Friday Fabulosity

It has occurred to me recently that I am forgetting how to be fabulous.  Recently I was in Dar, and encountered a nice coffee shop, catering to Europeans, in a shopping center which had an escalator, and realized suddenly that I was dirty.  It was, perhaps, understandable, given that I had been gallivanting about Dar, in all its glory of heat, sweaty cramped buses, leaking sewers, and dust.  Nor had I actually showered the day before, because I was out late and the people I was sharing a guesthouse room were already sleeping when I got in, and so I did not avail myself of an admittedly quite nice hot shower that doesn't even administer electric shocks when one touches the faucets.  Normally, a superfluity of dirt and sweat does not faze me in this country, it seems rather an inevitable condition, and if I fail to bathe for days on end I start getting compliments on the shininess of my hair.  I gave up worrying about the state of my clothes even before that of my person.  However, when I walked into a nice European style coffee house inhabited by clean Europeans, I felt distinctly uncomfortable and dirty.  This is the sort of place that, in the states, I might have swept grandly into on my way to the opera, freshly bathed and dressed to the nines, and languidly ordered "something fabulous"* and now I just feel out of place.  So now that I have a fast internet, and neither money nor teaching for one more week, I am spending time on the web finding delightfully fabulous and decadent things, and I present to you, Delilah Jones, the High Flying Floozy.

*Baristas get used to me.