DIRT: the grunge diaries (𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃)

entry #144 - room a thousand years wide

‎فيزا

After the soundcheck at the venue whose name I can't pronounce because I'm not a native English speaker, my bad, the entire band plus Zakk and Barbie had a celebrative drink at the catering... and while we were indulging on some group alcoholic bonding, Barbaranne decided, out of all things, to ask me how did my modelling casting of this morning go. I told her I would've recounted her the full details of it later tonight, possibly when it'd be just the two of us, because I'm a little superstitious and very secretive about my any business ... but my secrecy policy didn't last long. Because as soon as we were finished drinking our first round of drinks, Bessie and Sean, being eachother's last brain cell for the first time ever since they've been around the other one in my presence, decided to raise a toast to my success. More like, Bessie lovingly teased Barbie, and told her that my casting went much better than hers of yesterday. Barbie, a humorous person and a good friend, baby mama of the kid I'll godmother in the future, took no offence and congratulated me. And Sean just chimed in and poured everyone a second round of tequila to celebrate my success, because he's the most supportive boyfriend in the world, and no one can take it away from him. Plot twist, everyone in this gang except Gerry now knows that I'm a rightful model, they even know that I'll be shooting an editorial tomorrow ... and not gonna lie, I don't mind it that much, even if my original plan was to keep this as secret from everyone for as long as possible. They all congratulated me and came across very sweet. Even Mike, who chimed in and made a very nice comment on how he knew I was modelling material all along. Mike was a babe, but Layne owned this. The lead singer of Alice made me laugh my ass off, when he cracked a joke on the fact that Isaac Mizrahi, the Syrian/American fashion designer y'know, will never ask me to model for any of his clothes... because he's... Mizrahi, and I'm Palestinian. And Mizrahi Jews have made themselves a worldwide fame for not getting along well with us Palestinians. Sick stuff, dark joke, true to a fault, almost painful ... but standard degree of Layne's humour, which is also mine to be frank. Needless to say, I appreciated Layne's intellectual joke, and I laughed at it more than I was supposed to, because no one but the two of us was able to understand it. Sean must've grabbed a hint or two of what it was about, because in the blink of an eye, he was back at us with a joke on how my hometown will be on Christmas celebration mode, the day I'll visit over there post appearing on a fashion magazine. Well, I'm not sure my hometown would celebrate me as a sanctity just because I'm the first girl from the whole country to ever sack a job in modelling. I mean, us Palestinians aren't superficial people, and our idea of celebrating doesn't exactly match with the one of the Western world, in the way that we don't celebrate the same things, and we don't regard the same things as achievements. We cherish the success of one of us abroad, we see it as revenge for the shameful treatment we get back home... but I don't think that a girl sacking a job in modelling would put the damn town in festive mood. Let's not forget that I come from a conservative country, not fundamentalistic, but still quite conservative in its ways, especially in regards to women and their status in society. I know many people who would hate this for me and judge me in a very bad way, because a girl born and raised Muslim should dress discreetly and become a doctor or an attorney or an engineer, not become a canvas for provocative, designer clothes ... and I just know that my mom herself will give me crap for this. But my mom gives me bullshit even the few times that I pray, betraying my own claim to be a non religious person, so her opinion doesn't count that much, in my book. She can gossip about me as much as she pleases, she can call me a disgrace in front of her narrow minded lady doctor friends, or in front of my super judgemental aunties ... I promise I won't care. I will keep going my own way, and I'll only stop the day I'll have pockets full of money, and a degree in veterinary medicine. If the latter even appeals to my mom, because she still resents me for not having enrolled in the same med school she went to when she was my age. And oh yeah, she also resents me because I'm nineteen and not pregnant nor married yet, and she was both things (plus she owned a house of her own bought solely with my dad's money, how hypocritical) at my same age. If she found out that I have accepted a modelling contract, and I've turned down two marriage contracts, one back home and one here in the US, consequential green card included, she's gonna disown me. If she finds out that I have a white boyfriend and that we fornicate, drink and take drugs in our spare time, she's gonna disown me forever and send me a box full of slippers, as a way to tell me that I gotta throw each and every one of them at myself because she quite can't, from Bethlehem to wherever in the US I may be at any given time. Ahem... anyone wanting to borrow my Arab mom? Even for just a couple days ? Slippers thrown 24/7 and toxicity included ?