Designer Bags and Bombs

I think Beirut's major malls and shopping centers need to have a serious sit down with management and discuss their ridiculous secuirty policies. I'm all for checking the cars when they come into the car park, but checking our handbags at the entrance before going inside? Puhleeze. Note to head of mall security: Women are not going to bomb their designer handbags! This is Lebanon, our precious bags are more important to us than any political agenda. Trust!

My Marc is way too precious to blow up

Mind you, not every mall has some bored-out-of-his-mind geriatric secuirty guy at the entrance searching women's handbags - some management teams have been smart enough to notice that an upperclass woman with the latest Marc Jacobs draped on her arm is hardly the type to be carrying TNT. In fact, the only thing mildly explosive she'll be holding is her credit card receipts. If any mall owners are listening, please rest assured, we are there to shop, spend money and gossip over coffee with fellow designer bag toting gal pals - i.e. we are not interested in blowing anything up. Seirously, do you think we'd be dumb enough to strut into the ABC with a bomb in our bags?? Plus, all the terrible violence that has happened in this city over the past few years has been carried out by MEN and they use dingy cars and vans, not purses.

The bottom line is this: we Lebanese women (not me specifically) spend way too much money on plastic surgery, designer clothes, shoes and handbags to blow ourselves up. So, the next time you think a lady's designer handbag is a good place to hide a bomb or any other weapon, think again!

Saturday Night Loser

I know this is Beirut, the greatest party city ever, but don’t you just feel like staying in sometimes and doing nothing? It’s true that image is everything, and so staying in on a weekend is considered anything but cool here, especially come Monday, when everyone is like, 'Yiii, ma rihtee a Palais??' But, last night I just could not be bothered to get all gussied up for a night out on the town. So, when my friend called in the afternoon and was like, 'Let's go to Capitol,’ the idea of putting on heels exhausted me and I thought, nahhhh, I'll skip out on that one. Then another friend called and asked if I wanted to join them at Zinc. I pondered on that one for about a second because there was a reserved table so the heels wouldn’t be a problem, but I had just washed and styled my hair and I really didn't feel like smelling like an ashtray. So I made up some lame ass excuse (well, less lame than I just washed my hair) and opted out of that plan too.

Usually when I don't go out on a Saturday night, my sister and I rent horror movies, but yesterday she was a total traitor and went out so I was left all by my lonesome self. I had a couple of movies to watch, but both sucked big time (FYI: GI JOE was beyond ridiculous and Surrogates could induce a coma). After the movies were over, I got really bored and regretted my decision to stay in, but then I remembered my freshly washed hair and thought, no, I did the right thing not going out.

I think I reached an all time low though when I decided to watch TV a bit before turning in and while going through the channels I came across a show on the beyond dorky Jonas brothers! At first, I thought, okay, I gotta change the channel real quick, but you know how it is when you come across a car accident on the road and you can't help but look at it no matter how bad it is? Well, that’s what this show was like, and so … I watched the whole thing! I usually think nothing of staying in on a Saturday night, but when the Jonas brothers started singing about how they were in love with a pizza delivery girl and running around giant pizza props, I knew I had reached a new level of loserness.

Anyway, after that horrific lapse in coolness (a rare occasion, of course), I decided to hit the sack and thanks to the brilliant writing of Bernard Cornwell, I went to bed with a gorgeous Saxon warrior who made the hideous memories of all things Jonas disappear.

So, there it is. I was a Saturday Night Loser but at least a) my hair still smells great, b) my feet don’t hurt and c) since this is the blog that no one reads, my reputation of total and complete coolness won’t suffer any consequences!

RIP: Chivalry is Dead

What happened to the days when knights in shining armor roamed the earth on their majestic steeds?? Yeah, yeah, yeah, those days are gone, now, but is that any excuse for all chivalry to be extinct, gone, dead, finito? Why did the call for equal rights of women automatically mean that men no longer had to be gentlemen? Just because we want the same human rights with regards to say, hmmm, voting, and freedom and working does not mean we want to be men. Of course, there are exceptions to every rule, but in general, we remained ladies, while the guys sat back and said, ‘Fine, you want equal rights? We're going to bury chivalry six feet under.' And, oh boy have you guys done a good job of it!


Let's take for example my friend, Julie*. She and I started talking about guys (of course) and she told me how she went on a first date with this guy who has been pursuing her for years. In the 30+ year range, she finally relented and said yes to this guy because she thought, he’s nice and after having dated a multitude of jerks, wanted to go out with a 'gentleman', and Julie's mom was so happy that she was finally going out with a 'nice' boy. HA!

When he picked her up (of course a missed call, because the two cents spent on an actual call is so not worth it, right?), she came to the front of her building where the guy was waiting in his car. This is the first date, remember, and they are not really friends, and he did not get out of his car to greet her! I know this is the blog that no one reads, but in the event that there is at least one guy reading this, please take note, that on a first date, GET OUT OF THE CAR and say hello. How much energy could it possibly take to open the car door, step outside and greet the chick?? Added bonus (but don't hold your breath) is if he actually opens the car door for you, but that probably hasn't happened since 1963.

When you arrive to the restaurant, or wherever, it's not so tragic if the guy doesn't open the car door for you to get out, but Julie was so not impressed when the guy not only didn't wait for her to get out of the car, he sauntered into the restaurant without her as if he forgot she was even there! Dude (yes, I'm using the word dude), you're on a date - with a chick, not yourself. Always let the woman walk ahead of you and when you reach the venue, hold open the door for her (we promise it won't be too taxing on your arm muscles). Why is this seemingly insignificant stuff important, you may be asking yourselves, because it is a sign of respect, and every lady wants to feel respected. Anyway, I won't go into anymore details about that date (did he gab on his cell phone? Yes. Did he lecture her on his brilliant political analyses - i.e. put Julie in a coma? Yes. Did he ask one single question about her, her life, her interests? NO!) Okay, when the bill came, he did the typical polite thing and paid, although Julie, always the lady, did offer to pay.

(Now that we've reached that point, I have to digress just a little. Julie, like most other accomplished ladies - i.e. not a desperado gold digger – appreciates a guy who pays for dinner not because she can't afford to pay for her own meals, but because it is a matter of manners. Why?? Because one of the main positive attributes of a guy is generosity and him not picking up the bill gives the impression of stinginess and that is a HUGE turn off. Proper ladies don't expect a guy to pay for their expenses, but when on a date, a true gentleman always picks up the bill. And a true gentleman knows that this has nothing to do with money, but with the actual gesture.)

Next we come to my friend Nancy*. She recently met a guy of interest who she wanted to get to know better. He asked her out, she accepted and the date went well enough and he seemed to like her quite a bit. After the date, he said he'd like to see her again and Nancy said sure. A few days letter, she gets a message on Facebook - yes Facebook - asking why he hasn't heard from her and hinting, but not asking that he'd like to see her again, setting her up to respond that they should get together. Nancy, fed up with this laissez-faire attitude of so-called wooing did not take the bait. She responded kindly but did not reply with the expected, 'let's meet up.' What is with guys making absolutely no effort? You want to date a girl, pick up the phone and, ASK HER OUT. Do not send an SMS and do not send an email! Especially if the girl has already been out with you and/or already said she’d be open to seeing you – i.e. the whole ‘fear of rejection’ thing is not an excuse.

I know that the ratio of guys to girls is like 1 to 8 million in Lebanon right now, which is why some chicks are so ready, willing and able to put up with such behavior and do all the pursuing themselves. Now guys are so accustomed to sitting back and waiting for the chicks to make all the moves that they do nothing or at best, the bare minimum. But, little do they know that sitting out on the benches of this unrefined game are the most valuable players - classy ladies worth getting all down and dirty for. Too bad the rules of the game have changed so much that hardly anyone bothers to make the effort to discover and appreciate these MVPs.


Yes, unfortunately, chivalry is dead and most guys think that equal rights means that they get to act like Neanderthals. Maybe we should react in kind and revert back to our cavewoman days and stop plucking our eyebrows and shaving our legs! Do you think they’ll get the hint then? Yeah, probably not!



*Names have been changed for the sake of privacy