Still not the Italy post

Posted on August 13, 2008

5


Texas Miss tries to plug in my laptop.

Me: No, it’s not in. Is it in yet?

Texas Miss: I’m holding it in!

Me: You have to jiggle it.

Texas Miss: I am jiggling it.

Xi: That whole conversation was FULL of “That’s what she said”s.

Totally not on purpose. We are however glad that Xi has bought into “That’s what she said!” which we love. Texas Miss herself has generously signed up for all of my pastimes, cooking attempts, friends, and TV shows. Best arrangement ever.

Especially with Xi: he is a friend of mine who has been crashing at our place for a while for family reasons. He has proved highly useful: for example, he has taken charge of all ambooba related issues. Yes, I rent the only apartment in Zamalek without natural gas installed. This basically involves a desperate attempt to flag down the guy who sells gas canisters as he clangs by on his bicycle. Technically, the bawab is supposed to do this but he prefers to lie and say the guy hasn’t been by on the rare occasions when he does come by; or, he promises me that he will get one the next day when he clearly has no guarantee the dude will come by.

Xi solved our gas crisis, which manifested itself in countless suddenly cold showers and ruined dinner parties. He located the ambooba guy and got his number and then he got the bawab’s number and is now in charge of changing them when they run out. He also taught Texas Miss how to.

Xi is, so far, the only supporter of my desire to kill the two cats that hang around my door and eat the trash and pee everywhere and generally make a nuisance of themselves. If I leave the door open for a second they try to come in. Their names are Bondo2 (after a similar looking cat my uncle used to have) and Tumor Cat (because she has a tumour the size of a tennis ball. We thought she was pregnant at first but we don’t know if it is male or female and also, no kittens have materialized, ever, and the belly has been the same size for the past year or so.) Many of my friends have indicated that should I poison them, as I have a raging desire to do, they would stop speaking to me. This is like the time I read that the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals was founded SIXTY YEARS before the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to CHILDREN. British people are so weird with their animal stuff. Don’t they know they should focus their efforts on the much more horrendous cruelty to members of their own species? After all we weren’t born with built in defence tools like most animals are! Besides, I would make sure to use a fast-acting poison, OK? They won’t care once they’re dead. I don’t see why I should have to put up with having the hall smell like pee and trash being spread everywhere. Don’t tell me we should put the lid of the trash can on…this is Egypt here!

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