This is a photo of Sarah and I taken a couple of Fridays back. She lives here and so I was terribly excited to hang out with one of my fans. It always makes me feel great to give back to the little people who’ve made me the Celebrity that I am. Also, I’m full of sh*t.

Isn’t she beautiful?

Apart from the completely “random” (thanks, Sarah) Agenda of the evening, I had the pleasure of meeting one of the Middle East’s biggest celebrities, Fathi Abdel Wahab. He recently worked with my personal favourite – Tamer Hagras – but I thought it uncouth to ask him about Tamer’s marriage and whether he would entertain exercising his right to marry more than one woman recent body of work.

At the beginning of the party and before either of these pictures were taken, I’d had a slight break from reality. Nothing like it had ever happened before and so it was difficult for me to comprehend. Within a heartbeat, I found myself sitting at the table with zero level of patience or tolerance. I didn’t want to speak with anyone, I didn’t have the patience to answer questions, make small talk, tell people how my French language training was going, how Beirut was, or what I do at work. It was a first for me, this incapacity to make polite chatter and respond in kind when people were being courteous.

I’ve always prided myself on being diplomatic in the most extreme and difficult of circumstances, but I had no capacity for that on this particular evening. All I wanted to do was get up and walk out of the party because I felt as though I was suffocating and for a good half an hour, I was in my own head talking myself out of getting up and leaving. During one particular moment, I couldn’t remain seated and so instead, I went to the washroom and cried. I sat in one of the toilette stalls and balled my eyes out for a good ten minutes. Lucky that no one came in while I was there, lucky that I don’t wear make-up and lucky still that I can cry for hours and you’ll never be able to see it on my face.

Nanno had died exactly one week past, the wake had been three days prior and another ‘glitch’ had occurred only five days before that moment. It had been a relatively heavy week and my heart took the brunt of it that Friday evening.

Eventually, I cooled off and returned to the main hall where I slowly came back to reality. The ‘situation’ only lasted about an hour and the rest of the evening was an absolute riot filled with a lot of laughter, good food, intelligent conversation and dancing. It was a rare evening of emotional extremes which taught me that sometimes – although rare – it’s best to go to the ladies room alone.