The Always & Later Beautifuls

Recently over lunch G & I were discussing what it is about beautiful people that can be relatively lame. We were discussing how few beautiful women are also intelligent, brilliant & warm-hearted. Rather, many of them are vacuous creatures without much to say and with a clear expectation of entitlement. (One friend once said ”The stunning ones are the worst in bed because they expect you to do everything…that’s what they’re used to!”)

I have a theory that I shared then and which I will share with you…

For the most part (& I acknowledge this is a generalization), there are two groups of beautiful people:
(1) The Always Beautiful (born & grew up beautiful); and,
(2) Those Later Beautifuls.

For the Always Beautiful, their characters are formed differently; they possess a different ‘map’ of identity. The one thing we can not deny is that this world is ruled by beauty; for the Always Beautiful, they are generally handed more. They don’t have to struggle as much and are treated quite differently from an early age.

Think of the prettiest girl in your high school. Chances are, she was the most popular and the most liked.

Now think of the nicest girl in your high school. Chances are, she was the smartest and kindest.

Usually, the Always Beautiful peek in high school & university. It’s all down-hill from there. Their characters are built around their physical appearance and once that starts to slip or change or is not as perfect as it once was, their dependency has nowhere to rest. That they come from a place of physical privilege contributes to a weakness of character.

The Later Beautifuls may have been a little awkward in high school, a little geeky in university, a little shy during their first outing into the world of employment. With time and confidence these people morphed into exquisite looking creatures.

For the most part, they have had to work a little bit harder to reach their goals; they’ve had to expend a little more energy in getting that job offer, in finding a boyfriend / girlfriend, in getting your attention in high school, etc.

Their strength of character lies not in their beauty, but their beauty stems from their strength of character. Few of them exist, but when one is found, make sure to hold on to her / him, ‘cus they’re a keeper.

All of the above is written with a clear understanding that humans can not be compartmentalised…unless, of course, you’re of the Hollywood persuasion.

Maha's 35 Things To Do In London

As previously mentioned, T & M are in London at the moment; they leave for Glasgow soon, but I promised them the Maha’s Top 10 Things To Do While in London. Well…it is unconventional and it is fun and it is typically of my taste and imagination. And it’s also newly titled: Maha’s 35 Things To Do In London (so I’m a little long-winded…).

Feel free to follow all 35 should the fancy slap you across the face…Just make certain you tell me about it.

.1. Go down to the City Centre at 7 a.m. and sit at any corner to watch the employment traffic pass by. There is a different pace and feel than North America, and you really should see it at least once.

I dare you to not have a coffee.

.2. On any given morning, and only if it’s raining, visit the Bunhill Fields Cemetery at 38 City Road. The neon green of the growth on the headstones is in direct contrast to the City’s shades of grey. For a place where death sits, it’s filled with colour.

.3. Watch the buskers in Covent Market.

.4. Buy a tanga from Coco de Mer (23 Monmouth St. Phone: 020 7836 8882).

.5. Buy one painfully overpriced vintage piece of clothing from any shop on Monmouth St. (Have sushi while there; there’s a sushi restaurant with a revolving table…very communal and yummy.)

.6. Whenever and wherever possible, eat Caffé Nero’s biscotti. The location I most frequent and which I love is in Covent Garden, at a roundabout at 30 Monmouth St.

When ordering from Nero, recall:
Small, med, large = Small, reg, grande
Take out = Take away
Bowl = Cup

.7. Visit and make fun of the hideous and psychotically overpriced handbags at Bracher Emden (Unit 9G, N17 Studios, 784/792 The High Road. Phone: 0208 801 4967). All of the celebrities purchase these, and they serve as a direct explanation for why these idiots require stylists.

.8. Don't give a shit about Harrod’s.

.9. At the Pret-A-Manger located at the corner of St. Martin & Garreck St, eat a tuna nicoise salad wrap, sit on the bench by the window and people-watch.

.8. Watch a sun rise while seated on the benches atop Primrose Hill. Yawn really loudly while joggers race by. If you see Johnny Lee Miller, give him my mobile number (even if this means you must run after him…). Do tell him am pretty.

.9. Visit Sylvia Plath’s house (3 Chalcut Square). Stand outside and press your face against the window; the current residents of the house look funny when they're scared.

.10. Eat Apricot & Chicken Tagine at The Mediterranean Kitchen (50 St Martin’s Lane). You will go through the roof. While there, attempt to set their menu on fire, as I did. This was an accident but makes for an interesting evening should you be dining alone.

.11. From the Camden Market, buy something bohemian (I bought a patched flower dress) that will only look appealing while you are on vacation. You will never wear it outside of the UK, but will show it to friends and say: “I bought it at Camden.”

If you must buy something to wear, buy a Che t-shirt.

.12. Drop by the Starbuck’s by Camden Locks. Smell the air. ‘Tis putrid.

.13. Buy used jeans from the Stables Market; if you can find it, buy a vintage Charlie’s Angels t-shirt as well (I did!).

.14. See the chandelier at the London Central Mosque. Buy books from their library.

.15. While at Stables, search for the nude mannequin & wheel chair display. It’s so hideous people find it beautiful. (I pointed and laughed.)

Also, visit Velvet Illusion of London, because it’s totally groovy, baby.

.16. Go behind Stables Market; am certain folks are murdered there regularly. Make sure the sun is shining when you go...

.17. Get lost on the tube.

.18. Lunch (I recommend the fillet of bass) at The French House (Soho: 49 Dean St) and then have your dessert at Patisserie Valerie (Soho: 44 Old Compton St). Learn to become comfortable when seated North-American-style-painfully-close-to-people-you-don’t-know.

.19. Pay through your nose and see a movie at the cinema, because really: You don’t need to put your children through university.

.20. At Westminster Abbey, pay tribute to D.H. Lawrence, Lord Byron, Dylan Thomas, Lord Tennyson & Robert Browning. And then recall: You have absolutely no talent compared to these geniuses.

.21. While at Westminster, find the red flag: The Order of the Dragon and try to understand why it broke my heart to see it.

.22. Go to Pall Mall St in the evening and look up at the apartments; the chandeliers that line this street could cover the debt of all 3rd world countries. (My favourite was at 71 Pall Mall St.)

.23. Have a drink at London’s oldest village inn: The Red Lion in Crown Abbey.

.24. Only visit Madame Tussauds to walk through the live serial killer chamber. Do it alone; You will wet yourself, I promise.

.25. Look both ways before you cross the street. Seriously.

.26. Find an Irishman and tell him you prefer the Irish to the Brits; Find a Scotsman and do the same. (Preferably not while they are both at the same table.)

.27. See the statue outside of 8 Pilgrim’s Lane in Hampstead.

.28. While in Hampstead, try not to lose your footing on the cobblestone sidewalks. Have some crepes while there (must purchase from a street vendor!).

.29. While eating fish & chips held together by newspaper, hang out with the Rastafarians at Paddington Market. They’re playing the best music in town.

.30. Also while at Paddington Market, purchase flowers and fabrics. It’s a must; you won’t be able to help yourself because you will be overcome by the colours and lushness of that which surrounds you.

.31. Get on a double decker bus and refuse to sit anywhere but the front seat on the 2nd floor. Make a fuss, if you must, just get that seat. Then, everytime the bus comes to a stop, or rounds a corner, yell “Whoa Nelly!”

.32. Have soup and a sandwich at The Gallery Café by Bethnal Green Station.

.33. Visit with the pelicans at St. James’ Park lake.

.34. From Agent Provocateur, purchase a bra to match your Coco de Mer tanga.

.35. Think of me.

Pouting Mahi Mahi

.1. I’ve just been told that I pout. Something about this strikes me as funny; I never thought I was the sort to pout, but rather, the sort to deal with something and…just deal with it…instead of letting it fester to the point of pouting.

Perhaps this new found talent of mine will come in handy some day. If it does, I will let you know immediately.

I really do wish this person had taken a picture of me pouting, as am terribly interested if it is a good look for me.

.2. My girls T & M are off to London this day. They are heading there for a little party and I’ve promised to present them with the list titled: Maha’s Top 10 Things To Do While In London. First, I must compile it. When it is completed, I will blog my bit for your eyes as well.

There are certain things which are a staple of a London trip…no matter how old or young, intelligent or imbecilic one might be, these tips should be adhered to at all times. Without a doubt, London is one of the few cities to which I would move in a heartbeat; since I was a little girl and we spent my first few summers there, I’ve had a long-standing love affair with that City.

Occasionally, I have an illicit affair with NYC, but I don’t let London in on that…

.3. Mama’s been gone a little over a week now and I think this trip has been good for both her and I. She’s doing very well and enjoying her time with the family immensely.

.4. There are ‘friendships’, and then, there are friendships. One of my favourite quotes comes from Eleanor Roosevelt (shut up!), and it is: “Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart.”

One of the very few who have already left well-heeled (& often times well-booted) footprints in my heart is Baby J. She lives and works in Toronto and last I saw her was during TIFF; we spent the weekend meeting interesting actors, shopping, eating, sitting on her balcony and having the most insane and lively conversations until all hours of the night / morning.

For the last few months, certain affairs have kept us from contacting as often as we both would like…

Last night, we managed to squeeze in an approximate one hour conversation, trying desperately to make it through the details of our last 3.5 months apart. We highlighted the most critical life-events and managed some time for analysis. Rather efficient, considering the dense topic of conversation.

I miss her often, and she is the only one to whom I dedicate an entire evening of letter-writing.

She will always remain the first to have nicknamed me “Hawaiian fish”.

A Family Secret

Although quite rare, I find myself at a loss lately and I feel obligated to type something out. Anything, really, so here goes...

.1. Kul 3am w2intu bkheir. Happy Eid!

.2. I have a new Egyptian celebrity crush, but I’ve already forgotten his name. I must remember quick, before another woman scoops him up and marries him…am still recovering from my former and inaugural Arab celebrity love interest: Tamer Hagras (the betrayal of it all!).

.3. Am considering going to Dubai & Gaza this coming summer; thinking of taking six weeks off work and splitting my time between the two areas. I miss my family dearly and feel as though I’ve been away for much too long. Shall keep you posted on this.

Horrible, really. Most especially because I promised myself I would not travel anywhere for 12 months (notwithstanding: Denver, Montreal & Toronto). By summer, it’ll have been approximately seven months, so this is really quite good of me. I will deserve a holiday by that time.

.4. I love receiving Holiday greetings in the mail. Am an old fashioned sort of girl and treasure the written word. Although we’re well into January, I received another card today. How exciting! I’ve not opened it yet; have decided to save it for my morning read over herbal tea tomorrow…

.5. A Female Family Secret: We don’t use cleansers to remove eye makeup. Rather, olive oil. Trust me & try it. Only remember to not smear too much olive oil on to the cotton, or else your eyes will be foggy for quite some time. And it’s also best to keep and use a separate towel, as olive oil doesn’t wash off with water, and so your skin will be extra soft…but your small face towel will have light smudges of olive oil on it (no makeup, though!).

.6. Sorry have not been more entertaining as of late…

Through A Lense

While volunteering with UNRWA 3 summers back in the Palestinian Territories, I managed a few days out on the Mediterranean coastline in Gaza.

I was having a completely shit day (something that happens all too often while there) and decided to haul myself down to the coast, because water has a way of calming me. Besides, it’s easier to cry when you’re alone.

I was such a mess, I used to cry myself to sleep on a nightly basis while I was volunteering, and it took me a long time to recover when I came back to Canada. Although it was an incredible experience, I came back shell-shocked and heart broken by what I saw; I was completely broken up by the fact that I was lucky enough to leave. Really. What a mess.

So. I took this photo. Through the lens, it didn't look like this; there wasn't that sun shining through the clouds. It's since become one of my favourite photos and I came across it while cleaning my baby mac...thought I'd share it with you pretties.

Mama

The saying “Paradise is at the feet of mothers” is rooted in the following:

A man asked the Prophet Mohammed whether he should fight in a war. To this, the Prophet asked if the man’s mother was still alive. When the man answered that she was indeed still alive, the Prophet responded with "(Then) stay with her, for Paradise is at her feet.”

I have just come home from saying goodbye to my mother. She’ll be in the Gaza Strip for the next month, and I already miss her so much it’s almost unbearable.

There’s no person on this earth who could provide me the sort of calm, kindness, shelter and warmth that my mother can. I hate that I won’t be able to crawl into bed with her when I’m too tired to fall asleep alone…

She is the only one who knows my darkest secrets and thoughts, the only one I fear to disappoint, the only one I would kill to protect. She’s also the only one who has never ridiculed even the most ridiculous of my feelings…and she’s never once not forgiven me for the most unforgivable actions.

There have been fights, yelling matches, angry words, threats and all of the usual suspects that make up a relationship of 31 years. But. Everything I am is because of her and the mere thought of losing her, breaks me.

I don’t want this to be a sad blog entry, and so I will share a funny scenario which occurred as I was driving her to her destination earlier this day. She recently acquired a global mobile phone (for safety while she is crossing the Rafah border into Gaza) that she’s still learning how to use.

She sat in the car and explained how she was having trouble accessing her voicemail. I asked her to walk me through the steps she followed in order to retrieve her messages. When the “voicemail lady” asked her for her P.I.N. number, my mother started chattering into the phone. For a full second, I had no idea what she was doing, until I realised that she was under the misimpression that she had to say her P.I.N. number out loud, rather than actually key it into the mobile. I was laughing so hard I nearly crashed my car…

She’s an incredible woman. Not to mention an absolutely (& sickeningly so) stunning woman. This photo was taken when she was my age (her eyes are a very unique shade of pale green that I’ve not seen on anyone else):


…they took this photo of me on the same day:


In case you’re wondering: We still make a good looking couple…heh.

If you’re interested in reading more…

& thanks to my Fiery M for the inspiration