I still don't know the name of my favorite shape

I should have known that the words "Helen" and "Party" when even approaching the same sentence would bring comments from my dad. I believe references to "Fraternity/Animal House party" and "What does Lars think of all your comments about dancing Egyptian men" were not-so-discreetly inserted into last night's conversation, but I'm getting him back now : ) As if I could even dignify those charges with a particularized response! : )

I keep trying to post pictures from Lebanon and my mom's visit, but the best ones are on Jayanthi's camera and the internet has been pretty shady. So instead, I'll start off with a mini-ode to variations of my favorite shape in the world. Morocco was much better for favorite-shape sightings, but Egypt does o.k. Yesterday Lise, Judith and I went to a museum that was a British man's house that he restored to it's old, old glory and left behind with his own extensive art and relic collection inside. Afterwards we headed next door to the Ibn Touloud mosque, which I believe is the oldest in Cairo, and is my favorite so far. We were nearly the only ones there in this huge expanse of yellowed stone. I fell to singing and Lise to dancing, Judith to pondering how much she looks like a Russian grandmother wearing the hijab. There is something so special and indescribable about being in a mosque, wearing the hijab, and feeling so cut off from the rest of the world and led to silence, praying, singing, or dancing. The only 'mountains' to be found in Cairo.