Memoirs of a Fat Girl

I had the craziest dream last night. I was living with Raj and James, and they broke the john. Yeah, you got that right. In my dream I went to the bathroom only to find that James had seriously clogged the toilet and Raj, not knowing how to plunge, had stuffed a trunkload's worth of towels into the bowl.

My sister always tells me I have the most whacked out dreams, but I have this insane little notion it's a sign of things to come. In Jordan, I will be sharing an apartment with James. I adore the guy, but he's not exactly the neatest person on earth. And Raj, my powdery little princess, ain't all that adept at... repairs. I don't expect to have massive plumbing problems in the Middle East (hope it stays that way), but then what if something out of the ordinary happens and Raj, trying to fix it, just makes things worse?

Okay, plain English. Raj's parents don't know he's gay and he doesn't want them to know, but he does want his family to meet his fiancee. Even under disguises, which is the whole purpose of this trip. I am the token female that in their eyes, one of the boys is bound to end up with.

SURPRISE! I'm fucked! And being a total travel bug I am actually willing to put myself in line of fire to go where no one has gone before! Okay, where I've never gone before, that "no one" thing just sounded good.

Two tension filled vacation weeks in a desert city trying to convince a muslim family that they are not looking at a pair of queens, and that I find them sexually appealing. I smell a challenge.