Bride Wars!

So, it's been a loooooonnnnnngggggg break from my blog I know, but dear readers, I needed it. There was A LOT going on this spring/summer and unfortunately, that meant no time for my blog. And let's be honest here, it's not like I was ever really that ... uhm let's say punctual ... about updating my entries!

Anyhoo, the reason for all the chaos?? Another one of my sisters got hitched - wohooo! And then another got engaged - double wohooo! And yet another came along just for the ride with two kids, a husband and a kidney stone (his, not hers) in tow - a reserved wohooo, but only because of the kidney stone. Yes, it's been a hectic few months. Thankfully, all went well (or hamdillah, as we say in this neck of the woods). As you can see from the pic above, the bride was absolutely stunning, the engaged sister (right) was as equally as radiant and 'married with children' (left) has never looked less than beautiful a day in her life. That's me in the middle. (And no, we bridesmaids were not pointing our bouquets at our sister's head because she made us wear bridesmaids dresses.)

During the whole summer, I have to relate to you the huge contradiction going on in my head as both my younger sisters prepared for their nuptials and engagement party. Some of you may recall my less than enthusiastic feeling towards such celebrations because of the onslaught of akbalik (hope you get married next) comments that I get. I thought that was bad ... until they stopped! Let me explain ...

You know, it's true what they say, you don't appreciate what you have until it's gone. Funnily, weirdly and incredibly bizarrely enough, that's how I felt about the whole akbalik thing. I despised it because I was like, 'Hello, there is more that I want to do in my life than get married, it is not one of my major goals - I want to accomplish things greater than nabbing a husband!'

Fast forward to this summer. A bunch of people were over to congratulate us all on my sister's engagement. My sisters were all there and I'm the only single one left. I was sitting next to my also single brother and then when everyone got up to leave, they all completely ignored me and started telling him akbalak. Did I mention I was standing right next to him?? Suddenly, being at the receiving end of an abalik comment wasn't so bad. I seriously felt like an expired carton of milk. I thought maybe I should get a new tattoo on my forehead, this one saying, 'Yo, still viable.'

My sister noticed this outrageous injustice of akbalik bestowment, and said politely, 'Anissa first.' Then the barrage of akbaliks began to spring forth and - again - funnily, weirdly and incredibly bizarrely enough, I was actually pleased. My brother on the other hand was where I was just a few short months ago and sick of hearing it. He joked that he was going to change his name to Akbalak.

But you won't hear any complaints from me anymore, no siree, Bob! I ain't no moldy piece of bread just yet, so feel free to call me Anissa Akbalik any old (no pun intended) time!!

Immortal UNbeloved

Over the past few weeks, my mom has been working on transferring all our home movies (from the early betamax days to the present) onto DVD. My dad bought his first video camera back in 1984, when I was ten years old, so there are A LOT of tapes to convert. We all thought it would be a lot of fun to start watching those old tapes right from the very beginning, but boy, was I wrong! You see, over the decades, I had forgotten how awful I was growing up, and just remembered myself as being a nice kid who was good to her siblings (for the most part). And with advances in technology and things like the betamax going obsolete, it became harder and harder to revisit those tapes for a little dose of reality. The cold hard truth could not be hidden forever, though, and now, what I was really like as kid has resurfaced. Dah dah dahhhh ...

Yes, the theme of haunting music should be playing in your heads right now, it is only fitting considering what a dreadful child I was. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating just a little bit. It's not like I would've been perfect for roles in the Exorcist or The Omen, but I wasn't exactly a little ray of sunshine either. My sister Alyah always told me that I was mean when I was kid and we'd get into huge arguments as adults over this issue. I would say I was delightful and charming and that she was the meanie, and she would say that I was horrible and always picking on her. Yes, very mature, I know. Anyway, I now have to eat my words because she, in fact, was right all along. And to top it all off, there is video evidence to support her claims! (Okay Alyah, happy now, you were right!)

At practically every occasion caught on film, I am making acidic comments about my siblings, or making fun of them in some way. At one family lunch, I'm even filmed whacking my little brother across the head without batting an eye. (I think I felt guilty immediately afterwards, because then I am seen hugging and kissing him, so I guess I wasn't completely awful, right??)

I'm second from left, hugging a then one-year old Nadya.
Don't be fooled by my seemingly sweet demeanor!

My siblings, on the other hand, might as well have been actors in a Hallmark movie, always holding hands and hugging each other and playing with each other. They look into the camera and make cute remarks, whereas I look into the camera and wax lyrical about how completely fabulous I am. Yes, I forgot to add that in addition to being unbearable, I was also totally conceited, believing that I was the greatest thing on earth. I have no idea why. I was overweight, had braces AND glasses, not to mention the worst sense of style, and let's just say that every day was a bad hair day.

Little miss conceited. That's Alyah on the right looking
on in horror, thinking, 'What the hell does this chick see in herself!'

It made me nostalgic for the good ol' days when no camcorders existed and people could remember themselves anyway they liked and nobody would be the wiser. Unfortunately for me, the truth is out of the bag. Just call me the Rafeh Immortal UNbeloved!

How I discovered that George Clooney is NOT in love with me

Yes, it's been over a week since my last entry and I'm feeling like the absolute worst blogger ever. But, in my defense, I have been ill ... yet again! I caught a debilitating virus that left me bed ridden for five days - fun stuff! Anyway, now on to today's exhilarating entry: secret admirers. Oooohhhhhh ...

So, last week, I got this sms that I have a secret admirer - I know, I know, everyone's been getting them. But, I decided to check the whole thing out, investigative journalism style, so that I could properly expose the scam to you, my dear readers. For those of you not in the know, an sms has been going around that the recipient has a secret admirer. To get your special message, though, you have to send an sms to a provided number. My 'secret admirer' message was in French - the first clue that the whole thing is bogus, because anyone who knows me even remotely, would never, ever, send me a message in French. Anyway, it read something like, 'I really like you, but I'm too intimidated to approach you.' Flashbacks of grade school and the crushes of 12 year olds sprang to mind, but I persevered!

The message then says that it will give you the name of your so-called admirer if you send yet another sms to the same number. I did so (only because our dear minister of telecom has reduced sms rates to $0.10, otherwise this experiment would never have happened. So, thanks Gebran!). I received another message, saying, shocker of all shockers, that my secret admirer wishes to remain anonymous, but if I send in the name of who I think it could be, it will tell me whether I'm right or wrong. So, I typed in a name, and guess what folks ... ? That's how I discovered that George Clooney is not secretly in love with me!

Although entirely possible, George is not in love with me

Devastated as I was, the experiment was not yet over. My sister, who also received a secret admirer sms, did the same thing at my -- annoying? -- insistence, just to see if we would get the exact same message. Well, hers was in English, but she was as equally heartbroken to learn that Edward Cullen was not secretly pining away over her!

So there you have it folks! Our brilliant detective work was so brilliant, in fact, that I feel like this could be an Emmy award winning segment on 60 Minutes. And thanks to the amazing investigative team of Rafeh & Rafeh (aka Anissa and Nadya) we have not only managed to uncover the truth for you, but have also saved you from those moments when you think, 'Well maybe I could have a secret admirer,' but you don't want to be that loser that sent in the sms hoping to find true love, only to realize that you actually fell for a gimmick. Yes, you owe us big time (feel free to thank us ad nauseam!).

Disclaimer: This experiment is in no way an indication of loserish behavior, since it was carried out with the full knowledge that it was a hoax and done for the sole purpose of providing hardcore proof of its bogus nature.