Mmmm, chocolate.
Apropos of nothing, the Nefertari range of Lush-style hand-made cosmetics that we have here in Egypt is, whilst horribly expensive and fairly limited, bloody lovely. I've got the MOST magnificently decadent vanilla body cream... words really don't begin to do justice. It's pornographic in its lusciousness. And the orange and vanilla body splash makes me smell like Terry's Chocolate Orange...
Ahem.
t /easily distracted.
Say, vw, is it too late for me to contribute to your research?
(still giggling at Erika's evocation of the UK laying-on-of-hands.)
I went to a church service at Maadi Community Church on Friday, because my friend was one of the Worship team, singing on stage and leading the congregation. Words do not begin to encompass how very odd and alien I found the whole experience. In the world of me, church attendance (which I recall dimly from my childhood membership of the Brownies) consisted of singing hymns and listening politely to some chap ramble on about being nice to one's neighbours, etc. This was all so very... American. It was happy clappy Praise Jesus kind of church-going, and while I know that this stuff happens in Britain too (my flatmate considers herself a Christian, and when she was in the UK she used to attend a happy clappy church. Which, to me, is sort of akin to finding out that someone's a Furry in terms of WTF-ness. Sorry, I know that may sound offensive - keep in mind that I'm closer to the Furry end of the spectrum than the church going end of the spectrum, what with the GVSP and all that wacky goodness) it still just felt very, very weird. And rather threatening - they have cell groups for intense worship and bible study, and they have an insidiously evangelical thing going on, where they're pretending to like people and finding common ground by inviting them over to secular events like fancy dinners or movie evenings, but secretly they have an agenda of trying to make these people see the light and love Jesus.
This rather did my head in - I was on board for all the song-singing, and the doing-good-deeds-without-any-agenda, and the loving God, but I really, really don't subscribe to Trinitarian doctrine one little bit. Which made the service a very mixed bag for me. Must have been even odder for my friend N, though, who's a devout Muslim New Yorker of Egyptian extraction (and a real Bitch at heart, bless her - I hope she finishes her book and publishes it, because I really think that America needs a My Big Fat Greek Wedding-style insight into the normalness of Muslim American life, narrated in engaging Sex-In-The-City style, by a roguishly charming and whip-smart Good Girl who appreciates the hell out of a pretty blue-eyed guy and has a heart as big as the Sahara.
Er. I did have a point somewhere, but I seem to have lost it. Er. Anyway, Britain=Pretty Damn Secular, in my experience, and this whole Church-going thing was pretty close to being as much of a Walk on the Wild Side as any trip to a mosque would have been.