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

My Two Cents

Penny pinching has never been my thing. It is the most un-Lebanese thing you can do, but now that I have a mortgage, well let's just say that the honeymoon period of buying Prada bags at my leisure is officially over. (Insert tragic crying emoticon face here. Insert it more than once. And one more time for good measure.)

MadGlam would be (is?) horrified at my new frugal ways. We once traveled to Greece together and rented a quad, which broke down in the middle of the road... at the bottom of a hill. She sweet talked some young (Italian, I think?) teen to push it up the hill for us, but it still wouldn't work.

Much to my horror, she then attempted to get me to hitchhike with her back to our hotel. 'What? It is safe! Nothing will happen,' she proclaimed as she literally tried to shove me into a random pickup truck that pulled over. She thinks vacations are like Dirty Dancing with hot Johnny Castles picking you up. I think they're more like an episode on Discovery ID with Freddy Krueger lurking in the shadows. Anyway, we scuffled for a bit, with her pushing me by the shoulders to get in, me yelling for her to get off because I didn't feel like getting kidnapped by possible serial killers in a foreign country, thank you very much. The truck driver finally drove off. Either he understood the whole serial killer thing and got offended, or he just got bored. Either way, there was no hitchhiking.

We did not have our cell phones, but somehow managed to find a cab to take us back to the hotel. Once we got there, I told her to call the quad guy and demand her money back, since she's the one who rented the thing, and to ask him to reimburse us for the cab fare. Now it was her turn to look horrified. 'It's only five euros!' she said, too embarrassed to fight over what she considered such a small sum. This is, after all the Lebanese way. It is ayb, or shameful, to argue over money. But my American sensibilities would have none of that BS. 'It's the principle of the matter,' I shot back, reminding her of the ordeal that had just transpired. It wasn't the amount, I reminded her, but the fact that he cheated us and we shouldn't have to pay for that, no matter how little the sum.

So, she called the quad guy and he came to the hotel. I was with her for moral support. She agreed to argue over the five euros but not the cab fare. After some wrangling, the quad guy gave MadGlam her money back and she was ecstatic. She opened her palm to show me the money and there was actual glee in her expression. 'My mother will be mortified,' she said. 'Well, I'm proud of you,' I replied.

But now that I'm back living in the US, I may have taken that 'matter of principle' a little to far. I got my cable bill and it was up by two cents. Yes, I know two cents. But since the ad said that my bill would stay the same for the first year, I thought, you know, it's a matter of principle. I probably shouldn't be admitting this, but I called. And complained. Over the two cents. I didn't express outrage or anything - this is the same cable company that had sent out bills to 'annoying' customers with curse words in place of their names. I was super calm and explained the change, no matter how small, had messed up my automatic payment system.

Can you guess how this story ends? Well, I got my two cents!


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