Oh George, it could've been me!

Did I say 'could've'? I meant 'should've', it should've been me! I mean seriously, George, if you were going to end up with a Lebanese chick, why not me? Like your present fiancee, I too hail from the glorious mountains of Lebanon - albeit, the other side of the mountain, but many would argue that it is, in fact, the prettier side. I also speak Arabic (kind of, sort of) and French (bonjour!), and although I've never tried a case, I do object to a lot of things (there are how many calories in this caramel macchiato? I object!).

Admittedly, the similarities stop there: I wasn't born in Lebanon like Amal, no, I was actually born in Kentucky, like you. Ha! See how much we have in common? Also, I'm not a fancy lawyer, but I do own fancy handbags. And I'm not British, but hello, I have about three or four Burberry bags, and that's close enough. Oh, and I went to a British school for seven years and can do a killer accent. Just ask Mr. B, who as a native can vouch for my totally authentic Englishness.

I'd also like to point out that I have been a loyal fan since you played Falconer on the TV show Sisters, and remained loyal while you played Dr. Ross on ER and saw all your films. Ok, you got me. I missed The American. And the March of Dimes. And The Monuments Men. And Ocean's 512. But I really liked Syriana. And that movie where you played the lawyer that fixed things for bigwig clients, kind of like the male Olivia Pope, but without the affair with the president and designer shoes.

So what if over the years my dedication waned ever so slightly. Yes, I had a brief thing with Michael Fassbender. But in my defense, did you see the Jane Eyre remake? I mean, who wouldn't, right? And then there is the whole Benedict Cumberbatch thing. I'm going to plead the fifth on that one on the grounds that I may incriminate myself (psst, hey Ben, ignore this, I still adore you!). Despite these, um, transgressions, when I wrote my book and my publishers posted my biography on their site, I gave a shout out to you (as my future husband) and only you. But were you even remotely appreciative? No! So ungrateful, George, really.

Yes, so I should be the one wearing that ring and going to parties with Cindy Crawford and her husband. On second thought, Cindy still looks amazing and if I wanted to feel bad about myself, I could just sit in front of the TV and watch Victoria's Secret commercials all day. (OT but don't you just hate it when you're watching The Mindy Project and you think to yourself, hmm, I could eat a lovely bowl of ice cream right about now, and then that commercial comes on and you're just like crap, no more ice cream for me?)

Ok, I digress. You still with me, George? No? Well, you should be! (Psst Ben, call me!)


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I'm Baaccckkkk!!

I know, I know. No comment/excuses necessary. The world's worst blogger is back! So, after a six month absence, where do I begin? You'd think after such a long hiatus I'd have at least gathered up some juicy, sexy morsels to share with you all. I guess some things did happen since January. I grew my hair out, and then in a sudden fit of madness, chopped it off again. I know, exciting. Just FYI, don't, no matter how hard a time you're having styling your hair, take a pair of scissors into the bathroom and think you can channel Vidal Sassoon and a create a new Jennifer Aniston craze by trimming your own locks. Unless you enjoy looking like Raggedy Anne. I have to admit, I'm not enjoying it so much.

Okay, moving on...  I FINALLY joined a new gym after moaning about it for the past year. In the last four months, I have gone four times. I am so fit! I found a hilarious internet posting saying something like, 'my bathing suit told me to go to the gym, but my sweat pants, were like, nah!' and I totally decided to take it literally. Sweat pants are far kinder. But yesterday, I opened the scariest drawer in my cabinet, the bikini drawer, and reality hit in. They just kept staring at me, tauntingly saying, 'You're never gonna fit in me.' So I went to the gym. Yeah, I'm gonna be a supermodel (hey, miracles do happen)!

I also went to London to visit Miss HotStuff, who is now the constant companion of a Mr ToughStuff. A Scotsman on the subway - excuse me, Tube - wondered if I was in town looking for a British husband. Since he did not look like Michael Fassbender, you can guess my answer! Unfortunately, most crushing of all, I could not get tickets to the Harry Potter Studios, but I did get to Platform 9 3/4 and pushed a trolley straight on through to the Hogwarts Express. Kind of. Miss HotStuff embarrassingly accompanied me to Kings Cross station as we asked 20 security guards how to find it. When we got there, she made one grave mistake: the 'conductor', asked what scarf we wanted and she, gulp, said Slytherin! I near had a heart attack and made her go for Gryffindor, naturally.

Let's see. Oh! I also went to the Guns N' Roses concert, which was AWESOME! Appetite for Destruction was the first album I ever bought as a teen, so it was nice to go back in time and rock out to 'Sweet Child O' Mine' with Axl Rose. I have to admit, I was kind of annoyed with all the teeny boppers there, crying and going nuts over the band when they weren't even fetuses when they came out. I kept thinking, This is my band! Go and see a Justin Bieber concert! You can have him and his stupid hair!

One other tidbit from that night: I went with my brother, we took a picture, he posted it on Facebook and next week, we were apparently engaged. To each other. Yep, that's all it takes, one pic on Facebook and you're getting hitched, even if it is to YOUR OWN BROTHER! EWWWWWWW! And the picture was LABELED, as in appearing with the same surnames!

Anyhoo, I don't want to overload you all dear readers with too much info, so I will sign off for now! I could promise to be a better blogger in the future, but we all know that we shouldn't make promises that we can't keep!!!

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!