Lazy "Lebanese" Ladies

I remember reading somewhere that the year 2010 would witness “the rise of the female entrepreneur”, and many of my friends and acquaintances have indeed lived up to that claim and proved to those around them that you do not need to have a penis in order to be hardworking and independent. This made me take a glance at where I stood in this: after graduating 3 years ago, I jumped right into the employment scene; slaving away 12 hours a day, 5 days a week for over 2 years until I decided I needed a break, just to remember what the sun felt like on my skin and what oxygen felt like in my lungs.

During my break, I decided that I wanted to become an entrepreneur as well, and that is what I have oh so slowly been working on for the past few months. Whenever I am in doubt or hesitant, I force myself to remember when I was jealous of all those unemployed girls I know that could go to the beach any time they wanted, travel randomly when their hearts desired, and stay up every night till the break of dawn until I became one of them and realized that it is not a privilege, but a curse; because laziness inevitably brings one thing: more laziness (and consequently, uselessness).

I also realized not many girls enjoy working . . . at all. Instead, some graduate from university and claim not to be able to find a job; and some graduate and start looking for the next best thing: a “rich” husband. They believe that it is only a man’s job to make money and build a career.

Me: “Why aren’t you working?”

Useless Post-Grad: “Oh I haven’t found anything yet.”

Me: “How long have you been searching?”

Useless Post-Grad: “I’m not (because I am a coward who is terrified of failure).”

Me: “Oh . . . OK (loser), how come?”

Useless Post-Grad: “I have a severe case of Post-Graduation Depression.”

Me: “You have post-what?!”

The worst part about lying is when you start believing it yourself. “Post-Graduation Depression”, Ha! I wish these hopeless cases would
stop searching for “smarter” ways to camouflage their actual problem; instead they should say “I am refusing to acknowledge that I am a lazy loser who is a waste of space and an even bigger ungrateful waste of my parents’ support, time, and money. I am also getting tired of searching for a rich man to support me financially (I need to get those new Gucci shoes or life as I know it, will end), so please God, help me win more time to come up with yet another lame excuse for why I am such a useless burden (or better yet, please find me that
rich husband, really fast!).” The saddest part is that when Ms. Useless Post-Grad was still in university, she bragged to everyone about how she will become a big shot when she graduates. Aah . . . she talks the talk but can’t walk the walk, tsk tsk.

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http://www.beirutnightlife.com/lifestyle/cultural/la-wlooo-lazy-lebanese-ladies

I am now writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!", which is a new section on BeirutNightLife.com that provides a light mockery of the silly things happening around us every day.
Don't take it seriously, after all, it is simply a breath of fresh air – stating the obvious with a bit of humor and a change of perspective.

The Peter Pan Syndrome

Ever since I started maturing into the young lady that I am (the Duchess of York), I’ve heard peasant-like talk as such, “Hurry; find a man before your train leaves the station at 28 – women age before men.” “Your market is high now. After 28, men will lose their interest in you and go for younger women.” (Yeah, younger women who are still in their mothers’ wombs)

I tend to feel like women are a piece of art; observed (for long hours), studied, critiqued, sometimes appreciated, and many times not understood. A piece of art is still an object though, and I am sure that many women out there are tired of feeling like objects, cut us some slack, please!

I would like to change the perspective a little on this matter, and discuss the “train leaving a man’s station” – post 33 (since men age so gracefully, and mature so . . . so slowly).

I have a few male friends (post-33) who are good looking, have great personalities, with proper backgrounds, fine jobs, and are still unmarried. Their lifestyles consist of hitting the bars and clubs several nights a week, engaging in one night stands, and driving fast cars (a. to boost their childish egos, and b. to pick up Ms. One-Night-Stand #623). As a result, they are almost always tired for work, they are almost never taken seriously, and they simply cannot act their age.

Face it guys, if you’re a few years away from 40, it is not sexy at all to be out getting drunk every night with 20 year old bimbos who can’t spell the word “pedophile”.

It is not cool that you’re getting your first grey hairs and are still waking up with a hangover (when that happens again, please look at your reflection in the mirror – your starting-to-wrinkle face, your puffy eyes – and apprehend how pathetic you look).

It is not cool that all your entourage is at least 7 years younger than you because all friends your age have families, careers, and lifestyles that fit their maturity level.

As if all that weren’t bad enough, most of these guys are still living with their parents. How is that even logical? And can you fathom the idea that Mr. Mid-Life will bed Ms. One-Night-Stand, while his parents listen in horror in the next room? Ooh . . . Sexy!

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/news/la-wlooo-the-peter-pan-syndrome/

I am now writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!", which is a new section on BeirutNightLife.com that provides a light mockery of the silly things happening around us every day.
Don't take it seriously, after all, it is simply a breath of fresh air – stating the obvious with a bit of humor and a change of perspective.

The Bridezilla Syndrome

As the summer season reaches its peak, one thing that tops everyone’s list is weddings. I don’t know about you guys, but I find myself invited to several marriage ceremonies that constitute of the same cliché.

Since high school, I have met, known, and befriended too many pathetic girls who don’t know the first thing about being funny, looking good, or getting a guy’s attention. Oddly enough, these young ladies in particular usually seem to be the first that get married. Knowing how unpromising they are (by most people’s standards), all that matters to them is digging their claws into the first naive guy that gives them the time of day. In other words, Bridezilla meets her victim at a perversely young age and remains with him in a “dedicated, committed, long-term relationship” until he is either financially or psychologically capable of tying the knot as planned by her mother, grandmother, and any remaining living ancestors) while her boyfriend proudly boasts to his friends that he is lucky to have found a virgin who he can mold into the lady of his dreams (well, DUH, she’s 16 . . . pedophilia much?).

Now although Bridezilla has been an ass-kisser since the ice age, the minute her wedding date is set, she suddenly becomes the Queen B whose marriage is the event of the season that only the crème de la crème are allowed to attend (of course, being tightfisted is always the reason for why X, Y, and Z are not invited to the La Classe wedding). Bridezilla will also become the love guru du monde who never stops giving relationship advice to friends, enemies, siblings, trees, and furniture. She will say annoying phrases like “3a’belik . . . inshallah nefrah mennik. Yalla, sheddé hemtik.” (Yuck, yuck, YUCK!). My answer is always “metel ma allah bi reed. . . merci”, but what I really want to say is, “sorry but I actually have a life, value my career, and have parents who are willing to support my lazy ineligible self for as long as I want”. God forbid you are still unmarried after 25 (or OH NO, after 28?!), you will be pitied, judged, and expected to have a justification for still being single at such an age; like having male genitals or a fatal, contagious illness. In any case, Bridezilla will always give a condescending smile before she walks away to harass yet another person who couldn’t care less.

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/news/la-wlooo-the-bridezilla-syndrome/

I am now writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!", which is a new section on BeirutNightLife.com that provides a light mockery of the silly things happening around us every day.
Don't take it seriously, after all, it is simply a breath of fresh air – stating the obvious with a bit of humor and a change of perspective.

The Lebanese (Lira) Love Affair

When the typical Macho Man and Bimbo Barbie hit it off, we can safely assume that they’ll be married by the summer that follows. As pessimistic as I am, marriage is sacred to me – I am ready to die alone unless I marry “The One”.

In Lebanon, many women share similar beliefs – the average Bimbo Barbie is a gold digger that is searching for “The RICH One”. It doesn’t matter if he’s educated, cultured, or well traveled. His background, family, and history don’t matter either. All that matters is what’s parked in his garage, resting in his pocket, and sleeping in his bank account. Instead of asking questions like “Where did you go to school?” and “What do you do for a living?” she asks questions like “What car do you drive?” and “How much money do you make?”

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/news/la-wlooo-the-lebanese-lira-love-affair/

I am now writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!", which is a new section on BeirutNightLife.com that provides a light mockery of the silly things happening around us every day.
Don't take it seriously, after all, it is simply a breath of fresh air – stating the obvious with a bit of humor and a change of perspective.