I’m Baaaccckkk: A Limited Series Event

Preamble: The world is in turmoil now — this, I know. But the arrival of COVID-19 doesn’t mean the exit of humor and laughter (it’s the best medicine after all!). So, I’m bringing back the good ol’ blog for a limited series event. Suddenly, I’ve got a little time on my hands. Let’s find the lighter side of self-isolation: I’ll share my inconsequential non-adventures and invite you to share yours ❤️.

I’m baaccckkkk! I know — I’ve written those words so many times before, they have absolutely no meaning now. So, I took a break from blogging. A reallllllyyyyy long break. But, I decided enough is enough. I’ve got to get back to entertaining all my eager fans — and by fans I still mean Mom!

So, a lot of things have changed since we last chatted. Let’s see, I changed jobs ... twice. I grew out my hair and cut it, hated it, and grew it out again ... twice. For long-time readers (again, Mom), I have given up Starbursts. I know, that is shocking! I’m still obsessed with the Starbucks app and Target is still an incomprehensible, money gobbling temple of stuff I buy but don’t need. Except now, it doesn’t have toilet paper 🧻. Also, most tragically, I now need reading glasses. OMG, that was painful to even type, let alone admit. *Sigh* But it’s true 😭.

I was in denial for a long time. NSS, Miss HotStuff and Pixie Minxie all told me I need glasses. Each time I would scream, “NO I DON’T,” as I held my cell phone about a mile from my face, squinting, trying to read a text. When I started asking friends to sign receipts at restaurants, I knew it was time to bite the bullet and make an appointment with an eye doctor.

During the appointment, when it was finally confirmed that I did indeed need glasses, the doctor saw my crestfallen face and said — to make things a million times worse — “You shouldn’t be upset, you’ve done well for your ag...” He didn’t finish saying the last word. My eyes grew small and dark, and he had the good sense to not say it. My age indeed! Anyway, he handed me my prescription and I thought, If I have to wear glasses, I’m going to wear them in style. And anyone who knows me knows that by style, I mean one thing: Prada.

So, I marched right into the Wal-Mart eye glasses place and asked, in all seriousness, “Where are your Prada frames.” At a Wal-Mart. The sales guy looked at me with a WTH expression that befittingly said without words, “You know you’re in a Wal-Mart, right?” I still didn’t get it. Reeling from the insult of needing reading glasses, I demanded designer frames. So, he took me to a wall with the pricey ones, naming them and the cost. And still I asked, “So, you don’t have Prada?”

No ... no they did not have Prada. Finally he asked to see the prescription. He then said, “You’re eyesight really isn’t bad enough for you to be investing in expensive frames. You’re better off buying the ready-to-wear kind.” He had thrown me off. I had a plan. Now my plans were thwarted!

I walked the aisles of Wal-Mart wondering what was I to do? Then I spotted this turntable display thingy with all these cheapito glasses and I did a complete 180. If I can’t get designer frames, I thought, I’m going to get the cheapest pair I can find. And the cheapest pair I did get — $9.99, thank you very much. And off I went.

I kept the glasses in my purse and only brought them out when I needed to sign a receipt at a restaurant. I didn’t use them for anything else. Not even for reading, and I love to read. So, guess what? I stopped reading. I did buy another pair to keep by my bed just for that purpose, but could not bear to use them. Don’t ask me why. So, when self-isolation started, I decided to get over it already and start reading again.

There is a book on my nightstand that has been collecting dust for 18 months. I started the first 25 pages, then realized, Hmmm, these words are blurry, and never picked it up again. But now ... now is the time to finish this book. The other night, I picked it up, put the glasses on and reached for the remote to switch the TV off.

Oh, Superbad is on. Okay, I’ll just watch the beginning, then I’ll read the book. Took the glasses off. Ten minutes went by. I’ll just wait for the McLovin part, then I’ll read the book. McLovin came on screen, fake ID in hand. Right, I’ll wait for the scene at the liquor store, then I’ll read the book. Another half hour goes by. That’s it, when the party scene is over, I’m switching this off. Party scene is done. I go for the remote again. Wait, I simply can’t turn this off without seeing the Panama scene. That would be crazy! 

I turned to the book, still in my lap, placed it back on the nightstand, reviled glasses on top. Tomorrow ... I promise, I’ll read you tomorrow.

#WeekOne

Blonde Ambition in a Mad, Mad World

In your resume, when there's a big gap in your work experience, you always have to have a good reason. When you're a blogger (or in my case, 'blogger'), you simply own up to being the world's worst. Where has the time gone? And, most importantly, did you miss me?

To be honest, with all that's going on in the world and a personal family loss, I felt I could not write about the trivial and inane. You know, I usually don't get political, but things are too nuts to not even mention. So, yes, pretty terrible things have happened around the globe since May.

I was waiting for one, tiny bit of news that would show me that the world isn't so doomed after all, and it finally happened a couple days ago in the homeland. Lebanese soldiers that had been held hostage for nearly 18 months were finally set free! It so gladdened my heart to see these brave men returned to their families that I thought, hey, it's ok to talk about dumb stuff now.

Now, let's talk. A lot has happened, so where do I begin? Since we're on the subject of how mad the world is nowadays, I should mention that since we last touched base, I dyed my hair blond! I know! And not Lebanese blond, either, but real bright, yellow Scandinavian blond. It was not a good look on me. My entire head glowed in the dark, even during the day (I know that doesn't make sense, just go with it). In some lights, it even looked kind of green.

I don't know what came over me. Like I said, the world is going mad, so I thought I should dye my hair to match. Reactions were mixed. Some people, like Miss HotStuff and, of course, Mom, thought it looked fabulous. Mad Glam said I looked 'pale and kind of tired'. She is not one to sugar coat things, like ever, which is why I don't really ask her opinion on my appearance. But I changed my picture on What's App for like 3 seconds and I got a message at 3am my time with the delightful comment above.

FFF was very diplomatic and said that it looked good but she preferred me with brown hair. Pixie likened me to a fluorescent bobble head, which you know, was not too far off, if I'm going to be fair. Mr. B saw the same What's App pic as MadGlam and simply said, 'You're a blonde!' He did use an exclamation point, though I'm not sure if that was in excitement/approval or disgust/horror.

It did not take me long to regain my sanity. A couple glances in the mirror and blinding my corneas with my now neon locks were enough to convince me to go back to brunette. But the whole thing reminded me of when I dyed my hair black when I was in graduate school. I had just moved to Beirut but was on Christmas break in RIC when I woke up one morning determined to look like Elizabeth Taylor (because when you're 21, you think anything is possible, even the impossible).

As a student, I was on a tight budget, so I just bought one of those supermarket brands that was supposed to be a temporary shampoo color. At the time, I thought it looked awesome. People back in the 'Root did not agree. One day, I was walking to class at AUB and a friend came up to me. 'OMG, what did you do to your hair?' she asked. I replied I dyed it black. Duh. 'OMG, all I saw across campus were these big purple eyes!' she said. Yay, I thought, mission accomplished. I totally look like Liz Taylor now. Then she finished with: 'You look like a witch.' Ouch.

The moral of the story is that I should stop dying my hair. And also, people should seriously compliment me more.


Follow me on Twitter @anissarafeh

Amusement Park Fun a la Libanais!

I'm just going to pretend that it hasn't been six months since I last wrote a blog entry. I'm going to be one of those people that sweeps things under the rug in hopes that no one will notice. (A six month absence isn't really such a long time in the blogosphere, right?) Sweep, sweep.

Anyway, a couple weeks ago I had the immense pleasure of spending a weekend with Harry Potter. It was AWESOME! I hadn't been to an amusement park in decades, literally, because of my whole complete disinterest in roller coasters and such. But this was different. This was the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. To walk in Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley and take the Hogwarts Express was a dream come true! Yes, I am that much of a geek.

The long weekend trip could not have come at a better time. Benedict Cumberbatch got engaged (insert tragic crying emoticon here)... and I was definitely in need of a bright picker-upper. With Never Sits Still and her gang in tow, we headed to sunny Orlando for the vacation of a lifetime.

First thing was flying there. We found a great deal on some tickets, but at the airport, I discovered that this airline does not have assigned seating. It's a first come, first serve kind of thing, which made me kind of panic. My Lebanese blood started to churn as I imagined everyone fighting to get a seat. This was going to be a nightmare, I thought. Images of my life in Beirut and the enigma of the Lebanese people's inability to wait in line in a cordial manner consumed my thoughts.

But then I remembered, Hey I'm in the US now and Americans love to wait in line. Since I moved back here, I noticed that whenever there are two lines, there are always 800 people in one and only two in the other. Sure enough the ordeal was short lived and we all found seats with little fuss (and no bruises).

As soon as we arrived to our hotel, we dumped our bags and headed to Diagon Alley. WHOPPEE! I was literally jumping up and down in excitement, but with grown-ups dressed as cartoon characters on every corner, I didn't feel like too much of an idiot. But then on the second day, we decided to try some other non-Harry Potter attractions. As always, I styled my hair in the morning and wore a comfortable yet stylish outfit that I thought was suitable amusement park attire. Maybe in Beirut. Boy did I feel like an idiot after going on a water ride! I looked like a drowned rat.

While other people were screaming in fear, I was screaming because my hair got wet. I'm not kidding. Through all the 'Ahhs', you could hear me yell, 'My hair! My hair!' This one couple on the ride started laughing at me, and rightly so. They were like, "Um, why'd you dress like that?" I gave them death stares and said, "I'm Lebanese, ok? We only wear gym clothes to the gym!" Ok, you caught me. I didn't say anything, but laughed along with them. I really was a sight. I tried to imagine MadGlam in my predicament, with her gold and diamonds dripping all over the place. At least I'm not wearing jewelry, I thought.

I looked over at the couple that were mocking me (in good fun, but whatever) in their gym gear, hair in a hassle-free ponytail or a cap, and flip flops, and where 10 minutes before I was thinking, pick up a copy of InStyle, I was now thinking these people are amusement park fashion geniuses.

Before going on the ride of hair-disaster-hell, I saw people cramming into these giant hot air blowers and thought how moronic. It cost $5 and I was like, what a waste of money, suckerrrrsss! Guess where I headed as fast as my soaked, denim-clad legs could take me afterwards? You guessed it: the giant dryers. If my hair looked bad before, you can imagine how it looked after five minutes in those dryers. I sent a picture of myself to a What's App group of my peeps and one wrote back that I looked like Monica from the episode of Friends where her is so awful frizzy, she has to put it in dreadlocks. That was one of the nicer comments.

I looked around for a hat store or any place I could buy a hair band. I messaged the What's App group and informed them of my emergency hair rescue plan. Miss HotStuff responded immediately, "No no no, your hair will stick out at the sides and look worse." "No no no," I countered, "I look good in hats." Well, not to toot my own horn, but I do. Long story short, I found a hat. It cost $30 and was made of paper, but it did the job so I consider it a good investment.

The moral of the story is this: you can take the girl out of Lebanon, but not Lebanon out of the girl. And also, water + Anissa's hair = disaster that not even Harry Potter's wizarding can fix!



Follow me on Twitter @anissarafeh