the next best thing

Yesterday was mother's day and for the first time in eleven years, I wasn't sad. Of course I miss my mother, like I miss her every day. But I was so much closer to her yesterday than any other year I spent curled up in my corner afraid to look at all those people buying flowers for their mothers. I always thought the only time I would ever enjoy mother's day again would be when I would become a mother. Turns out I just had to change perspectives. 

I woke up drowned in kisses from my Parisian which immediately put a smile on my face. Then I went to the spa to enjoy an hour-long facial something where they put cream after cream on your face and massage your head and all you have to do is lie there and close your eyes and enjoy it --if I can't send my mother to the spa, why don't I just treat myself to it? 

Then I called my sister, and unfortunately, she was not in the same mood as me, so I decided to take her out to lunch. There's this adorable new diner in Mar Mikhael I knew she would love and we stuffed ourselves with burgers and fries and I spotted her smile. If I can't take my mother out to lunch in a place named after the diner in Grease (one of her favorite movies) then taking my sister is the next best thing.

She then took me to a place called Karout, where you buy anything you can think of for very reasonable prices and we spent two hours there buying things for this crazy brunch I'm throwing on Sunday. It was fun because it was the kind of outing I would love to do with my mom and it just so happens that it's also great to do with my sis. When we left, we got sort of lost and had no idea where we were, got stuck in terrible traffic, and I started getting worried that we would never make it on time to visit my mother at the cemetary. And sure enough... three minutes later, we find ourselves across the street from it!

Later that day, we drove up, my brother, my sister and I, to Baadat, where my aunt lives. You see, she lost her husband about three months ago and so we decided together with her 3 daughters that we would do something special for her. We got there before she came back home and prepared a nice dinner for her, put her favorite flowers (Mimosas) all over the house, and waited to surprise her. And when she saw us, she cried of happiness. If I can't celebrate my mother and shower her with dinner and flowers, then I can do it for the only other woman who has known me my whole life and loves me unconditionally.

And now I'm sitting here and writing this and all I can do is smile because I know that through everything I did yesterday, through everything I do every day, I celebrate my mother. I don't need to be sad or cry to miss her. I can just channel it in a positive way. I can enjoy the next best thing.

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…

extraordinary dreams

This is a hard one to write. I told myself that in this post, I would open up more about myself than quote the Rats or use my friends' life dilemmas to make a few people laugh. It's the last post of the decade, and I want to end on something more personal.
Ten years ago like now, I was in Jordan with my entire family, welcoming the new decade in the Wadi Rum desert, near a bonfire and under a sky full of shooting stars. There was so much love and laughter that day that I thought we were going to have a really wonderful year, or ten. And let's just say it wasn't quite what I expected. Three divorces, five cancers, four deaths.
Now before came the doomed decade, I was the unstoppable kind: I thought of myself as the best writer at age 13, and wrote a book to prove it. I thought I was going to be one of the greatest actors of our times, and had started acting in plays, always as a leading character of course. There was nothing humble about me or my dreams, and I believed in them more than anything. I miss that about me. Because once reality started crashing in, I stopped dreaming. I was sixteen but thought of myself as an adult. I thought "now that I understand life (imagine the audacity) I have to prepare myself. No more silly dreams about winning oscars and making the best-seller lists. Let's go to AUB, do some practical degree about something I couldn't care less about, and lower our expectations." Wow. Really amazing philosophy of life I got there.
And every so often, I would wake up in the middle of night in cold sweats, terrified that all I was doing with my life was what everyone else was doing, and that all I was ever going to be is what everyone else was going to be. I was going to be ordinary. And that was the single thing I never  ever wanted to be.
But I was too scared of being disappointed. There are things I couldn't control, like the fact that my mother died before she saw any of her kids grow up. So in what I could control, I would make sure there would be no disappointment factor. I let all of my dreams go.
The truth is, I made a huge mistake. I thought I could manage my disappointments by lowering my expectations and that turned out to be the biggest disappointment of all. And it wasn't the lesson I was supposed to learn. Here's what I know now: Life is short. And it can take months of fighting a disease or a split second to take you away, and no one knows when.
In the last decade, I lost my faith in God and I said a prayer at the Vatican; I broke a heart, and I dated a guy who turned out to be gay; I lived in my very own apartment in New York City and somehow I'm right back where I started: sharing a bedroom with my younger sister and fighting with her about wearing my new shoes.
Now comes the next decade... And there won't be any shooting stars to make a wish to, but I want to dream again. And I don't know yet what those dreams are going to be, but the possibility of doing something extraordinary is enough.

In perspective

I'm going to allow myself to go off topic this once.
Today I don't feel like making some witty remark about how the Rats have an excel sheet comparing their penis size to their height in percentages (I saw it with my own two eyes), or how women all over the country are preparing for the arrival of a fresh shipment of males. Although it would be fun to tackle, today I want to put things in perspective.
Last night, my 16-year-old cousin arrived from Chicago. She has been there for the last ten weeks, in a rehabilitation center, working on regaining every function in her body. Three months ago she fell off her horse, broke a cervical vertebrae, and lost everything we take for granted every day, like the ability to move her fingers, her arms, sit up, stand up, move her toes, walk a step.
Now she can already stand up on her own, take steps with a walker, and regained almost all of her arms and hands' functions. And in a couple of months we all know she will be on her feet again, dancing away. It's a miracle. But what is even more of a miracle, is to look at this young girl's face and see her smile. From day one, stuck in intensive care with a tube down her throat for days, this little Princess gave us the most beautiful smile in the world. It's so full of positive energy, that you can feel her magical spirit all around, and it's contagious. There is no doubt in my mind that her attitude is what helped her defy the odds of spinal cord injury and fight for her right to stand up and walk again.
When I saw her yesterday after her 24 hours of flying, she looked more beautiful then ever. I thought of all the stupid, silly things I complain about every day, and I put them in perspective. Here I was standing in front of my 16-year-old cousin sitting in a wheel-chair, exhausted, but still looking happier than I've ever felt. Made me feel so small.
Some people say you have to stop and look around you from time to time, because there are always things happening, or people in your life teaching you things without you even realizing it. Yesterday I learnt that even though life can take away every function in your body, it can't take away your spirit.
And don't think it stops here. Even though she's been in Chicago working her ass off for the last two months, this cheeky little girl is back with dates lined up with two different guys.
We've got a lot to learn.