Rain, Rain, Go Away!

My Friday started with an 11 am rendezvous at my manicurist’s, who was having a semi-stroke because her car was at the wash and there were chances of rain. This automatically put every girl present into panic mode: “If it rains, what shoes will I wear tonight?”, “Should I wear a light jacket?”, “Should I even bother going to the hair salon?”, “Should I commit suicide because the world is coming to an end?” I sat there feeling very left out because I couldn’t remember the last time I washed my car, and I virtually never get my hair coiffed to go out; I was actually looking forward to the rain, and I definitely think it’s something to look forward to after that sizzling hot summer (one can only sweat so much!).

Surely enough, it rained . . . and rained . . . and rained till all hell broke loose. To all you readers who do not reside in Lebanon, I would like to assure you that it was nothing close to a tsunami (or even a small storm); it was a couple of hours of gentle rain with a little bit of thunder, and the result was as follows:

As soon as I stepped into my car, and after leaving skid marks all over the streets of Jounieh, I was reminded that my wheels needed changing. The dust on my windshield mixed with the rain, resulted in a muddy mixture of crap that my wipers couldn’t get rid of (this was the universe punishing me for not washing my car for the past 2 months). Roads were blocked with traffic – I am guessing that every other Lebanese citizen must have also realized that their wheels needed changing (either that or they simply enjoy panicking and driving at 20 kmph for no reason at all). Who knows, maybe it’s a Lebanese ritual to drive like a 90 year old corpse at the first glimpse of a rain drop. Roads were also suddenly polluted with garbage . . . where the heck did it all come from? Water is supposed to wash away dirt, not make it more visible!

I reached my home dripping with water, but still feeling thankful that the months of scorching heat are finally over. Since our water heater at home runs on solar energy, and since the sun was non-existent today, I was forced to shower in cold water. It then took me almost 2 hours to finish blow drying my hair because the electricity went nuts – I guess “Electricité du Liban” (a.k.a. Sons du Bi***es) believes that a harmless rain shower is good enough reason to repeatedly cut out the power supply from every home over the duration of 4 hours until every Lebanese citizen has officially gone mad.

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/lifestyle/cultural/la-wlooo-rain-rain-go-away/

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.

PMS: Beauty & The Beast

As if being a woman weren’t hard enough, we had to be “cursed” with “that time of the month” as well. And as if men didn’t complain about us enough, they have an extra reason to do that every month for the rest of our lives (or until menopause at least) – and by then we’d all be too old to bother talking, let alone arguing.
Since “rivalry” and confusion between men and women has existed long before the invention of the cheese sandwich, I decided to clarify (in my opinion) why women are monsters during the wonderful days of PMS (Pre-menstrual syndrome).

As much as women like to complain about it, I think that deep down we are all thankful for having a few days a month where we have a good excuse to behave as we please; and we can be as mean, angry, annoyed, and fussy as we want. A lady must act like a lady at all times (I try to keep it at a good 50-50, for my sanity’s sake); it’s hard work – especially when we watch men walk around topless, scratch their balls, spit in public, pee at the side of the road, burp, fart, smell bad, etc. And all though that type of behavior is absolutely disgusting (even for men), they are allowed to do it – for them, it’s justified. Although it will never be acceptable for women to act that way, and although we don’t care to act that way either, that type of liberation does create some feelings of envy in us. So when PMS-ing, we can complain from dusk till dawn, and although those around us may be contemplating how to kill us, they can’t do anything about it since our behavior is justified – it’s a privilege (and a curse) that can’t be taken away from us.

I have heard time and time again about how Ms. PMS is late, is cranky, has cramps, has cravings, is in pain, is tired, and wishes to stab her boyfriend or husband 5 times in the face (why? why not!). For the remainder of the month, she absolutely adores her man – the simple thought of him makes her smile; but during this time, his face represents all that is ugly and awful in the world. His voice makes her heart beat faster (and I don’t mean that in a good or romantic way), his actions (whether romantic gestures or routine behavior) make her want to cry with misery (or turn into King Kong and climb a building). Why? I believe it’s the price men have to pay (just for being men).

No matter how great you are as a man, stay away from a PMS-ing woman; or if you insist on being around her, simply ignore the beast and everything she says and/or does for that duration (although I must warn you – that will piss her off even more). How can you win in this situation? You can’t.

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/lifestyle/cultural/la-wlooo-pms-beauty-the-beast/

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.

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.

To continue reading, please follow this link:

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.

Broken-Hearted Girls

Following last week’s “Broken-Hearted Boys”, here’s a little heartbreak insight for the ladies. I will only mention the top two scenarios I hear about the most (and wish to never hear about, ever again).

Scenario Number 1: The Slithery Slimy Rico Suave
You meet your “Prince Charming” – he is Mr. Perfect; the handsome (vain), sweet-talking (lying), charismatic (patiently awaiting sex), suave (sly), mysterious man you’ve always dreamed of (the reason he’s so mysterious is because he’s a liar – wake up women).  A few weeks into it, while you’re telling your friends he’s your boyfriend, he’s telling his friends you’re his “friend” (with a wink); and while you’re falling for the reptile, he’s busy finding a way out.

What he said: Absolutely nothing.

(Translation: He stopped answering your calls and started ignoring you because, a) he doesn’t care, or b) he’s a disrespectful and cowardly swine.)
What he meant: “Please don’t call me. Forget about me. I don’t like or want you anymore and I assume that by not calling you, you’ll understand and never bother me again.”

Your question is: “Oh my GOD! What happened? I need to know! Why did he leave? I need my closure or I can’t move on! Nag! Nag! Nag!”  (Seriously?)

Your question should be: “Why am I still sulking over a man-whore who dumped me in such a disrespectful way? He doesn’t respect me, but don’t I respect myself?”

The verdict: He wanted to have fun with you, either to forget an ex-girl friend or simply because he’s “just not ready for a relationship” (i.e. he is, but not with you). When he realized that you are so stupidly in love with him, he felt choked and decided to run away like the mouse that he is. There are two scenarios:
a) He wanted to have sex, you didn’t, so he left to find someone else to answer to his needs.
b) He wanted to have sex, you gave him what he wanted (quicker than you could say “Hi, How are you?”) so he got bored (no more “thrill of the chase”) and left.

Whatever the reason, it would have never worked out because he wasn’t in a relationship mindset. Forget about him; don’t call or stalk him – it’s called preserving your dignity!

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/lifestyle/cultural/la-wlooo-broken-hearted-girls/

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.

Broken-Hearted Boys

As summer is reaching its end, and goodbyes are inevitable, I realized that many couples I know are breaking up as well. Could it be seasonal bipolarity? Or a trend perhaps (let’s all get tattoos, get married, cry, break up, be gay)? Regardless of the reason, I am tired of seeing tears and hearing the following question, “WHY?!”

I know I’m not Dr. Phil or Oprah, but there are some very logical answers as to why you got dumped!
This week, it’s for the boys (and I am going to be very immature about this). I’m going to narrow it down to the three scenarios I’ve heard about the most.

Scenario Number 1: The Bollywood Indian Drama Queen
You are in a committed relationship; everything is fine (apparently). Suddenly, your sweetheart starts to act a bit emo (moodiness, blasts from the past, pathetic Hollywood movie behavior and speeches), she seems distant (comatose perhaps), she starts coming up with the silliest excuses to see you less, then boom – it’s over.

What she said: “I still love you but things seem to have changed. I am confused. I need some space. I need to discover who I really am and what I really want. I need to expand my horizons. I will always love you though. I just need some time. Blah.”
Her exit speech is the longest most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard, but you’re too hurt and shocked to process it properly.

What she meant: “I don’t love you anymore; I have feelings for someone else. I am suffocating with you. I want to go out, meet guys, go crazy, have sex, and live my life – but I want you to love me and wait for me forever like a gay loser (because I am a selfish b****).”

Your question is: “Why? Why oh why did she leave? If she still loves me, then whyyyyyy?”

Your question should be: “Why? Why oh why am I such a moron? When oh when will I become a man and move on with my life and show that b**** what she lost?”

The verdict: Instead of sulking and being supportive of her decision (like a faggot), tell her to stop yapping (because she is taking you for a fool). Tell her she lost you and your respect. Tell her to get the hell out of your face. Once you do this, you can regain some of the respect you’ve lost (because the girl is going to gossip about the break up to her friends, family, concierge, gardener, teddy bears, and toilet bowl), so at least now she can leave out the part of “Haram, he is so upset, I feel so bad for him.” Kick start your life again and forget about her.

Scenario Number 2: The Victimizing Victim
You are in a fresh relationship, and everything is going great. After a few dates, she changes completely. The sweet angel turns into Cruella de Vil; she is loud, rude, bossy, selfish, and horrifies/hates your friends. She seems to only be interested in the material aspect of the relationship, and when that is not provided, she grows distant and mysterious (or should I say, dishonest). When you complain to her that you are not her doormat, she spins the story around and blames you (or anyone or anything).

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/lifestyle/cultural/la-wloo-broken-hearted-boys/

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.

We're All Mad Here

Since I can’t come up with one topic to complain about this week, I decided to whine about several things “a la libanaise” that I just can’t understand. Here’s some food for thought:

1. Why is it that the moment someone phones you, their first question is “Wainak? Shou 3am ta3mol?” Is there no limit to nosiness? Whatever happened to privacy (I guess that died long ago with the creation of the Facebook and the blackberry)? What happened to “hi, how are you?” (And no I don’t mean “hi kifak ca va?”)

2. Why doesn’t anyone use their car turn signal blinkers? When my turn signals are blinking, I look at my rear view mirror and all I see are cars stampeding to over-take me (I think the blinking lights excite their infantile brain cells). I also constantly find myself driving peacefully when all of a sudden, the car in front of me makes a turn (without turn signals). Naturally, I honk angrily at the driver, only to receive the middle finger gesture and the typical insult: “inteyé”.

3. What is up with stupid English grammar mistakes? OH MY GOD! It must be one of my worst pet peeves ever.

• You are a Looser: WRONG! Loser is the opposite of winner. Looser is the opposite of tighter.
• You are so sweat: WRONG! Sweat is perspiration. Sweet is the opposite of bitter.
• Thx you: WRONG! Thx is the abbreviation for Thanks. You simple cannot say “Thanks you”, ladies and gentlemen.
• You are an angle: WRONG! Angle is a point of view or part of a triangle. Angel is that flying white-winged person.

(I once received a love letter that said “You are a sweat angle.” All I could think of was body odors and perpendicular triangles – what a turn off!)

4. What’s up with the horrifying elderly people? Aren’t they supposed to be sweet and full of wisdom? Instead, they are bitter and full of odors. They release gas (loudly) out of every available opening in their body, publicly, and do not care if they are stinking up the room. They are loud, obnoxious, and rude; they drive horribly, push and shove people (aren’t they supposed to be weak and fragile?), and they constantly remind me of how our generation is a failure compared to theirs because they made their money from scratch, fought in the war(s), and had 57 children (Be gone dinosaur!)

5. What do people like in “tish tik tah tah” music? I don’t get it! I see people driving around with their windows down, blasting their Arabic music and dancing to it. Yes, there are some old Arabic songs that are mesmerizing, but nowadays, the lyrics are either completely meaningless, or too corny, or absolutely miserable (backed by horrible melodies and vocals)! I think it is an excuse for girls to pop their cleavage out and shake their stuff like belly dancers who are high on caffeine. Is that supposed to be sexy?

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/news/la-wlooo-were-all-mad-here/

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.

Dates From Hell Part III: The Shakespearean Alien‏

The third and final installment for “Dates From Hell” is by yet another one of my dear girl friends. This one is more like “The Relationship from Hell” (or from outer space), but it is also sadly true. I hope you enjoy this true horror story.

 The Shakespearean Alien

When Dr. Jekyll (the jack ass) met Fifi, there were no sparks; there were no rainbows (or fireworks or music or butterflies or anything) – there was a suicide threat. Let me explain, when Dr. Jekyll asked Fifi out on a date, Fifi refused, so Dr. Jekyll sent her a suicide message that went something like this:

My dearest Fifi,
From the moment I met you (24 hours ago), something changed in my heart, body, and soul. You have changed my life. My very existence depends on yours. In other words, if you do not want to exist in my life, I do not want to exist at all.
Yours truly,
Dr. Jekyll

Fifi was quite freaked out, but being the good-hearted (naive) person that she is, she agreed to go out on a date with him so that he refrains from committing suicide.

After their first (boring to death) date, Fifi decided that she will not go on date number 2 – she thanked Dr. Jekyll and explained to him that she does not want to date anyone at the moment.
Dr. Jekyll responded with yet another suicidal, pity-inducing message:

Dear Fifi,
How could you be so cruel? I have lost my will to live. I have succumbed to starvation as I sleep alone in the garage of my village home. I have come across photos and objects that reminded me of my childhood (huh?!). I would like to share them with you. I would like to rest my head on your lap and weep (yes folks, the dude said “weep”). It is now evident that this will never be possible so I bid you farewell as I will be leaving this world soon (yeah return to your planet you freak of nature).
Best Regards, 

Dr. Jekyll

Once again, Fifi the fool felt guilty and could not allow Dr. Jekyll to hurt himself and that is how their boring, longer than life relationship began (and never seemed to end). Fifi, who was known as the life of the party, became the most boring person on earth (to better suit Dr. Jekyll). She slowly lost all her friends, and this nourished the beast within Dr. Jekyll, preparing him to transform into Mr. Hyde.

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/news/la-wlooo/

 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.