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Friday, December 17, 2010

Bronzed Poop and the Courtesy Flush

Never I have felt more that men really are from Mars than a few nights ago when having drinks with Mr B and Beardy McSnow. Seated in between the two, I was caught in the crossfire of the most bizarre conversation. I was just sitting there, enjoying my drink, thinking I was part of the conversation when Mr B looks over to Beardy and they start sputtering about something incomprehensive and burst into fits of laughter. All I caught were the words 'Suri's dispatch.' Confused yet? Well, join the club!

I felt like I was at a tennis match, bobbing my head from left to right trying to figure out what the two guys were talking about and why it was so bloody hilarious. So, logically, I asked, "What on earth are you guys talking about?"
"What we're going to name our yachts," replied Mr B.

Yachts?? Yes, this is what men discuss when they are alone together. It was a conversation that they had started earlier in the day and decided to finish at the pub later that night with a few beers in the mix. Lucky me.

"Oh ok. Well, what would call your boat?" I asked Beardy, trying to participate, although not really all that interested.
"Suri's Dispatch," he said, Mr B laughing even more. I stared at him blankly, totally not getting the joke. Then came the enlightening explanation.
"You know Suri ... Tom Cruise's kid," explained Beardy.
"Yeah, okay," I said, "but why dispatch?"

All right, hold on to your seats, because here is the story: Apparently, a few months after Suri Cruise was born like four or five years ago, according to Beardy, the Cruises bronzed her first poop and auctioned it off on eBay. So enraged by this, Beardy can't let go of it to this day. "Uh, I don't think that's true Beardy," I said. "No, no it's true, Google it," he assured me.

Okay then, moving on ... I turned to Mr B. "And what, pray tell, would you call your yacht."
"Courtesy flush," he responded without hesitation, further eliciting laughter from Beardy. Now this did not need explanation. Mr B, you see, is kind of obsessed with the toilet behavior of your average Joe. He thinks the world would be a better place if more people flushed immediately after delivery and contact. Apparently, this is a huge problem in guy world.

Not that anyone asked me, but if I were to name my yacht I would call it Men are from Mars and Women are NORMAL!

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Morning Glory … Not!

This blog entry is actually from my latest column in Sayidaty Magazine (English version, on sale now!) and my editor suggested I post it on my blog as well. So here it goes ...

There are some annoying people on this planet who love the mornings and for some mysterious reason it’s their favorite time of day. They look forward to the peaceful quiet, which is only made more enjoyable by a simple cup of coffee. Bah … humbug! I am obviously not one of those people and am so not a morning person. In fact, it’s safe to say that I pretty much hate the early morning. I hate the quiet on the streets (because all the smart people are still in bed); I hate the barely there sunshine (even the sun is still asleep); I hate the fact that I have to wait at least five hours until lunch. It’s all so depressing that not even a delicious cup of java can brighten up the prospect of having to rise before 9am.

My opinions on the morning, however, prompted my illustrious editor, Tarek Hijazi, to send me this terrifying message: “Here’s a challenge your readers are going to love, Anissa. Starting tomorrow, set your alarm clock for 6.30am. Pretend a snooze button is something that only exists in fairy tales with flying unicorns. Wake up. Have coffee (otherwise it would automatically render your attempt useless). The effect is almost effective immediately. You’ll be channeling your inner morning person in no time. Guaranteed.”

At the sight of ‘6.30am,’ my face blanched in horror. What am I, a rooster? I only wake up at the crack of dawn to catch a flight. Period. Thinking it must certainly be a joke, I ignored the challenge. Then I got the phone call, and the conversation went a little something like this:

Tarek: Hey, what do you think about taking on my challenge?
Me, laughing: I honestly didn’t think you were serious.
Tarek: No, no, I’m serious. Try it for a week.
Me: Are you mad? No way!
Tarek: Okay, five days.
Me: No!
Tarek: Okay two days.
Me: No!
Tarek: Okay, one day. Just get up at 6.30am one day.
Me, panicking: But that’s the middle of the night!

Tarek was convinced that a yummy caffeine jolt would transform me into a morning person; I was sure it would not. Anyway, despite my qualms, I agreed to give it a shot. True to my word, that night I set my alarm to precisely 6.30am and made a mental note to not hit the snooze button. I even went to bed early at 11pm. Later, feeling as if I had shut my eyes for only a minute, I heard the loud blare of my alarm. Still practically asleep, I automatically hit snooze without even thinking (sorry, Tarek, but whose brain is switched on at 6.30am?). I told myself, okay, I’ll get up once the snooze alarm goes off, giving me a precious extra 10 minutes of sleep (what Tarek doesn’t know, won’t hurt him). The next thing I know, the construction site across the street comes alive and I wake up from the noise. I looked at the clock and it was 7.10am, 40 minutes off schedule!

Still half asleep, I decided to get out of bed anyway and go through with the challenge. I made my coffee, and since it was way too early for my brain to function, I decided to sit in bed and watch some morning talk shows. I finished my coffee and the next thing you know, I’m dozing off … again. Yes, I re-fell asleep and this time I didn’t get up until 10.30am. What a disaster!

I think it’s safe to say that I failed the challenge and not even coffee could turn me. Hello, my name is Anissa and I am, and forever will be, a non-morning person. So if any of you happen to catch me out and about so early in the day, be sure that I will be a) on my way to the airport; b) sleepwalking; or c) possessed by an alien.