aren't you someone famous?

The waiters at Kiotori (the Japanese restaurant at Mega Mall) want to know if I’m an actress, a “famous actress”! What do we read into that? “My goodness no! Why would you ask that?”

“It is your manner… like a famous actress yes?” Picture five, very handsome (Kiotori has the best looking waiters overall – Paul’s has the best looking one in Morocco but that’s another story) standing around me and grinning expectantly. I felt like Santa Claus on Christmas morning, but I’d been caught without presents to present…

All righty then, if you chaps say so, but “NO,” and what does that mean?! Not diva behavior, I reserve that for people I don’t like. I think my verbal/physical interactions, without the ability to converse fluidly in their language, is misinterpreted for charisma? If it gets me the best table (the one with an outlet) and great service, then I shall work it. I am NOT, however Mr. DeMille, ready for my close up! For the youngsters in the crowd, refer to Sunset Boulevard.

Everywhere in Soussi and Agdal is Valentine’s Day – the gym, the Mall, the shopping area in Agdal. It seems surreal somehow. Large and small velveteen red hearts hanging on red ribbon seem to be the attraction of the day. No Harlequin covers spotted – yet, but a huge red arch in the shape of a heart at the entrance to Paul's! I will try to get a photograph for you before it is gone.

It is February and it is SPRING here. This is official as it came from a Rabat taxi driver… I have whiplash from trying to spot those three days of winter, sigh. Where are my sandals? In truth I never put them away and was wearing them in January! Let me make my list again of why I like living in Morocco… In truth I have thought of moving on in the past few months, but every time I give it serious consideration either my landlord or someone at the gym/salon does something that makes staying very attractive. And I either have been here too long or I must stay – as I think the Moroccan sense of time has made a significant effect on my manner of functioning. When I was at reception at Dessange making an appointment, I was informed, “You can come in at nine, or ten..?”

My response was one of shock that anyone would expect me to rise early enough to make a nine o’clock appointment! THIS from the Queen of Punctuality, the “I’m a day person” of legend! I said, “Oh I think eleven is quite early enough thank you,” and received a look of understanding and approval! Not only that, but I actually did not fret over making it early (my normal wont) to an appointment last week, so as to prevent being at all late! Oh dear…

And speaking of Valentine’s Day, here’s some dinner conversation for you: What makes champagne fizz?
It’s not carbon dioxide, it’s dirt.
In a perfectly smooth, clean glass, carbon dioxide molecules would evaporate invisibly, so for a long time it was assumed that it was slight imperfections in the glass that enabled the bubbles to form.

However, now photographic techniques have shown that these nicks and grooves are much too small for bubbles to latch on to: it’s the microscopic particles of dust and bits of fluff in the glass that enable them to form.

*Technically speaking, the dirt/dust/lint in the glass act as condensation nuclei for the dissolved carbon dioxide.

According to Moet et Chandon, there are 250 million bubbles in the average bottle of champagne.

Chekhov’s last words were, “I haven’t had champagne for a long time.” And John Maynard Keynes said, “My only regret in life is that I did not drink more champagne.”

German medical etiquette of the time demanded that when there was no hope, the doctor would offer the patient a glass of champagne. Now that’s my idea of good bedside manner.

And yes you incurable romantics out there, you know who you are, there is very likely a Valentine’s Day story on the horizon…

Ciao.

*”Book of General Ignorance” by Lloyd and Mitchinson