Are we done yet? Like Hell we are …

My alter-ego in the blogosphere wrote an article recently putting men into categories. This is after we exchanged a few rallies of articles about Men/Women relationships and other current calamities!

So without further a due let’s get into the heart of it.

At the beginning of her article Maya@NYC wrote:
“In the morning, the reflection in my bathroom mirror is just a façade. It carries nothing in it. Just shapes, colors, forms. I am not there. I am in someone’s mind, on someone’s thoughts, in someone’s heart. In someone’s eyes.”

I respect that, after all this is a typical woman’s approach to her morning bathroom ritual.

For us men, that experience is much much less philosophical or existential if you want.

Of course we do look at the mirror to size up the shape of that ever growing gut and we pat it in and out trying to make it disappear or we can just turn half-way so that the angle is such that we see no gut. Of course we do stand and flex those muscles and say to ourselves: “Damn, those muscles put that Schwarzenegger dude to shame”.

Another aspect of our morning bathroom ritual, and women living with men can relate to this, is the noise factor!!!
Yep, it comes with the package I am sorry. That “Bayd Bi Awarma and Mkanek wou Soujouk(1)” dinner we feasted on yesterday with the guys has to find an exit somewhere after digestion and with us men all outlets are fair game … especially in the morning in the privacy of that bathroom.
I mean this is so deadly that I am proposing as a fight against global terror to send some of the guys I know to hunt down Bin Laden in those tricky caves he hides in. Americans may have used Agent Orange in their chemical warfare in Vietnam but in our approach we will use “Agent Mkanek” to biochemically blow that sucker into oblivion… Too bad I don’t agree with this neo-con administration and I am leaving my plan for the next one.

Now let’s get into the fun part of categorizing women just as Maya did in categorizing men.

First, she mentioned that some men make women feel like objects. Well, my first category is then of course: Candy.
Now, the subject of Candy has been discussed in sufficient details on this blog and we nearly missed a third world war and I personally came so close to loosing a good friend. I will not go into more Candy related matters but I will leave it specifically to my female readership, to enlighten me in particular and all the male readership in general on this question: If Candies are rampant all around why do you blame some men if they treated women as objects ? I mean what comes first here? is it because of Candy that men act that way? Or is it because men ARE that way that Candy exists? You tell me.

Second, there are the ones who dress to kill. Problem is they cook the same way. So unless you have a death wish, you’d better stay away from those.

Third, there are the mechanically hopeless ones. That’s when your wife/girlfriend interrupts your super important meeting with overseas clients to tell you that there is water in the carburetor of that brand new car you just got her. And you reply to her, don’t worry honey, there is no need to panic. I will send someone over to look at it. Where is the car now? And she replies it is in the pool!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fourth, there is the gold digger. Worst kind of them ALL. She married that balding fatso with the green pants and shiny white shoes because he was able to put her in a current year model Range Rover. After all, Mr. makes a bundle selling cow hides to Eastern European markets and this is how he got to be on first name basis with most of the “artistes” in Maameltein (2). Of course this is before he married “Madame” … and briefly after!!!
But hey, she doesn’t care since she can show off in front of her Bridge card playing group that she went to “Juan Les Pins”(3) for the summer tournament. Of course, Mr. thinks that “Jwan Lapin” is the cousin of “Jojo Lapin” and they are both cartoon characters.

Fifth, the hand holder. She really likes to hold hands. You are damned to hold hers too because of you let go, she goes shopping!!! With this category, if your credit card is stolen and you notice on your statement that the thief is spending less than she does. Don’t report the stolen card.

And then there is this category. When she is around, you feel that cosmic energy has been realigned. Although you were terrible at chemistry back in your school days, you suddenly understand it all, twenty some years later, you now understand how two liquids are miscible, and how atoms and electrons gravitate towards each other and you finally understand why an awesome energy is released from tiny molecules in nuclear physics. Although you never studied cardiology, you now know all about heart palpitations. You have no background whatsoever in physiology, but somehow you understand why you get sweaty palms and fidgety hands when she is around.

And as long as you cannot explain all the above phenomena, we are still not done!!!

(1): An eggs, lard and Lebanese sausage dish, if your medical insurance company knew you were under the same roof with, it would revoke your health policy without prior notice!!!

(2): The infamous Lebanese red light district.

(3): A rich and famous vacationing spot in France’s Cote d’Azur.

Women as Neckties?

A fellow blogger posted an intriguing article comparing Men to shoes. Now, there is no need to get offended before reading it. I found it witty and appealing. If it were music I would put it in the category of a light sonata.

It got me thinking though, I know women are mysterious, incomprehensible creatures (just read the comments on some of my earlier posts and you will get the drift) but can I compare them to items in my wardrobe as well?

So I took a walk in my walk-in closet and looked at that huge collection of neckties and said that’s it. Women are like neckties.

The good news is that we hold you around our necks, unlike shoes which are stepped on in very dirty environments, picking up all kind of filth, bacteria and mud. We tend to take extra care of our neckties.

The bad news is, you never look good around our necks unless TIGHTLY TIED!!! The bad news here is for us men of course, I am sure you don’t mind being tied around our necks with the tightest knot ever!

I started picking up the ties and remembering where I got this one, or who gave me that one and why.

My first three ties were Pierre Balmain, given to me by this French girl I dated for a semester my first year of college. Designed to be just a fling, I only wore them while dating her, their appeal quickly faded as fashion done them in!

Then I had this Nautica tie. Simple, straightforward, happy and colorful design. Problem is it’s too casual. Only good at an outdoor barbecue party with distant family members you see once in a blue moon.

Then I found this Izod tie. Should have never been a tie, Should have never gotten it.

The Kenneth Cole tie, I bought. Later on, I thought it was too expensive and not worth it. Not a good feeling. Thank God, I can’t compare any of my relationships with that one.

Lo and behold I found that Emporio Armani tie. Hum, not quite an Armani and fails miserably trying. Should stick to jeans I guess and never venture into “Necktie Territory”.

Then there “she” was lying majestically at the end of the drawer, hidden from prying eyes and pesky dust. Ermenegildo Zegna, my favorite of all time. Quite expensive to acquire but so chic and sober it never goes out of fashion. Made from the best silk. She’s for keeps. Too bad, the one who gave it to me is married on the other side of the world but at least in my fond memories every time I wear the tie.

I do have a Boss necktie. I hate the name though. Design is too cocky. I think I will recycle this one.

A couple of Tommy Hilfiger ties have good designs but they would be too flaky to wear to any serious event. No brains I guess. Hold your horses, these were my choices to buy.

Then I contemplated my whole collection of unbranded or unheralded neckties. Each had something special about it. A special period of my life, a special someone during that period or just me and myself battling it out with adulthood or manhood.

Then it occurred to me. In my case, there is no way I can compare my neckties to women. I have so many of them which I don’t even wear anymore. No one in his right mind could entertain that many women with so many different tastes.

Besides, the last time I wore a necktie was 6 months ago during a funeral!!!

Disclaimer …

It seems to me that a recent post I wrote has been taken too seriously and I was criticized for its contents as a professional in the field of women psychology.

Please note, that nowhere on my blog do I claim to be an expert on women issues or any other issues for that matter. Please know, I am no expert in any field. Period. And I proclaim it out loud and have no shame in admitting it. I am still learning even in my professional field in which I boast a 16 years experience but in the same time boast no expertise. Again I am still learning.

Now I started this whole blogging thing to vent off some steam that was building up in my personal life. I urge all of you who go through the pain of reading my scribbles to know two things about their author’s:
One, I am an incurable optimist. I inherently believe in the good nature of the human specie and tend to judge people from that perspective. I was taught since my early learning years to appreciate people for what they have in their minds and their hearts. I tend to appreciate more what they have in their hearts because you can always fill your mind if you have the will.
Second, I always try and look at the funny side of things. If you read my earlier postings you will notice that even during the darkest days of the July war, I was able to laugh at few issues that makes all so human and got the satisfaction of extracting a few laughs from those who read my writings.

Now, please, every time you visit my blog bear in mind that you will read about stuff that piss me off, make me laugh, or make me sad and I will always write about them sarcastically and make fun of them and not curse humanity because of it.

Please do not take that personally or judge me as person. I use that piece of the virtual world to express what I cannot express in the real world. I know it speaks volume about me as a person but again that whole experience of writing is to exaggerate and blow things out of proportion for all kinds of literary purposes.

Now, for your serious issues and stuffs which are bothering, itching, killing you. Don’t come to me for professional help or advice. I am not a psychologist, psychiatrist or proctologist!!! (sorry could not resist). Now you come to me as friend and seek my advice, then expect 99% of the time that I will make you laugh about it and will laugh along with you because life is too short to hold grudges and in my medicine book laughter is the best cure.

Now let me be … I have enough shit to deal with as it is.

Letter from a “Candy” fan of mine. Vol. 1.

I received today the following letter from a member of my fan club who happens to be a "Candy".

gitanes legeres said...
Toi qui connais si bien les femmes, "ultimate chick magnet", help me out. please. how do u deal with an annoying, pretentious, useless, vaniteuse, mean and rude candy?
I'm a very pretty, smart, sexy and nice person, with a great career ahead of me. and I don't understand why I'm so damn upset about it. and it's not a man thing. and nothing to do with hormones, just in case u were thinking about mentioning anything related. (my hormones r very well under control and my neurones always fire in total harmony).
thank u dear chick magnet
allah ykhallik ya rab...
fan#001
(I need an answer. I'm seriously pissed off.)

Dear Candy #001:

First let me tell you that you came to the right person with your problem. However, we need to address a few issues, so let's dissect your letter. (Very Dr. Phil like)
First, you shall address me as "Your Holy Magnet" and not "ultimate chick magnet" please reserve such vocabulary to your surfer dude friends.

Now, let's get into the semantics of your letter (I know you are wondering about "semantics" so please look it up in the dictionary - Oh you don't know what that is either !!!....)
Now, usually you should build sentences with a coherent logic (look up coherent) so when you say I am very pretty, smart …. Well here we call this a contradiction in terms and it throws off the whole meaning of the sentence. Now you could be pretty smart (notice the absence of the comma) and meaning intelligent or you could be pretty. The verdict is still not out on the availability of the specie pretty AND smart.

You continue by saying you are sexy and nice, well don’t even go there girlfriend … you are either sweet and nice or sexy and a bitch … the line of compromise here is so thin.

“…with a greater career ahead of me” well if you consider being seen from Thursday to Sunday in Crystal, Concerto, Casino and Igloo a career, then by all means you are overqualified and should be getting an honorary Ph.D.

Now regarding why you are upset about it, because think about it Candy girl, with or without you around nothing will ever change…it is exactly the same, or maybe the gene pool of the population would need a bit less chlorine !!!!

Now, speaking from my experience as an Ex-married man, whenever a woman says: “my hormones are very well under control and my neurones always fire in total harmony”.

You should interpret that statement as follows:

“My hormones are totally fucked up and my neurons are in disarray, you either stay away from me for the next 3 to 6 days or I shall eat your liver with Fava beans (ftftftftftftft – think Hannibal Lechter’s Silence of the Lambs)
So when it is not the hormones, it could be all the Botox, Silicon and other tit & ass friendly chemicals you are injecting in your body to attract Mr. Right, for whom we shall devote a whole post in the coming days.

Now having written that, I shall retire from the blogsphere for a few light years and probably seek to become a hermit since the odds of me getting a date now are quite infinitesimal (is that dictionary still by your side Candy?)

MasterCard Moments (A La Libanaise !!!)

Ordering two dozens Baba-au-Rhum from T-square for a binging fest with your friends: $48
A bottle of Dark Jamaican Rhum to make the binging more interesting: $12
Hurling 24 Baba-au-Rhums at the TV while Fares Soueid, Elias Attalah and Samir Franjieh (1) are holding a press conference: Priceless.

Having a Meza Extra dinner delivered from Diwan Al Sultan: $25
Washing it down with 1.5 Liters of Diet Coke: $1.30
Enjoying the dinner while watching Nayla Mouawad analyze the politics of the region and the fallout of the Iranian nuclear file: Brainless.

Average cost of a parliamentary election campaign: $ 1 Million
Salary of a Lebanese Member of Parliament: $4000
Hearing ANY member of Lebanese Parliament speak about the fight against corruption: Spineless.

Renting a cabriolet car for a day in Beirut: $150
Filling it up with gas: $250 !!!
Getting stuck in traffic near a diesel engine truck with its exhaust right up your nostrils: Breathless.

Calvin Klein Men's Pajamas: $85
A night at a decent Beirut hotel: $150
Claims that sit-in of Lebanese members of parliament broke the Israeli siege: Shameless.

To be continued ....

(1) Attalah & Franjieh are current "enlightened" members of parliament, Soueid on the other hand is an ex-member (Thank God !!!).