UnBreaking Bad

So, I've been binge watching Breaking Bad lately. I wanted to know what all the hype was about and be in on all the references and jokes, but mostly I just wanted people to think I was cool. I was really drawn into all the Walter White drama, but thought that what Lebanon needs is the complete opposite - basically to unbreak bad. We've become so jaded over the years that no one is nice anymore. I know it sounds trivial, but for some time now, I've noticed that many Lebanese have lost their goodwill and manners are a thing of the past. I know, I know, you're thinking, Anissa, you really expect fighters in say Tripoli to take time in between trying to blow each others' heads off and say, 'Yo, thank you for missing a major artery', or 'please don't aim at the heart'? But you know what? Perhaps if we were kinder to one another, such conflicts would be less the norm nowadays.

For example, I have been going to the same gym for about eight months now. No one, and I mean absolutely no one, says 'hello'. But the thing that irritates me the most is the parking attendants at the cashier window. Every time I pull up, I greet whoever is on duty and all I have gotten in return are Walter White death stares. So, I made it my goal to get them to say hello back. I can't explain why, but it just became so important, like if I could get them to be polite, then maybe it was a sign that there is hope for Lebanon. I had like this Rocky moment, but instead of 'Eye of the Tiger', Katy Perry's 'Roar' was playing in my imaginary mission montage. I was gonna do it, whatever it took, Parking Attendant the Elder and Parking Attendant the Younger (they don't wear name tags) were going to acknowledge my 'hellos' and 'thank yous' dammit.

I explained my admirable goal to MadGlam and she said, 'Maybe they don't respond because you talk in English. Say it in Arabic.' Aha! That must be the reason, I thought. So the next day, I said, 'marhaba' and 'shukran'. Walter you-stole-my-meth White eyeballing was the response. 'Okay, maybe they think you're a peasant or something. Say it in French,' MadGlam advised again. (She has the answer for everything, as long as you don't ask her to name a song title.) So I tried the 'bonjour/ merci' route and got Walter I-am-the-danger White in return. (Anyone else getting that I am really into Breaking Bad?)

Then one fine day, after six months at the gym, I pulled up to the window and Parking Attendant the Younger was on duty. I said, 'hello' and miracle of all miracles, HE SAID HELLO BACK. I was so stunned that when he handed me back the ticket, his arm dangled out his window for a good 30 seconds before I noticed and took it from his hand. I felt victorious, but my mission was not yet complete. Parking Attendant the Elder was still holding out. He became my Everest.

Until last week. Oh my god! Eight months of unrelenting politeness in return for eight months of Walter shut-up-Skylar White evil eyes, and Parking Attendant the Elder finally, finally, caved in and said 'hello'. 'That's right, b**ch!' I shouted back triumphantly in my best Jesse Pinkman. Okay, not really.

But long story short: Mission accomplished; Everest climbed. Please acknowledge my awesomeness. Thank you.

No Sh** Sherlock

It recently came to my attention that someone has created a new car bomb app specifically for Lebanon. It is sad to say, but when I first learned of it, I was like, that's such a good idea! I know, in other parts of the world they get excited about new iPhones, Google glasses, etc, but around here, car bomb apps are the bomb, no pun intended (okay, yes, intended!). And this coming on the heels of our very own Electricity Cuts app, which lets us oh-so-very-advanced and civilized (we like to think) Lebanese know when our power is going to be shut off and for how long. Impressed with our inventiveness yet? No? How shocking.

Anyway, since this car bomb app came to be, I really wanted to download it, but someone cautioned me against it - 'You really want to download something that came from the army?' Good point. But as many living here have been going through as of late, nearly every car we encounter is a suspect. Just the other day, I parked my car in the underground parking of my gym and there was a car with tinted windows in the spot next to mine. The engine was running and the license plate was from a Gulf country.

I immediately got suspicious. Why is the engine running? This was a dinky looking car and usually cars with Gulf license plates are on the fancy side. Hmmmm, I thought, I could really use that car bomb app right about now. I considered going to security and reporting the car, but then thought, what if it's just some sleazy couple too cheap to get a hotel room? If only Sherlock Holmes were here (the Benedict Cumberbatch one, not RDJ). He would just look at the car, examine the dust particles and the pressure of the tires and surmise that there was no bomb, just a couple of randy teenagers going at it.

It might seem blasé to joke about this, but I rushed to the elevator just in case. I then decided not to report the car because I would be too embarrassed if my other suspicion of cheapo sleaze bags was actually the case. Stupid reasoning, I know. Since when is it better to get blown up than embarrassed? But this really was my thought process as I got in the elevator and calculated how far I had to be to be clear of the maybe car bomb. Perhaps only in Lebanon do average citizens go about their daily life in this manner. Car bomb? Nahhh, couldn't be. But maybe? Nahhh, just go the gym and shut up.

I was lucky that day, but damn if I didn't wish we had a Sherlock app, so that we could make sure that suspicious cars weren't bombs in waiting. You'd press a button on your phone and - pouf! - Cumberbatch would show up and give you the 411 in seconds. And I'm not just saying that because I'd want Cumberbatch to show up at the click of a button. No, I'm a genuine concerned citizen and said app would be solely for the benefit of Lebanon. Completely. Entirely. I do not harbor any selfish intentions whatsoever.

Not So Secret Diary of a Beiruti Gal

I'm sure everyone is absolutely desperate to know what a fabulous, exciting, super popular, successful, single Beiruti gal (yes, me!) gets up to during the course of any given week. It's exhilarating stuff, let me tell you. So exhilarating in fact, that I decided to give you a sneak peek of my thrilling diary. So here it goes...

Monday
Well, K$sha may wake up in the morning feeling like P.Diddy, but when I get up there's only one word to describe what I feel and look like: crap. And I don't say that in a fishing-for-compliments way, because seriously people, I am not a morning person. I'm lucky enough to work from home and since my office consists of only moi, my work attire is a pair of pjs and a robe - tres professional, I know. I hate Mondays and usually spend most of the day downloading music and watching previews of just released movies, all the time telling anyone who'll listen that I'm sooo busy with deadlines. Good business strategy.

Tuesday
I started work and finished in time to make it to the gym for a pilates class. BIG MISTAKE. I usually never take workout classes because I'm so uncoordinated, I look like a flailing fish out of water rather than someone who is actually exercising. Anyway, I was doing my 30 mins on the bike when my trainer comes up to me and says, "Hmmm, I cannot tell ... are you fat? Yes, yes, you are fat. You have gained weight." I look at him, fury in my eyes, "I HAVE NOT GAINED WEIGHT. These sweat pants are just too BIG for me now that I have actually LOST weight and so they make me look fat." Yeah, nice one, Anissa - he's so going to believe that. He doesn't, of course. Anyway, I was so furious about the fat comment that to make a point that I was all slim and fit, I took the pilates class, because I thought, hey they're all on mats, how hard can it be?? Stupid Anissa. Let's just say they should call it killates.

Wednesday
After I finished work for the day, I was thinking that there was no way I was going to the gym after yesterday's excruciating workout. But for some weird reason, I always feel guilty when I don't go, so I like to have an excuse, no matter how lame. Just in the nick of time, MadGlam called and eased my guilty conscious with plans to go out for the evening. I glanced at the clock and, hallelujah, there was no way I could make it to the gym and be ready in time, so I got my excuse. YES! During the evening though, my aching limbs did not really benefit from me falling on my ass - yes, in front of the whole table - when, as I was sitting on the arm rest of a chair, it tilted over, taking me with it. I tried to get up all graceful and nonchalant so that no one would really notice, but I knew that didn't happen when almost everyone ran up to me and asked if I was ok and someone even helped pick me up from the floor! Embarrassing much?

Thursday
Went to the mall with MBGF and did what I do best: GOSSIP. In the evening after meeting my deadline - yes, I do actually work! - I got ready to go the gym. I went into the TV room to eat an apple before heading out the door and looked over at the TV - Miss HotStuff was watching American Idol. "You are such a loser for watching this crap," I tell her. She ignores me, engrossed in the show. I take a seat while I finish my snack and continuously make fun of her to mask the fact that ... I'M ACTUALLY WATCHING AMERICAN IDOL. I think myself ingenious, but after sitting through the entire show and not going to the gym (again), I think the cat's pretty much out of the bag. Hello, my name's Anissa and I'm addicted to American Idol.

Friday
TGIF, wohooo! So, as with every Friday, I go to the pub for a drink with the boys. Before heading out the door, though, I get a phone call from MadGlam, asking - nay, commanding - me to go to this other place in Gemaizeh afterwards even though I tell her I'm not in the mood. MadGlam is very convincing (read: scary) and so I reluctantly agree. After the pub, we head out to Gemaizeh and notice cops and army personnel everywhere. There's even a check point, and as I roll down my window, I'm perfectly polite to the soldier - who waves me on immediately - but I'm thinking, 'Helloooo, the shootout at that club was last week, dumbasses.' I love how Lebanese security always get into action after something bad has happened. Way to take a bite out of crime! 

Saturday
In the morning, I go to get my nails done in Verdun and arrive a little early so that I can walk down to Starbucks and get a coffee. A semi-conscious security guard searches my bag at the entrance. I am sooo annoyed because again I think about the shootout at the club the week before and wonder why my handbag is searched at a bloody Starbucks, like I'm going to go in there guns blazing for a caramel macchiato, when a**hole guys are never searched and are allowed to go into clubs and shoot people. Later that evening, totally not in the mood for a crowded outing with smokers and drunk people, MadGlam and I are invited over to Mr. B's for a quiet evening of drinks. MadGlam then pleads with me not to blog about what we do next, but I tell her there's nothing wrong with going to a 24-hr grocery store to buy snacks (yum, Twizzlers) and then buying DVDs, even if it is Saturday night. We're still totally cool! But then MadGlam committs a gross atrocity by tasting one of my Twizzlers, declaring them disgusting and throwing an unfinished stick into a dumpster!! I'm not sure we can still be friends.

Sunday
This day should have been accompanied by an orchestra of heralding trumpets since it was the day that I finally saw AVATAR! I know, about time, right? Two words to describe this movie: AWE SOME. I mean, it's not every day that you get to end the week with blue people that can plug their hair into stuff!

Only males need apply

The time has come for me to renew my yearly gym membership, so I have been exploring my options and checking out a bunch of other gyms. But, after visiting pretty much every viable health establishment in my area, I have come to the conclusion that where I'm at now is the best option for me. So, yesterday I asked for the new price list for this year and was really surprised at the major hike in membership prices. I took a closer look at the membership fees to see if I qualify for any of the reduced rates and, of course, as the average singleton, I get NONE.

I noticed a special corporate rate, one for college students, people who own a chalet or cabana on the gym's hotel premises and a day rate for those willing to come between 7am and 4pm. The one 'special deal' that really irked me, though, is the one for 'couples.' Why do they get a reduced membership rate?? I asked if I qualified for the rate if a female friend joined the gym with me, and the answer was no, it has to be a boyfriend or husband. 'How prejudiced,' I said, to which the admin guy replied, 'Well, why don't you get married?' Yes, because that seems to be the solution to every problem if you have the terrible misfortune of being single.

It's not enough that people in this country make singles feel bad on a daily basis - it's come to the point where you can't even take a sip of juice without hearing 'farahtik this' or 'akbalik that.' I suppose that the prospect of being happily single is a notion most Lebanese cannot fathom (it's about 4.45pm and I have already heard inshallah nufrah minik ya raab about a gazillion times). And now, to top it all off, we are being made to feel inadequate at the gym, of all places, simply because we don't have a significant other!

The difference between the 'couples' and 'singles' rate is not huge - just $20 a month - so it's not like it's going to make or break me. But, it's the principle of the matter! Why should I have to be with someone in order to get a discounted price? There should be one rate - a human being rate - that applies to ALL people, great or small, male or female, single or attached. So I say to the Movenpick gym - yes, I'm talking to you - show some respect for your single members. We are just as worthy of your special rates as anyone else, in my humble, albeit single, opinion.