I Hate Doctors

Practicing medicine is one of the world’s most difficult, highly paid, highly respected profession.  Doctors go through a lot before being able to get that prestigious title.  School grades must be sky high, extra curricular activities must revolve around science, and university applications must be to die for.  They have to go though course after course of agonizing material, serve endless laboratory and internship hours, and prepare a sleep depriving doctorate that makes them Xanax dependent.

I don’t give a flying f***!! 

All I care about is when I visit your clinic, treat me properly, thoroughly, and accurately, give me the time I need, answer my questions, ease my concerns, and finally, give me my money’s worth of care.  Oh and by the way, try not to prescribe medicine that is impossible to find or isn’t available in pharmacies all together.

Lately I’ve been having an allergic reaction to “something”; it could be my shampoo, my cosmetics, my nail polish, or just dust and pollution.  “Something” was the term my dermatologist chose to diagnose the reason(s) for the rash I have under my eye.  After one glance at my face, she began to jot down a list of creams, cleansers, and an ointment to treat it with a handwriting that requires a cryptographer to decipher it.  Naturally, I couldn’t find the mystical ointment anywhere!  And people blame me for avoiding Doctors for as much as I can.

I Hate Doctors!

Visa V/s. Passport

One doesn’t know the value of a passport, and I mean a European, Canadian, or American Passport, until drowned in the whirlpool that is embassies, applications, paperwork, and visas.

The only thing I worry about before I travel is booking a flight at the right date and right ticket price, all thanks to my precious Canadian Passport.  It has saved my the trouble of calling embassies, making appointments for interviews, filling applications, running all over town getting stacks of paper work done than getting them translated by a certified translator, waiting for hours in line at embassies, sitting for interviews, dreading a rejection, trying all over again if rejected, or making multiple visits to the embassy to pick up the visa if accepted.

Phew!!

After being involved with my friend’s struggle for getting the American Visa to visit her family in New York, and working to help my fiancé get the Schengen Visa to Europe for our honeymoon, I have truly learned to appreciate the little navy booklet I have.

“O Canada!”

I never thought that there was so much work and stress involved in taking a vacation outside Lebanon.  Now I know what people meant when they said, “Oh, you have a passport; don’t worry, you future is set.”   It makes me laugh now thinking back at all the people I met who joked about me marrying them just for the passport.

Lebanon’s “Luxury” Redefined Resort

After a long and painstaking week, there is nothing like hitting one of Lebanon’s high end beach resorts for a little sun, water, and pampering.  I spoke too soon.

At first I though I was the odd one out, and didn’t want to mention any names, but then I came across this blog:

http://www.bloggingbeirut.com/archives/1152-Pretentious-Redefined-Sipping-Rose-in-the-Pool-Summer-of-2007.html

and thus got a green light to trash the place.

Orchid, one of Lebanon’s posh beach resorts is located in the Jiyeh area slightly south of Beirut.  It is an exclusive resort that sticks to a strict door policy of 18 and above and requires previous reservations, especially on weekends.  With magnificent landscaping, different leveled structures, private areas that include huts and Jacuzzis, and a white finish that gives off peaceful vibes, Orchid is a must visit for anyone in Lebanon; seriously! 

Even though my first experience at Orchid was exceptional, this time, there was no justice in comparing.  Beach beds are laid so close to each other that you find yourself rubbing elbows, and a little more, with a total stranger, the pool – only pool – would run as a private pool for some villa, but instead its used to accommodate a couple hundred guests, and the service is so bad that you have to change your drink three times before you get a bug-free glass, the right amount of cranberry, and the complementary nuts and carrots.

Then comes the notion of Premium V/s Luxury.

I’m a person who doesn’t mind paying a premium price for premium products, and services.  In fact, I prefer paying extra to ensure that the place I'm visiting, product I’m buying, or serving I’m getting is at a high standard.  But I refuse to be “sheeped*” and pay a premium price for a name that claims to be luxury when it is just a reputation from smoke.

Being in a swimsuit is already uncomfortable; a feeling that is maximized when you are being watched by perverted eagle eyes.  People around you who claim to be wearing sunglasses to shield the sun, are really wearing them to hide were their eyes looking.  That applies for both guys and girls. 

And again, wedgies are normal, Speedo’s are the “It” fashion for men, and making out in the pool is everyone’s favorite pass-time.

I just hate the sleazy, sex-oriented, see and be seen, showy, braggy attitude most of this Lebanese generation is at.

BLEKHHH!!  

*Sheeped: It’s a word translated from the casual Lebanese jargon that means being cheated, schemed on, and treated like a dumb barn animal; the sheep.

Now and till Forever

Fairy tales, movies, poetry, horoscope readings… the connotation of “The One” is almost everywhere you look.  But do people really stop to contemplate its meaning? What is it? What is finding “The One”?

Is it being happy with someone? Is it falling in love? Is it marriage? Is it having a family? Is it settling down? Is it everyday life? Or is it a combination of both?

Some people pass through life never finding “The One”, and others think that every relationship they stumble into is with “The One” until they either grow out of it or get their hearts broken.  Some try to make it happen by hook or crook, even if it means erasing their own personalities and stepping on their dignity, and others avoid it out of fear or simply attachment to the single life.

No matter what the situation is, no one could understand how much of a blessing it is until they actually find “The One”. 

I once heard that if you want someone to suffer, wish them love. 

I’m still trying to make sense of that! Love is so many things, including suffering.  Its what makes us get out of bed on a cold and raining morning, yet also keeps us depressed; it is what makes us do things we never though possible, yet hinders us from others; its what brings out both the best and the worst in us… its so complex.

Excuse the philosophy Mr. Youssef, but I want to say it out loud:

I have found “The One” and he is you!

The 28^th of May, 2011 marked the first day of the rest of my life… our lives! 

Other days might have been important like the 27^th of June 2009 was the day I graduated from college, or even in the future that the 10^th of September, our scheduled wedding day or the day we have our first child.  However, I know that none will be like the 28^th of May.  It was the day we sealed our bond in front of society, law, our families and loved ones, and most importantly, in front of God.

The wedding party might be important, but our true marriage has begun.  I wish that the rest of your life will be long and filled with nothing but love, happiness, success, abundance, wealth, power, children, and satisfaction with me.

This is to Youssef Abdulmawla… my prince, my love, my husband!

London

Even though I’m a Lebanese Canadian, but there is no city in the world I love and miss more than London.  The reasons; there might be many or even none… I just love that city.

London had always been the fairy tale city with kings, queens, princes and princesses.  The city that nearly conquered the world, the city where Shakespeare wrote, the city where my closest aunt and uncle live...

My trip to London was on the 1^st of January 2011, and again in January 2012!

From the time that the plane was making a decent into Heathrow and I saw the green grounds and the mid century London houses I fell in love.   Each and every sight I saw was a gasp of culture, history, civilization, and authenticity. I was in tears when the plane took off, taking me back to Lebanon.

Summer in lb

The sun has come out, the temperature has gone up, and the girls have gone practically naked… all are indicators that summer in Lebanon is finally here.

Lebanon’s weather is as diverse as diverse can be.  In winter, people can still go out in t-shirts, spend some time on the beach getting a tan, and enjoy the outdoors in every summer way possible while still enjoying a cozy meal by the fire and the white slopes of its mountains.  None the less, summer is still different.

Most of the Lebanese expats come back to spend the summer, some to see their families, some of which are here for a quick summer fling, and others are here looking to arrange a marriage (Puppy in the Window Syndrome…but that is another story).

The whole country is up to its nose with people; car rental agencies become all rented out, hotels are up to 103% in capacity, streets that are made to fit 2 million are crowded with about 8 million, reservations to anywhere have to be done months in advanced, and everyone acts as if they are on vacation when the truth of the matter is the alarm clock rings at 6:00 a.m. for them to get up to work.

Women all over the country start dressing as if the only garments available in shops are the short shorts.  Jeans ones, black outs, white ones, printed ones, tight ones, lose ones, any ones will be good enough to make the boys’, and in some cases, the girls’ heads turn; that’s the idea.  Skin, flesh, skin, flesh, and little is left to the imagination, but hey… it’s hot.

But, by far, the phenomenon that truly makes it summer in Lebanon in that everyone seems to be in heat.  Night clubs and beach resorts appear to be a scene from a Discovery Channel documentary about “Wild Sex”. 

You could only imagine…

For me, the thing I just love about summer is feeling the heat of the sun on my skin and how a soft breeze cools me down while I sun bathe and how I see my surroundings slightly darken from the shadow of the palm tree above that shades me as the wind blows.

What is your favorite thing about summer?

Women Drivers

This post isn’t intended to undermine any female driver or emphasis that men are better drivers; it’s just to point out some things I’ve realized in my modest 6 years of driving.

Women are the worst, most ill-mannered, most impatient, and dumbest creatures to get behind the steering wheel.  And the only type of driver that could measure up to a woman driver is a 60 something year old Lebanese Taxi driver.

(My female readers are muttering in discontent, especially that this is coming from a woman driver.)

Below is a list of things that I have realized that some woman drivers do as part of their driving regime.

1.       Considering that most think of themselves as multi-task individuals (peh!!), they drink coffee from an uncovered mug, smoke a slim cigarette, apply mascara in the rearview mirror, tune the radio, send a BB message, and keep a hawk’s eye at the hot dude in the car next to her all while driving.

2.       They have no knowledge (or consideration) for traffic rules which especially include, allowing the driver in the round about to exit before they enter it, giving the right of way, meaning that if she and another car reach an intersection at the same time, the car on the right (not hers) has the right to pass ahead first, keeping the zebra crossing open, incase a God forsaken pedestrian was crossing, and keeping the right lane open, since most red lights exclude cars on the right lane who want to make a turn right.

3.       Another female crossing the street is her queue to increase acceleration, in the hopes of eliminating possible competition.

4.       The “No Parking” sign means “No Parking for Men”.

5.       The “Risk of Towing” sign means an opportunity to make doll eyes at a disgusting police officer.

6.       The red traffic light means “It doesn’t mean me”, “Oh I’m color blind”, “It’s just kidding”, “I should try that shade of red on my nails”.

7.       The “Wrong Way” or “Do not enter” sign means that she is new in town and doesn’t speak the language.

8.       Getting a speeding ticket means that is was an emergency.

9.       Getting a parking ticket means that the cop is such a womanizer.

10.   Scraping the car while passing in a narrow street means that the infrastructure is crap.

11.   Jamming the bumpers into both the car in the front and the car in the back means that the victims got what they deserved for leaving such a narrow parking spot for others.

12.   Jamming into the rear end of the car in front of her means that “the dumb ass stopped immediately.”

13.   Having someone jam into her rear bumper means that “the ass-hole is a charging bull.”

14.   They have all taken lessons in sign language and finger spelling that involve one particular finger.

15.   And finally, got forbid that you have a car accident with one of them and it turns out that it was 51% your fault…the whole neighbor hood would be on the balcony watching and listening to her unbearable shrieking and “classy” language.

Men drivers could be just as bad at driving as women, but I believe that women, being the softer gender, should be a little more calm and rational while operating heavy machinery.