...suddenly, I do want a pair of Jimmy Choo Shoes. God Help me....I actually need to buy socks...and have a working washer...what a mind-game.

MY Cousin(in law) is pregnant, her husband ran off with her five sons to a village here...it is horrible how they treat her..of course, no one knows she's pregnant and married-to a blonde American-we all got in trouble for smoking shisha, so now it is the ritual...the torment family members can inflict on a muslim women who is not one of the herd is cruel beyond understanding....they torment her with nasty comments (she left her husband) and otherwise abuse her verbally and emotionally-she has changed her ticket and is going back to the States ASAP without her five boys....

I can't understand or process the harshness I see. Sometimes,or most of the time, I wish I were tucked away in a small town with good book stores, cafes, liberal people and vegetarians. I wish the world were a more gentle place.

over and out....searching for.....something...sandy
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Weekends R Fun in the Big Mango [Jun. 9th, 2006|05:18 pm]
[Current Location |The home of the brain-sandwich]
[mood |lonelylonely]
[music |Send in the clowns]

True-people here call this city the BIG MANGO, as in the Big Apple.

I just wrote about the summer's 10 Hottest Celebs. Now, I need to vomit. Is calling Brad and Angelina Jolie the "flawlessly beautiful and perfectly potically correct couple, who when not busy saving the planet actually find time to reproduce...." sarcastic? This is the best I can do on this. Why?

Because, I also wrote something about men and women wanting Jennifer, and stepped over a few other lines regarding sexual fantasies-I think. Who the Hell knows.

I was smoking shisha by the recently bombed baazar-no spell ck-sick of it-one can still see some of the crumbling facades-now that would be a story-or the recent arrest of a famous singer for some unstated poltical reasons or even my relative whose five boys are here in Egypt with a second wife step-mother because their father fled with them to here and married and left them in this country, in a village, with a woman no one knows....but the lost mother is writing her own book and suffering...

My weekend nights (Thursday here is a weekend night-due to Islamic Friday) a visit to mother-in-laws/get in trouble for my t-shirt being too short/drive to Nile/look at water-from car/drive past my office for "ride"-men hang out at shisha place-very nasty one-men only where they serve brain-sandwiches. I wait. Tonight, suitcase shopping for children, go to mother-in-laws, second wife of another cousin there-she is also cousin, hordes of horrid children, come home, write article, contact London, get yelled at again because wearing a t-shirt and jeans, change three times like a stupid robot. Wear lingerie top just to be spiteful-long transparent sleeves/I just really want to read a good book or well, read a good book by a window with sunlight coming in, with a cat nearby, wearing a t-shirt and jeans-not too much to ask for? quite dull, aren't I? it's 3:30 am-do u know where yr. children are? Yo, the two in the States-are you MIA??????
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Taken Over by the Fashionistas-Confessions [Jun. 7th, 2006|04:11 pm]
[Current Location |waiting for daybreak]
[mood |contemplativecontemplative]
[music |a man peeping outside]

I am really working...it seems non-stop. It was really good to see some magazine articles under my name again...however, it is non-stop, and the Staff literally throws things, screams and has quite impressive temper tantrums. I am hired to be the voice of reason-now that alone should demonstrate the very unique Egyptian mentality. I confess that I made one of the girls cry because I was mean. I told her my management style was to start off as a bit of a bitch-for some inexplicable reason, the crying girl, is now following me around and ordering me food. I guess if you call yourself a bitch before anyone else does it works....

All I do is work, edit, write, then go to my mother-in-laws, come home, do more edits, and sometimes get out to smoke wonderful aromatic shisha-it is the best. I love it!

I have been trying to write something about Brad and A.-I feel like someone has taken over my body, because the things I am writing could not possibly be coming from my mind. I thought I had more brain cells. The only explanation is the opposite of writer's block, some true romance/gossip writer has taken residence in my brain. I wrote the most gossipy, shallow, bitchy, Joan River-ish things-but again-it can't be me. The next issue will be quite embarrassing as I have made a great deal of sexual comments on "Hot" stars. Actually, I don't even know them all. But being able to think like a female and male sure helps. It's all so perverted. And sometimes, even fun-God help me!

I am compelled to write something serious to atone for my recent sins. I also discovered that I really do want to shop in Dubai and wear those designer heels and it is quite nice to get invited to "exclusive" parties and such-even if I don't go. God. Am I that corruptible?

It is actually horrid that because I am an American I can get away with more-there is a love/hate relationship with the States here....right now, I'm feeling the love. Little do the fashionistas know that I have no screens and a broken washer and actually almost no money...I am faking it.

Serious things on going on here. Right now. There are things to write about that are important, that are real, that are necessary to unveil....but I am Marx on the inside and a fake fashionista on the outside.

But, Damn, if I could drive a car to any bookstore in the West, have a real coffee, and eat a strawberry Zone bar-I think I'd be content forever......but here in Cairo, there are only two choices-the ultra-expensive shoes from Paris or "ship-ships"-plastic slipper sandals...there is really no in-between.......

A traveler's tip-try the shisha with either cantaloupe or apple....it is great. I'm not quite sure what is in it, but it is better than fired eggplant sandwiches...sh
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Murder on a shoestring [Jun. 3rd, 2006|02:24 pm]
[Current Location |a shrinking butt]
[mood |apatheticapathetic]
[music |news of new bombings........]

The Very Next Relative Who Says Kafir (unbeliever-Islamic heretic-American), well, the next one.......Off with their heads.

Still Politically Correct in Cairo.

To anyone who didn't answer my "MUFF" question-I sent for publication-special thanks to any males who knew damn well men know what this means....shit...I'm going to get censored. By the Arabs. On my first issue. Baking Muffins in Egypt.....over and out...sandy hell still intact
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Is a MUFF a Muff? [Jun. 2nd, 2006|11:57 am]
[Current Location |Hell-almost]
[mood |embarrassedembarrassed]
[music |the footsteps of Marx]

Is a Muff a Muff as in a muff-slang, if one is in London? Is a Wonder-Muff really something you use to hear an iPod-do I give a shit? I believe that a Muff is a Muff. These are the important questions I have to ask male writers, who then play dumb. Or perhaps, I am wrong. Apparently the Irish writer knows what a Muff is in American slang...so, I have decided to let the title, Wonder-Muff stand as is, and I will assume that in London there is no word Muff to describe women's wonder-areas....or...does anyone know?

Anyway, I'm sure that the Arabs do not know what a Wonder Muff is?????

This is called "fun with editing" or frankly, are you quite serious that I have to write something about Brad and what's her name's baby? and what do I write....while attempting to save Africa, the famous couple found themselves fucking on the savanna and no condom was in sight....in an effort to repopulate the world with only beautiful children they mated like lions in the heat...and...and what? Out popped Shiloh, swathed in white Dior lace, miraculosly already potty trained, and with that famous little pout... born almost in a manger as there was no appropriate crib in the....what? Frankly, Scarlett, I just seriously don't give a fuck.

No problem. The Editorial Assistants are all in a flurry, as I thought they should be banned from writing for the time being. Maybe they'll poison me. They will just have to stand in line...

Unfortunately, one of them went ahead, contacted a "celebrity" got an interview and informed said "celebrity" that she would be on the cover of the upcoming issue. Now, that kind of sucks, because this illiterate child did the interview. This is not officially my fault, because I am not officially official until next issue out. She has been hiding out, hopefully bribing someone who can spell and is not on ritalin to rewrite/write/make-up her interview. Again, I need a fake name-any ideas?

My boss ran away to London. The PR person who can tell the difference between all the women who have exactly the same build, make-up artist, hair and attitude is on a yacht somewhere by Sciliy-I am serious....really, is anyone able to work-I deleted all info here-------I think I must.....be a serious responsible shit-eating adult.

I just want to get the hell out of here....with some dignity intact...and a change of underwear.....sh....it still sucks the giant donkey dong
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