That's no maid, that's Dr. Sylvia...
I just spent the weekend in the first level of hell, aka Phoenix, Arizona. I am simply boggled that anyone chooses to live in a desert. Besides the heat (it averaged about 114), the sun was so bright that as I was carrying a casserole in to my friends house the foil covering burned my eyes. I felt like a freaking vampire for the 36 hours I was there.
You could probably tell I wasn't there to sight see, but rather spend some time with my best friend and her family as she visited her parents. Her mom was so excited she threw a big party, so all the women she knows could meet her daughter and her children.
In the best of situations I freeze up in large groups of people. So it was no surprise that given a large group of women speaking Arabic the entire time drove me into the kitchen. To keep myself busy (and to keep up with the mess) I cleaned dishes. Well apparently this made me seem like a maid, and someone asked my mom's friend how long the "servant" would be around. To which she replied, "That's no maid. She is my daughter (her catholic-single- nonArabic speaking- daughter, but nonetheless) and she's a doctor!" From that point on my friend called me Sylvia, the name of my own housekeeper. To be honest I was pleased anyone thought my cleaning was good enough to be considered professional work.
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