It was horrible watching Sonja demean the villas by insinuating that her luggage was not safe. And I am glad I am not one of the minor branches of European royalty that ever hosted her only to find out she had her luggage stolen from my home. That whole spiel about her and Ramona ‘relaxing in the car’ was pathetic and transparent – they just wanted to go off to a hotel nearby and didn’t want anyone with them. Sonja seems increasingly desperate and sad to me. I bet she wishes she could hire a Moroccan stud to ‘do’ her, fast and nasty.
Ramona acts as if she’s never left the US. I actually ‘get’ the insistence on the ‘little comforts’ – this villa isn’t the Holiday Inn. They are charging big bucks for all that space and luxury, and she was asked if she had any special requests. Remember, Brad Pitt stayed there so they’re used to looking after stars, real and self-designated. She deals in unwanted unsold clothes for a living so I guess she figures herself an expert on what (won’t) look good, and therefore qualified to tell an artist how to do his work.
LaContessa was actually quite restrained given how she went after Ramona last week. Honestly I wouldn’t want to host these demanding spoilt ladies at anything (except Alex) so I can’t imagine the stress she’s under. But I do agree with the above – she’s supposedly the old Maghrebi hand so she should have explained things better, especially to the silly tramp Sonja. Oh, and on her blog she spelled/transliterated it wrong. It’s “Ya Habibi” not “ya ha bi bi.” Ya signals the vocative case, when you’re addressing somebody. You cans ort of translate it as “O” as in “O mother” or “O Land of Hope and Glory.” “Habib” means love, friend, and the -i makes it ‘my’ friend. “Ya Habibi” means “O, friend.” Personally I thought it was a bit forward, but I haven’t heard back from any of my Arabic speaking friends.
Alex was nice, but I think she’s at the end of her rope with some of the others’ stupidity and childishness. With her, I’d go on holiday. Did you hear her call Simon “beautiful boy” though – is she channeling the more purple of Oscar Wilde’s prose?
Cindy’s a P.I.T.A. Can’t she ever laugh? Or is she so conscious of her outsider status (she lives <gasp> downtown, a full <horrors> 35 minutes south of the silly tramp’s allegedly filthy townhouse) and insecure that she simply can’t let anything go. Yes, the silly tramp’s story wasn’t funny, and yes, they have a pecky history of the silly tramp putting her down, but…
Jill, Jill, Jill, whatever will we do with Jill? She came back from the land of Oz promising to be a changed, drama-free lady but that lasted what, ten seconds? Fifteen (being generous)? She’s such an instigator but her attempts to have somebody else take the fall for her outrageous snide digs are not always crowned with success. On the other hand, Brad shouldn’t have lied about living in a B&B (no shame in it) when his house is in Tangiers supposedly (or somewhere else where dark beautiful boys are available for a wink and a few dollars…I guess he likes ’em swarthy or he’d be in Bangkok instead, waving fifty baht notes around).
And dearest Jill – the Arabs didn’t hear wrong when they say “As-salaam alaykum.” It’s not a mistaken version of “Shalom Aleichem” but a reminder that Hebrew and Arabic are very closely related, as close as English is to Dutch. No, clueless Countless, the Jews weren’t ‘there first.’ The Berbers were. Get your history right or stick to giving out questionable etiquette advice you only half and half-heartedly follow.
Lastly our very own kaleidoscope of contradictions Kelly. First she’s terrified of going near Ramona – now she’s looking forward to a lovely wonderful fun week with the amazing ladies. First she’s excited to experience properly the fascinating and vibrant culture of Morocco – now she’s gobbling Jelly Bellies like she’s still back in her area (where she was the most compassionate or something). First she hates negativity, can’t stand it, won’t get involved in it, is way above it, in a way Bethenny can only dream of being – now she’s slamming the silly tramp’s pad. Yes she had a sensible point – the silly tramp might not be able to afford the upkeep and taxes on a huge Manhattan townhouse, but AFAIK they all married money and would be on their asses quick should they not get a good lawyer on the way to divorce court. Just because her ex is paying out tons in child support doesn’t mean that Sonja’s is. In any event kind, compassionate candy-loving Kelly’s comment was mean and needless. But didn’t Jill just jump on it with glee.
Another “changed person.”
Other than that, the riad looked lovely, Moroccan food is delicious, the boys are beautiful (and flexible for a fee), and I was rather taken with the idea of putting it on my own bucket list. Brad’s party was a bit wild, and cramped, but the fortune teller was/will be juicy for next week.
Of course silly tramp had to mention semen because, you know, she’s a silly tramp.
Of course Ramona mistook being demanding for being charming, because, Ramona, right?
Of course Cindy had to be loudly and extravangly offended, doesn’t she always?
Of course Jill had to backstab everyone, I mean it’s her shtick.
Of course Kelly had to be eating because baklava’s like grown-ups’ candy, y’know?
Of course LaContessa had to launch into various “mannerly” put downs, what else?
Of course Alex had to pretend she wasn’t there, was in her happy place, dancing in cool Marrakech salons with Simon, the candlelight glinting off his many sequins, his silken caftan swirling around and around in a multi-coloured fluffy froth, not with this pack of hissing puff adders, stalking and coiling and striking at each other….
Oh, yeah: Hot guy, because, you know, it’s my blog after all! 🙂