Ho, Ho... Huh?

'Tis the season to be jolly, at least that's what the song says. I actually really like how everyone is so into the Christmas spirit here. I know that a lot of people get stressed over Christmas shopping, but I'm not one of them. I am an expert shopper. This year was a world record, even for me. Black Friday, laptop... BOOM! All shopping done in two hours.

You can't really online shop in Beirut. There were about two destinations where I could do my Christmas shopping: ABC Mall and downtown. I do miss the tacky decorations along Hamra Street, though, and the smell of roasted chestnuts on every corner intermingled with shawarma roasting and manakeesh baking. I don't know if they still do this, but they used to play Christmas carols through loud speakers all down the main road as people shopped or sat in cafes. It was a nice counter-balance to the constant 'toot' of car horns and people yelling out of car windows because of traffic.

Over here, we get the Tacky Christmas Light tours instead. I have to admit, they are a lot of fun. The lengths people go to to make their homes look like the North Pole threw up all over the place just to blind your retinas is really quite extraordinary. As for music, there's even an incredibly annoying festive radio station solely dedicated to playing carols (no, it does not make me roll my eyes; no, I did not just roll my eyes thinking about it). And of course, every mall in the country plays Christmas music while you shop. (Side Note: Mariah Carey must get tons of residual checks this time of year. All I want for Christmas? Stop hearing that song!!)

Because I am so thoughtful and considerate, I pick out my own gifts and send the wish lists out so others don't have to stress about what to give me. These gifts rarely work out for me though. Although I am a great in-real-life-shopper, my online shopping persona is not so effective. I look at things online and think, Ooh, this would look so cute on me. Click, item put on wish list. I put so many things on my wish list that I often forget what I picked. So, come Christmas morning, when I open up the present and see what's inside, I'm almost always like, 'Oh... this is um nice.'

This year, for example, I got red pants. I opened up the box and inside there were red pants. They made me think of Mr. B and his red pants, for which I constantly made (make, he still wears them) fun of him. I think I must've been drunk when I was picking them out because, WTF, Anissa? Red bloody pants! Never Sits Still was like, 'But you picked them'! I did a quick recover and immediately professed my love for them while trying to remember what the hell other questionable pieces of clothing I sent out as part of my disastrous wish list.

I soon found out. A pair of still-can't-determine-what-color-but-could-be-some-kind-of-beigy-grey pants with giant pockets down the middle of the thigh with huge shiny buttons. Because, you know, my thighs don't look large enough as they are, so let's add more material and bling to accentuate them even more. Tres chic. Surprise, surprise, don't remember those either, but apparently, 'They were on your wish list,' said another gift giver, who shall remain anonymous because she is awesome, and I did pick the hideous thigh enlargers, so it's totally not her fault.

Ok, so the moral of the story is Christmas is not about the gifts (yeah right, but had to put that in there to stave off hate mail or any chastising about the true meaning of the Christmas spirit, etc), and also don't do your own shopping online.

In fact, if you're in Beirut, head over to Spinneys (or any number of official resellers and pubs) and get yourself a few bottles of this instead! (Shameless plug for J2 Vodka, but it's my blog!) The best present you can give and the true 'spirit' of the holidays!

Merry Happy New Everything!


Follow me on Twitter @anissarafeh 

Why 'Homeland' Sucks

The real Hamra Street

So I was a big fan of the show 'Homeland' on Showtime last season. I was so happy that the show won like a million Emmy's because of how good I thought it was. Then I started watching season two. OMG, what a disappointment. It only took the first episode to turn me off completely. Showing Beirut as some sort of slum was not only inaccurate but just oh so wrong.

Since when does every woman on Hamra Street sport a headscarf, and an unfashionable one at that? The wardrobe of the supposed Lebanese women looked like they were bought from 1960s Bums R Us, and Yes, We Are Terrorists for the guys. And the cars… the cars! Oh my! They were pre-civil war era wrecks! As if... please, we have more Porsche Cayennes per capita than any other city on earth (or at least, it feels that way).

Okay, so the country has many, many problems. This is not paradise, and we have a lot of political instability that I will not get into. But hello, we know how to dress and don't all walk around carrying AK47s. Believe it or not, we Lebanese prefer designer handbags and fancy cars to shot guns when it comes to accessories. 

It's so disappointing that one of my favorite shows had to resort to cliched stereotypes to get ratings. Just a little bit of research, or one search on Google images, would've given them some insight into how the real Lebanon looks. But no, instead we get shots that were actually filmed in the slums of Israel passing for Beirut.

I guess having gun-weilding terrorists roaming around Hamra Street appearing as an everyday occurrence is much more sellable if Beirut looks more like a set from 'Slumdog Millionaire.' I walk down Hamra all the time, and the only upsetting thing I ran into recently was the LL500 hike in the cost of my Starbucks coffee!

It would be great if the Lebanese joined in some sort of campaign to counter the offensive portrayal of our country on this show. I know we have bigger things to worry about, but still, that doesn't mean we should stay quiet about this. Yesterday, I read an article that the Lebanese government is planning on suing the producers of 'Homeland.' The tourism minister is apparently outraged by the image of a terrorist-filled Beirut. But I'm sure he's not going to do anything about it.

I can just imagine the conversation he had about the issue:

Minister: That show 'Homeland' sucks. Let's sue them.

Aide: Are you sure you want to do something that will benefit the country without any personal benefit for yourself?

Minister: You mean I won't get anything?

Aide: No, this will purely be an act for the better of Lebanon.

Minister: Oh, forget it then.

Hey, just because our government probably won't do anything about it, that doesn't mean that we shouldn't. I sent in a complaint to Showtime, and I encourage all of you to do the same. Let's take a stand for once. Click on the link below and DO SOMETHING!

https://cbsi.secure.force.com/CBSi/submitcase?template=template_sho&referer=sho.com&cfs=default&data

My Night With Madonna

Yeah, I hung out with Madonna - no biggie. What? You mean, you never spent a night singing and dancing with a musical icon? Really? Ha ha! I am so much cooler than you. Madge and I are totally like BFFs now, seriously. Okay, so I exaggerate... a little. But I did get to hang out with her... even though she didn't know I was there!

The day started out like any other, except I wasn't in Beirut, but Dubai. Some people may confuse the two cities together, because they're both in the Middle East and they both have Arabic as their official language, but one is hot and desert like with nice shiny buildings and laws that people actually follow; the other is Beirut. I had planned on going to the Madonna concert in Abu Dhabi as soon as her MDNA tour was announced. Why she chose not to come to Beirut is beyond me! I guess she didn't read about all the amazing protest/road block parties that we throw.

Anyhoo, so it was to Dubai I went, even though I really detest rock concerts. The last one I went to was like 10 years ago when Alanis Morissette came to Beirut. It was so unorganized and I was so exhausted after waiting in the sun for hours for her to finally show up, I vowed never to attend another concert again, with four exceptions: 1. U2; 2. Aerosmith; 3. Rolling Stones; and 4. Madonna. I had been to other concerts that weren't so bad before I moved to Lebanon, like Bryan Adams (remember, this was the 90s and he was big then), Hootie and the Blowfish (again, it was the 90s), Dave Matthews and Live (which was pretty awesome). I am definitely not going to remind you of the MC Hammer concert I went to (that Vanilla Ice opened for) and I am definitely not going to reveal to you that I went to an Amy Grant concert. Oh crap.

Now back to Madonna. When I found out someone from my list was performing nearby, I had no choice but to go. It was on my list, people. I decided to brave the crowds, the heat, the waiting in line and the less than hygienic bathroom situation. I stayed with the delightful Ms Sweetie Pie and we drove from Dubai to Abu Dhabi for the concert together with two of her friends, one of whom wanted to be at the venue at 5.30pm even though the concert was supposed to start at 8pm, and we heard the night before that Her Royal Madgesty didn't show up until 10.45pm.

The morning of, Sweetie Pie and I read reviews of the concert and they were not exactly stellar. The two hour wait did not earn Madonna any Brownie points with the audience. (Maybe it had something to do with the 40 degree weather - just a hunch!!) We also read that the way the stage was designed, like a triangle, only those lucky enough to win a lottery to stand within the triangle (called the Golden Triangle) really got a good view of the show, even if you had the good tickets, which we did. So on the way there, Sweetie Pie and I were joking about who we'd choose if either of us won the lottery - only like 50 people were chosen, and they each got to bring a guest.

We met up with SP's friends and we decided that if I won, I'd choose SP and vice versa, and her two other friends would choose each other. (Yeah, we're Lebanese and yeah we worked things out without having to burn tires.) So, SP read that the lottery starts at 6.15, and on the dot, this chick comes out holding an iPad and asks people in line to press a button - you win you get a green wristband that says Golden Triangle and get to be right next to the stage. I could feel the tension in the crowd as she went from person to person. There were some pretty desperate fans in line, decked out in Madonna gear from head to toe, even the guys. It was not a good look for any of them.

When iPad lady approached me, I was totally cool and nonchalant. I was so like whatevs, I don't care, I'll press your stupid iPad button, so not a big deal, whatever, so what and... WHAT?? HOLY COW!! I FREAKIN' WON! ARE YOU KIDDING ME??!?!?! ME?? I WON? I WON. I WON!!! My cool demeanor was totally out the window. I jumped up and down squealing like a moron, as if I were on the Ellen Show and she just gave me a check for $10,000 from JC Penny... and then told me I won a new car... and then told me Michael Fassbender was in the passenger seat.

It. Was. Awesome. Madonna, you made us wait for nearly two hours, but when you finally came out, you gave one hell of a performance - you definitely still got it! So, even though you are not Michael Fassbender, you were totally worth it!

Beirut Knows How to Party

This past weekend, a group of us decided to go to a hot new club that opened up not too long ago to ring in the upcoming holidays a little bit early. We were a big group that included MadGlam (of course), Mr. Borrring + 1 (his cigar), Mr. HJNTIY (minus his 'sister') and Mr. US (nothing scandalous on him yet, except that he NEVER reads my blog). A bunch of other people were also there, but I can't be bothered to make up nicknames for everyone (whatever, it's Monday!).

The place itself is really nice - you know, tasteful decor, good service and food, and the entertainment is really cool. But the people - OH MY GOD. I seriously felt like I was at prostitute central. No, it's not like the women merely dressed like ladies of the night, they actually were ladies of the night. It's the kind of place where hookers are given out like party favors and you don't want to get caught rubbing your nose because people will automtically think you're a cokehead. The bathrooms even have ledges for easy snorting and I have allergies and a weak bladder so I can only imagine what kind of impression I made!

So scantily clad were nearly all the women there that I felt like I was Maria from The Sound of Music - sersiously, the ladies on our table were probably the only ones wearing bras and clothing that covered all our 'kibbles and bits.' There was one chick wearing gold sequined shorts with a black bustier and bustle over her rear. It was probably one of the most hideous outfits I've ever seen in real life. Mr. US still can't get over it. The funny thing is, she probably paid a fortune for it and I would be too embarrassed to give it away to Goodwill.

On the table just in front of ours, 60 year old men were fawning over 20 year old girls, who were sitting in their laps and acting about as inappropriate as you can imagine ... in a public venue ... that is supposedly not a brothel. On the table to our right, about 20 women were all over balding old farts, dancing in leapard skin outfits so trashy Courtney Love wouldn't be caught dead wearing them (okay, maybe Courtney Love). Funnily enough, they all looked remarkably similar. 'They must be sisters,' said Mr. US. 'Uh no,' I replied, 'they just have the same plastic surgeon.'

All the men, not surprisingly, were overweight, balding or bald, smoking cigars and drinking whiskey, thinking they were totally important and cool because they were with barely legal, semi-dressed, trashy women. Yes, very tasteful indeed! Well, here's a news flash: paying women to be in your company is about as impressive as being able to pee upright.

Of course, Mr. US and Mr. Borrring had a field day -'What, we're only people watching!' Uh huh, well, there certainly was a lot to see. My eyes are still burning!