the rats' block

I miss my Rats.

Now they are all in committed, loving, happy relationships, I have nothing to write about anymore. Never knew how much I relied on them for information, but the truth is, every conversation with them use to spark something, make me want to write, give me inspiration, and now, it's just blah.

I mean don't get me wrong, I'm happy they're happy... But seriously Rats "in a relationship" lose all of their rattitude. Which just goes to show that everything I ever said about them is annulled the minute they fall in love. No more hunting, no more games, no more Cigar Sundays. And for me, no more stories. You might think I get enough of my own stories to write about, but the truth is, lately, I've been working so much I can't remember the last time I met someone --even if it was just for two seconds.

Now I go for drinks with the Rats and their respective significant others and I can't help but feel like the odd one out, always complaining that it impossible to find a decent guy in this forsaken city.  Now they say it's because I've been leaving the house in hoodies and converse and never bother to put an ounce of blush and I guess they have a point... But it's a vicious cycle: You start out by making an effort, you fix your hair and you dress up nicely and you go out with that "open" attitude because that's what everyone says right, it's not about looks they say, it's all in the attitude. "People will know if you're open to them or not. You always look so closed of course no one is going to approach you." What the f*** does that even mean? I kind of get it, but seriously, I don't know how to do it any other way. I'm not the kind of person who is overly sociable, I don't usually make an effort to talk to random people, and honestly, I don't want to pretend like I do. "Be yourself" isn't that at the core of it?

So then I decided to stop making an effort. It'll happen when it happens. I'll just make an effort with myself from now on, and to be honest, it works most days. My life is more fulfilling now then it ever was when I wasn't single.

Yet I would be lying if I said it doesn't get lonely. You can be as independent as you want, it's human nature to want to share your life with someone. Have someone who cares about you specifically, asks about you everyday, has you on their radar. One of my best friends is having a virtual relationship over BBM and it's been going on for the past four months. And there is no real potential because the guy lives in another country and they have no plans to change that and they don't even know what it is that is going between them, and every so often, she wonders if she should stop texting him. But we talked about it, I told her honestly: I think it's always good to have that someone that keeps your phone ringing. Sometimes I look at my phone and I realize that I'm not waiting for anyone to call, and that depresses the hell out of me. And it's a tad lonelier still when your Rats are in their own holes. Yesterday I asked them "don't you have anything to give me for my blog???"

"Write about how much you miss us."

Rhapsodian guest blogger: Out of the Rathole

 For the first time on Beirut Rhapsodies, my guest blogger is a fellow Rhapsodian. Now let me put her in context for you: she's my one friend of whom I can truly say, without hesitating, is super happy in love right now. Which is why I think her advice is worthwhile. I mean, she's had her share of tears: she has cried more than anyone else I know over guys so she didn't always have it right... but she's on the other side of spectrum right now, and I thought it would be good for us to get a different perspective. 

The last couple of blogs have made me realize that my favorite Rhapsodian needs a helping hand…She has given up on love and I cannot bear seeing  this happening! So I’ve decided to share my 2-cents with her, and with all the girls out there who mumble, not too loud (so that it doesn’t come true!), but once too often, those absolutely atrocious and silly words: “’I’m gonna die alone”.

By no means am I claiming to be wise enough to become a love doctor, nor am I a Vietnam veteran to claim years of experience, but I did have enough bad experiences with a wide spectrum of rats to be able to tell from a distance if one is a plague- carrier or a pure-breed worth taming. Here is a sample of bad experiences that I’m sure are as cliché as it gets but enriching nonetheless:

So there was the first love, that endless relationship I wonder how it ever lasted so long. He was my college sweetheart. He was anything you would want in a guy when you’re 17…but after 5 years, all I wanted was freedom.  The stars must have misunderstood what I meant by freedom, because what I cashed-in instead was an egocentric brat who occasionally cheated and frequently lied and who owned the only phone ever created (I guess it was a prototype) that vanishes  and reappears at the owner’s convenience, meaning he could not always answer my texts and could never call me back.  The phone was designed in such a way that one could only text back should one need a booty call. Of course I was crazy about him because when he wasn’t busy touching his Blackberry or other girls, he would tell me the most wonderful words  that I would foolishly believe. One day he told me it was over by using the infamous “it’s not you it’s me” line, and he hurt me so much that my tears could have filled the Atlantic, back and forth 8 times… Then there was the guy whom I was never good enough for, and who destroyed what was left of my ego: “you’ve put on 300g, I’ve noticed them around your elbow”. Then came the possessive-obsessive-paranoid guy who was jealous of his own shadow…and a few other mice here and there (yes, not even qualified to be called rats) but I won’t dwell more on them…

And then the revelation. The decision. Yes this wonderful resolution we all take after a nauseous succession of plague-carrying rats: NO MORE BOYS I AM GOING TO FOCUS ON ME.

And so I did. Of course I cried sometimes, I missed the attention and the drama that came along with the boyfriends. But I used that time to finally get to know myself. I read more, I spent more time with the girls, reconnected with old friends, did Yoga, ran a marathon, worked harder, bought cooking books, started loving those extra 300g around my elbow, and slowly but surely regained my self confidence. I was finally happy.

 And one day, when I expected it the least, the most amazing charming loving kind funny cultured gentle, did I mention amazing… man came out from a hidden rathole and straight into my heart, and I hope to stay forever.  Today, when I ask myself what good wind brought him my way, I realize there were just a few things that I unconsciously had changed in my behavior that made me more attractive to that better breed of rats. So here are my 2-cents, or 8:

1)     Stop looking: a girl who is constantly hunting is a turn-off. Genuinely enjoy your single self, and one day, when you’re in your sweat pants with the almighty pimple on your left cheek,  thinking you’re looking your worst but actually looking your absolute best natural self,   he will find you.

2)    Know yourself: know what makes you happy and what you will never compromise on, and let no one stop you from getting it: If you need your yoga or your cooking or your time with the girls, make sure you get it.

3)    Know your flaws and make him love you for them: If you are the type that has 5-minute- a-month PMS bitchiness (give or take a few minutes) he should be manly enough to accept it and to love you for it. You’re never going to change, so find a man mature enough to love you “for better or for worse”.

4)    If they want, they can: so if they don’t…they don’t want. Simple equation. Read it 5 times and make it your new 1+1=2. If he wants to be with you, the things he would be willing to do for you would surprise you. So unless you see that type of behavior, don’t waste your time…

5)    Do no settle for less: and that means settle only for MORE. More attention, more care more respect. You were dad’s little princess remember? Now you have to be Rat’s little princess. Let him treat you the way you would treat him, and better, or nothing.

6)    Don’t be a nag: the weeping willow only goes one way: down. When you think nothing could go worse in your life, just switch on the news and put things in perspective. Be grateful for what you have, and someone will be grateful to have you.

7)    Forget the games: when the right guy comes along, you won’t need those “don’t text him back before 109 minutes” rules. If he wants to play, give him an X-box and bid him farewell and tell your little brother you have a pal to spare.

8)    Last but not least: Believe in yourself. You will NOT die alone. Keep this in mind: if Sarah Palin found someone to marry her once, so will you…

one year of rhapsodies

Last year like today I wrote my first blog post, venting out my frustrations over 21st century relationships and how hard they were becoming. This is how started my year of rhapsodies. Three weeks after the first post, my boyfriend told me he realized that he would probably be happier without me. How ironic for me who was trying to "solve" the enigma of serious relationships, not realizing that if my relationship was going sour it was probably time to breakup. I'm glad he noticed though. Because otherwise I wouldn't have had the wonderful amazing life changing year that I did have from that moment on. Yes I started by crying every tear in my body, analyzed and over-analyzed every second of the previous six months to understand what I did wrong, how I could've saved it, blaming myself for letting him take me for granted, for not loosing weight, for getting too comfortable, until I finally realized that it wasn't just me who didn't make him happy anymore, that I too had been miserable for months. And that realization saved me. So I stopped with the blame game and finally moved on to the next level which was to focus on myself and what I wanted, for me. Yes I had a pile a self-help books before that and the pile tripled over the course of the next few months, because that's what I do, I read books and they make me feel like I'm going to change my life. The good news is, it worked.

I started the blog, friends began to read and share it, debate it around drinks, Rats inspired me to wiesel them in, I was motivated to write again --something I hadn't done in years. Then there was the Breakup, the depression phase, the best-friend moving to Canada, the constant hammering of the Rats for their help on how to get over it, the hours on the phone with Classy who was going through the same thing, the going through about seven dozen used and confused boxes of tissues. Went to Yoga class, took Italian lessons, traveled to Istanbul with friends. Fell in love with a city full of life and history and beauty and rhythm, realized the world was a lot bigger than me and that the possibilities were endless, started smiling again, had the best massage on the face of the earth and it felt better than sex. Reconnected with my childhood friend Rebellious, whom I hadn't seen a lot in the last few years, enjoyed going out again, enjoyed drinking, enjoyed my friends' company more. Wrote a blog-post about my parents which got 900 views. Liked a guy, flirted, kissed him, felt good to be in the "beginning" phase again. Liked other guys, enjoyed being hit on, piled up stories that the Rats laughed about and fed my blog. Went skiing for the first time in four years. Organized a cooking competition that lasted all winter, came in last place but had lots of fun getting there. Made a new friend, a girl, which is very unlikely of me. Asked a friend if I could act in her new TV series [Beirut, I love you] just for the fun of it, spent a day on set, fell in love with everyone, wanted to come back, started helping with anything and everything, spent every weekend on set and many evenings brainstorming scripts, did the makeup, helped with anything I could, made some amazing new friends, felt like I was 19 again, drank beers on the street sitting on the hood of a car, kissed a guy who fell, got obsessed with the shoots, was passionate again. Realized my oldest dream had come true. Marked the ten-year anniversary of my mother's death. Saw my ex for the first time since we broke-up, realized that I wasn't angry anymore and that I didn't miss him even though it was awkward and weird but how could it not be. Turned 26 in Los Angeles, walked into the Kodak Theater where the Oscars take place, went to Vegas and then San Francisco with my best friend, ate the best brunch in the world --felt like I cheated on New York. Took part in the 48hr film project in Beirut and won Best Film, felt like we had just won Cannes, smiled from ear to ear jumped up and down was overly excited. Saw my ex kiss his new girlfriend felt like throwing up in my mouth a litte but then finally felt free. Had the most overwhelming kiss of my life. Read 17 books, took an acting class, jumped from a rock 3 meters high into the sea, went camping, saw the Cedars, got a tattoo, acted a main part in a short film, discovered "The Healing Code" (everyone should read it by the way), cried of laughter until my abs were killing me and I almost couldn't breathe and got the best compliment of my life from a gay friend of mine who said to me: "Women like you make me wish I was straight."

Nothing about this year was as expected. Three-hundred and sixty-five days ago, I lived in a safe routine that I didn't realize was killing every ounce of creativity and passion I had. When writing scripts, we always look for a "catalyst," something that pushes the protagonist forward. This blog was my catalyst. I thought it would help me write a book --and I still hope it will. But now I know that I needed this time to really discover myself, and this is what got the ball rolling. This year I felt alive.

So thanks. To everyone who played a part in this snowball effect of amazingly random events. And to all of you who have been reading Beirut Rhapsodies, inspiring and motivating me.

seasons of change

Summer is peaking out its nose.
It's been a long winter and we are all craving lazying by the pool, showing off tanned faces, drinking on rooftop bars and acting like we're on vacation even when we're not. There is a feeling that comes together with the change of seasons... something about renewal, feeling happier, rejuvenated, more alive. And after months of gray skies and cold nights, the sun is something to look forward to.

I was speaking to a friend this morning, and we realized that all our friends had broken up at some point during this winter, including the both of us. All long, serious relationships that came to their end, each for their own reasons, each in their own way. We each try to overcome it as best we can, we each have our own process, but it's not easy for anyone. It's crazy how one person missing in your life can create such damage, such change.

For weeks at a time, everything can seem fine. And then someone tells you he saw your ex kissing another girl. Or you spot that girl on Facebook that seems to "like" everything he does. Or something really great just happened to you, and your first instinct is to share it with her --and then you remember you can't. Most days you've moved on. He doesn't even cross your mind, until you see his car parked in front of you. You see her best-friend walk out of a shop, and you wonder if she's close by. You open a random folder on your laptop, and you stumble on dozens of pictures of the both of you. And then the wound bleeds a little.

Sometimes it's a song. A movie. The other day, it was a book. I read a passage that gave me the chills, as I felt I was reading the exact scene of my breakup. It was kind of creepy actually.

But then the stings get more and more rare. One day you see the car and you forget it was his. Her picture still evokes a memory, but doesn't hurt as much. You meet someone else that makes you smile and feel special, and suddenly it doesn't feel as hard anymore.

They say time heals all things. That as seasons change, things that seemed to have died come back to life. Right now, there are rays of sun one day and gray clouds the next. It's 30 degrees in the shade, and then all of a sudden, it starts to rain. Summer is peaking out its nose. And we're not there just yet; but we're close.