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Stories from Lebanon

I love hearing from all of you and I hope that February is treating you well so far! See you on the new page!

I miss you, friends.

As predicted I have failed to upload a picture everyday. But this was an active decision on my part because a) I imagine it would greatly annoy you to have a post a day and b) I know it would greatly annoy me to have to take a picture everyday. Plus who am I kidding, I don't know how to take pictures. But I do know how to blab on for a long amount of time about ridiculous situations, so there you have it.

Not much to update on, but has that ever stopped me? I have officially been here for over two months now and feel comfortable in saying that there are certain things* in the States I will miss for the entire duration of my trip. (How long do I have to stay here before this isn't considered a trip anymore?)

*Things exclude my family and my friends, so don't be cheeky and leave me a comment that says, "What about MEH?" I miss you, okay?

A list of what (not who) I miss:
-my Macbook (I didn't bring it with me because I thought there would be power outage issues, only to come find that everyone in Lebanon has a Macbook.)
-my car
-In n Out
-fast internet
-actually, working internet
-Yelp/Google Maps/a reliable directory
-the little thing called road law enforcement
-the $2 movie theater in Pasadena
-privacy
-having my goals taken seriously instead of just "Oh, you got a job? Good, fill your time, have fun."
-American standards of beauty (believe me if you think it's harsh in the USA you have no idea)

Now that I look at that list I sort of love the unreliability of Lebanon, too. It's gotten me to really depend on myself and step outside of my comfort zone, and I think those are the situations I'm learning from the most. And although I am experiencing degrading attitudes towards women and their roles, I just try to tell myself that it's all a learning experience and that this is a different culture with a different set of standards, so it wouldn't be fair for me to judge them. That's after I tell myself to hold my tongue, which really takes 150% of my energy.

When I die I want it to be known that I was a fair person. (Also a genius supermodel, charitable to the poor and schmoozy with the rich, and that I danced like a gazelle harmonious with nature.) So--

An ever growing list of what I know I will miss about Lebanon when I leave:
-Do I even have to say it? Shawarma.
-Also knafeh, fresh zaatar, Teta's homemade anything, basically all the food I have eaten here. (Except for sheep testicle. It may have been fine except that it was really soft and I just couldn't really take the idea that I was eating a mushy testicle. When I explained this to my grandma she said it was soft because the sheep hadn't taken Viagra. All in all it was a horrifying experience.)
-Easily being able to navigate the city without a car
-Sitting on the veranda drinking mate
-Instant coffee that's actually delicious
-Having my Turkish coffee cup read (And getting the same fortune each time: "Oh, what a beautiful cup! You are going to get married very soon!" Really? How interesting.)
-Being related to an entire village of people (Note: this relates to "privacy" on previous list.)
-The artistic and progressive vibe of Hamra
-The abundance of cafes with individuality (and working/fast internet!)
-watching a movie with two sets of subtitles (Quite distracting, but I think I'm now fluent in French)
-A stranger going out of their way to help in every situation
-Being in an acoustic room with 20+ family members on a regular basis
-Did I already mention shawarma?

I know once I settle in more and make friends the list will be even longer. Speaking of which, why don't I have friends again?

Well, it's Saturday night and I'm sitting in my room typing this so I think we've solved that mystery. But am I supposed to go out alone? Making friends is for 13-year-old girls who change schools, not for a 22-year-old who has already put in so much time and effort to maintain friendships from each of her life experiences! I know, I know, you're never too old to learn from others and get to know new people and welcome them into your life and blah blah blah. But I don't know how to do this without school. It's hard and I'm lazy. Why can't all my friends just move here?

Well, that's all the bibble babble for now. And that's pibble pabble for all you English speakers.

Picture 2: Abandoned Window

(I'm not sure about this picture-a-day deal. Won't that annoy you?)

Picture 1: Downtown Nargilehs

State of the Union Address

Salam! I am running out of creative ways to begin each entry. I feel like I'm a teenager getting ready for her first date in front of the mirror. “Hi! No, that's boring. Greetings! What, is this the 19th century? Hello, friends! Oh, dear God.” Maybe from now on I will just start the entry without an introduction. Okay let's try again.

Salam! (I can't do it.) Hope this entry finds you doing well wherever you are reading it. Lebanon continues to be fantastic. In a little over a week I will be moving into an apartment with two girls my age. My room is huge and lovely and has its own balcony overlooking the streets of Hamra, which I believe I have already told you is really the coolest place to be. Living with my grandma has been great but I think that I need to surround myself with people my age and be able to really be on my own and support myself with my own resources to be truly happy and successful here. She's staying in Beirut for the winter though and I'll see her all the time, I know she'll make sure of that.

I can't believe I've been here for nearly two months. And in two months I've come really far. I found a job and a place to live. My Arabic has really improved. And I'm able to navigate Beirut pretty effortlessly. But the only reason I've gotten so much is because my family made the transition here so much easier. I really can not explain how amazing they are. Yesterday one of the Fates invited us over to dinner and some of her lineage was there. There were over twenty people crowding into this small Beiruti apartment, and at one point I looked around and thought, “I'm so lucky. Look at all I have to be thankful for. And it's so delicious, so filling. I really do love all this food.” Yes, I also love my family. But let's get our priorities straight.

I am most proud of the fact that I am enjoying delicious shawarma and I'm still not married. The first doesn't take much effort but the second let me assure you is quite the challenge. If I'm not careful, I could wake up tomorrow morning with a ring on my finger and a baby in my belly that doesn't just kick but does the dabke. In a blink of an eye I could be in the kitchen screaming out, “Rikka! Rikka! Where is the parsley?” Stand strong, live strong, and always be vigil.

I went into work for my “preliminary briefing” yesterday. I actually am the President of Lebanon. Michel Suleiman is just a puppet put in place by me and my staff to insure public morale stays high. I, as I was preliminarily briefed yesterday, really hold the power that comes with all the preliminary briefings and secondary briefings and post briefings and so on. I won't be able to talk much about it here, seeing as how the preliminary briefings are actually preliminary confidential briefings that I can not brief you on. But I can say that the responsibilities entrusted to me will be handled most seriously and Lebanon will be well taken care of in my reign. Yes, I am Queen now. No. King.

Can I just say, this blog has taken a strange and completely unplanned direction. I assure you, when I created it, I meant to give you a solid idea of what it is like to live in Lebanon. I meant to write sentences like, “The mountains rise high above the cedars and the snow outlining the tops blends in with the ethereal clouds of the heavens.” But I haven't really given you sensible descriptions of anything that I've seen, have I? Have you gotten a true idea of what my experience has been like so far? Or is it just me rambling on about being King of Lebanon? What does that have to do with anything?

Anyway, as I was saying, the preliminary briefings went well. I was given a huge desk in the office because I will be doing a lot of copyediting, a decision they made based on the three copyediting courses I took through UCSD Extension. Thank God those courses came to some use. Otherwise I'm just the nerd who paid to practice grammar. I have a few projects that sound really exciting as well. Basically I will be in charge of international marketing and distribution. I will be finding ways to market titles to the Lebanese diaspora, especially those who live in English speaking territories. I'm not sure how I am qualified to do this, but I'm sure that's what every President says before he takes his oath. And my boss said that after I feel settled I am free to suggest any endeavor I'd like to pursue. This is great news seeing as how my presidential platform was, “Lots of endeavors, so little freedom to suggest them!” It will be a great sixty-four year term, ladies and gentleman.

See? What is this, really?

Because I feel like you're not getting a true grasp of the sights, I have decided I will begin to post a picture a day here in this blog. A 365-day goal that I can almost guarantee will not work because I am Lebanese by nature and will say, “Yes, of course!” and really mean “Maybe, we'll see.” But I was always raised on the principle of honesty, so I will say that if I don't post a picture a day then I am not the President of Lebanon!

I also want to update this more frequently with tidbits or descriptions. Make this a real blog. Not some self-indulgent comedic guinea pig. Maybe, we'll see.

FAQs -- First Edition

Good evening Americans, I am coming to you live from rainy Beirut. Unless you're reading this after I post it, in which case it is pre-typed. Hope you're all doing well and surviving your own rainy weather.

I finally got tired of avoiding the rain and ventured out to the mall today. I took a taxi from the mall back home and the bearded yet balding driver took one look at me and said in broken English, “Where are you from?” I've taken dozens of taxis at this point and there has not been one taxi driver that hasn't asked me this question.

I said in Arabic, “How do you know I'm not Lebanese?” He chuckled, which apparently was an appropriate response. The silence continued until I finally said, “America. How did you know that?”

“Your face.”

“My face? My face is American? Both my parents are Lebanese, how is my face not Lebanese?”

He said, “It's just different.”

A few moments of silence while I pondered this new information. Apparently if you raise a child in a different country their face will be from that country, even though genetically they are not. What does an American face look like, I wonder? Fat? Is my face fat?

“Ah, America!” he suddenly exclaimed. “I lived there for a few years. In Michigan! Where are you from?”

“California.”

“Ah! We're neighbors!”

Whatever, just get me where I want to go neighbor. I then wished to revisit my purchases and make sure that I got the correct change, although it's silly to do it in the taxi on the way home because what would I do if they didn't give me the correct change? It's a self-satisfaction sort of thing, I guess. So I stopped talking to him. And he started fidgeting with his own front seat objects so I assumed he didn't want to talk to me anymore either. Wrong.

“See! Look!” He pulled out his Michigan driver's license and began to flail it around the back seat while still attempting to skirt around cars driving too slow.

“Oh, wow. Michigan, that's great!” I said. “Lots of Lebanese in Michigan.” Dear God please stop swerving this car, how in the hell did they issue that license to you anyway?

“Yeah, you say hello to anyone and they greet you with 'Marhaba!'” To which he again chuckled wholeheartedly. It was now that I noticed he was missing a tooth and I couldn't believe anyone could fit the stereotype of an Arab taxi driver more than he until he said the following.

“What are you doing in Lebanon?”

“Oh, just getting to know the family.”

“Oh, yeah? How old are you?”

“22.”

“Oh, so are you getting to know your family or are you looking for a husband?”

Did I just hear correctly? What is this country where a woman over the age of twenty is strange when her immediate life goals do not include a man, a child, or an apron?

“Getting to know my family.” I said.

“No husband?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I'm too young.”

He scoffed this time. Well, aren't you a treat Mr. Taxi Man. He then said, “Surely, you want to get married.”

I almost said, “No, and don't call me Shirley,” but I don't think he would have laughed and that would have annoyed me more than I was already annoyed so I just settled with, “No, I really don't.”

“Doesn't your family want you to get married?”

“Yep, they do.”

“I think you will.”

“Okay, thanks, you can drop me off here.”

When he pulled over he gave me a big toothless smile and said, “Whenever you want to go anywhere you give me a call, I will take you anywhere because you are American and you are my neighbor.” And then he drove off without giving me his name or number. I stood there for a few seconds trying to figure out if that really just happened until I realized it was still pouring and my American face was freezing.

It almost frustrates me that I'm not being recognized as Lebanese. When I arrived here and the airport official looked at my Lebanese card and asked me, "Are you Lebanese?" I was so confused. Wasn't he looking at proof that I was? It's frustrating because I wanted to come get the experience of what it is like to live in Lebanon but I feel like I'm getting special treatment. Is this the fate of an Arab American? Never regarded as a full American but never treated as an Arab?

This is off topic but I would like to share a conversation happening this very moment between my grandmother and the maid, Rikka, who is not acting crazy anymore and stayed with us. She is trying to learn Arabic by asking my grandmother to translate phrases in English.

Rikka: I'm hungry.
Teta: You are hungry? Go eat.
Rikka: No, no. Arabic. I'm hungry.
Teta: You're angry?
Rikka: No! Hungry!
Teta: Oh, jaani.
Rikka. Jaani.
Teta: Go eat!

If you've ever wondered what Abbot and Costello would say if they were Arab then there you go.

Anyway, I have been getting a lot of similar questions from my friends about my experience so I decided to include a FAQs (frequently asked questions) entry because that is just how generous I am.

Q: Are you married yet?
A: No. But my grandmother whispers on the phone quite frequently about who was very impressed by me and who was asking about me and who was actually there just to meet me and I didn't know and don't dare tell me. She actually believes I don't realize what is going on here? (You hear that Mom and Dad and Aunt Layla? I know what she says when she's talking to you.) I'm not the type of girl who thinks that all the boys are after me but when you change seats three times and the same 32-year-old man sits next to you and asks you questions like, “So, what do you do? Where did you go to school? Isn't Los Angeles a desert?” then you can sort of figure it out. But I quickly channeled Elizabeth Bennet and spoke to him with detached class. Actually, I ran away whenever I saw him, so I think he got the point. Maybe he can spread the rumor that I'm a snobby and picky American who thinks she's too good to marry anyone, which I really wouldn't mind at all.

Q: How are women treated there?
A: I have not felt like I couldn't do something or go somewhere because of my gender, and for the most part, no man has made me feel uncomfortable or demeaned. Actually, the men here are quite respectful, especially when they can tell you aren't from Lebanon, which is apparently obvious in my case. Don't get me wrong, there is still a long way to go for gender equality. One of the bigger issues is domestic abuse. If a husband hits his wife it is not considered a crime. So basically a man can do whatever he pleases in his own home and there really wouldn't be anyone to tell him otherwise. And there are still hardly any women in government or religious roles. But I'm not a sociologist or gender expert so I'm not going to start analyzing that. I can just talk about my own experience, which is that the people who make me most uncomfortable about me being an independent woman are women. I have heard the phrase “she acts like a man” more times than I can count from my older female relatives, the television, even sometimes peers my age. And we already know how people react when I dare to say I don't want to get married. I'm sure they're talking about me behind my back, but I really don't care. When your family is Lebanese then someone will always be talking about you. But they'll talk about you less if you follow these rules:

1. Always have your hair and nails done. Do not put your hair up in a ponytail, this is messy. And do not step outside without make up on, people will think you don't care about yourself.
2. Make sure your eyebrows are always shaped. Try to get them tattooed, the more unnatural they look the more Lebanese your face will seem to taxi drivers. And remember, men don't want to marry a woman with a mustache.
3. Avoid the following masculine activities: hiking, camping, anything to do with nature that could possibly upset your hair or make up. The bare elements will bring out your bare elements, and Allah forbid anyone see your lips do not really have a dark red lining. (You can get that tattooed as well.)
4. Do not tempt men with too much thigh or cleavage. But also do not wear plain clothing that doesn't show off your body in a tasteful way. We're not in the stone ages, after all.
5. Don't be fat. But don't be skinny. Strive to be as beautiful as the images you see on television. But have a healthy body image!
6. Don't smoke, drink, or stay out too late. Don't let the neighbors see you come home late, especially if a man is dropping you off. After all it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single Arab man in possession of a mediocre fortune must be in want of a virgin.

Q: Is it diverse in Lebanon?
A: The first thing I noticed when I got here was that there sure are a lot of Arabs. So, no, not really. There are a few hip, young white people strolling about either studying abroad or traveling, mostly European. Most of the diversity comes from the working class who as I have already said come from South Asia and the Philippines.

Q: Do they speak English?
A: The Lebanese people have an unbelievable talent for languages. Most can speak Arabic, French and English. But I have never seen a country with such an identity crisis. They sing Happy Birthday first in English, then in Arabic, and then in French. And the poor kid just wants to make his wish and eat the cake already. Sorry kid, you can't have your gateau and eat it too. When they answer the phone they say, “Bonjour,” when you do them a favor they say, “Merci,” when they hang up the phone they say, “Bye.” There are a lot of complicated reasons for a lack of a Lebanese identity, which in my opinion is the root of all of Lebanon's problems. Maybe that is their identity, that they are Western and Arab all in one and that they are separated and united all in one. And I use the word “united” loosely. But that does not have to do with speaking English. Yes, they speak English.

Q: What's the hardest thing to get used to?
A: Well, I have quickly come to realize that Lebanese people are the same everywhere and that if you are raised in a Lebanese household you will not be shocked by the characteristics that could make Lebanese people a little bit, um, shocking. I am not afraid when someone who went to school with my grandmother's brother's middle son's cousin's neighbor's wife kisses me on the cheeks and hugs me too close to their old man armpits. I am not afraid when I see a table full of food and a chunky widow coming at me with a spoonful of tabbouleh. Quite the contrary. But they can be really frank about things that Lebanese Americans don't say because they have come to understand American faux paus. Such as they will call you fat, say your clothes don't look good, ask who you voted for, ask how much money you make, what your religion is, how much your house costs, why you're not married, if you're interested in a nose job, etc. etc. They're not trying to be rude, these things just aren't considered private matters here. Luckily most of the above has not been directed towards me because I think my family and friends are literally afraid of scaring me off. Except the nose job. That one was from my grandmother. What I simply can't get used to though is their lack of structure. They're really flaky. Again, they don't mean to be rude. Their way of life is, “Relax. No problem.” Which can explain why there are a lot of problems.

Q: How do Lebanese people feel about Americans?
A: As mentioned in a previous entry and which I'm sure you have memorized as you should everything I say, my grandmother is famous for remembering birthdays. Once she was rattling off every family member who had a birthday in December and she proudly said, “I'm pretty good at birthdays.” Her sister said, “Pretty good? Sister, I'm sure you know Bush's birthday.” In short, they don't like Bush. Sr. and Jr. And other than that I can't possibly tell you because Lebanese people are so divided in their opinions that I'm not even sure I can tell you how they feel about Lebanon. From what I've deciphered, they are generally positive about President Obama although they think he can be more daring when it comes to the Middle East. They think Americans are capitalists whose lives revolve around making money, and I'm not sure how wrong they are about that one. This apparently explains why I want to work and not get married. They like Baskin Robbins. They also love the movie 2012. Like really, really love it.

This entry is becoming extremely long so I will call this the first edition of FAQs and when I receive more questions I will update it. Although I'm sure this has all been so thorough that you could not possibly have any more doubts as to what Lebanon is really about. Why does everyone say summarizing the Middle East is so complicated?

Anyway, I start my job February 1st and I am quite excited! I go in on Monday for a “preliminary briefing”, which makes it sound like I'm the President and that is awesome. Finally, getting a little responsibility around here. I thought my American face and capitalist need for money would have gotten me a job sooner than this.

I've had a really homesick past few weeks and I miss you all so much. Please avoid tornadoes as I hear they may come visit you in Southern California and please also have an amazing rest of your week.

Yay!

Pending satisfactory references and a three-month trial period, I am now employed! The publishing company I mentioned in the last entry wishes to try me out as an editorial and marketing assistant. I so professionally and composedly say--YAY!

The money isn't anything to write home about, but I guess I am writing home right now so maybe it is something to write home about? Anyway, I didn't come to Lebanon to strike it rich but to gain an invaluable experience I can take with me back to the States, and I'm very excited to say that helping Lebanese writers would really be a challenging and unforgettable opportunity. Also, Turning Point shares their floors with film distributors from Paramount and NBC and the employees are all very close. I'm sure those contacts will come in very handy as well as be awesome people to talk to in general. In the end, money is money, and, as Teta would say, "You can't take it with you!" I start February 1st, which is very exciting. My Lebanese life is rolling along at full speed and I am loving it.

Exploring the neighborhoods of Beirut is exciting since this Yelp-less, directory-less land is sort of like uncharted territories. I am Columbus and this is India, I am Ponce de Leon and this is the Caribbean, I am Sir Frances Drake and this is the world.

Wow, that took a lot of googling.

Anyway, I am excited as well because a few friends of mine are planning on visiting towards the summertime. I am so happy to be spreading the beauty of Lebanon to people who may not otherwise find it on their own. If you have been reading this blog and have fallen in love with this land through the beauty and glory emanating from the words of gold I present you (and let's face it, how can you not?), then you are more than welcome to come visit as well. We can be explorers together!

Another quick update: there has been quite the Bangladeshi-maid drama here at home. I try to be compassionate because she left her family to work for their wages and lives in a country where she has no cultural or familial connection. My grandma and I try to treat her like a member of the family and make her feel at home. But this b is crazy! She starts muttering prolonged and repeated phrases, almost like she's chanting, and then she gets a phone call and explodes in screams and tears. I'm sure she has not left out any Bangladeshi curse word in her screams at my grandma, who has treated her with the utmost kindness and respect. Anger exudes from her eyeballs and burns a hole through my stomach to where I'm sure she can see the shawarma I ate for lunch jumping back up my throat at her look. I keep asking her why she's mad to which she responds by sending me laserbeam glares.

She's leaving on Sunday because my grandma is actually starting to feel a little threatened. I have to keep reminding myself of her unfortunate position, but I think she put a curse on me, every time I leave my room I trip on nothing. This may make me a horrible person, but I'd rather be a horrible person than maybe end up murdered, so I'm okay with that.

Finally:

Dear NBC,

Are you crazy?

Love,

Team Conan, Lebanon Chapter


A very non-yay edit: my heart and thoughts are with the people of Haiti. You can help in the relief effort by texting "HAITI" to 90999 to donate just $10 to Red Cross relief efforts. If you'd prefer to donate online or by mail, here are some other ways to help:

Red Cross
Doctors Without Borders
Mercy Corps

Happy new year!

I know I'm a little late, but you'll have to forgive me. You see—Lebanese people are always late. But happy new year nonetheless and I hope that the first week of 2010 has brought you all good things. I haven't updated in a while because I haven't had internet access, but today I am officially connected (JOY TO THE WORLD!). So expect more frequent updates from your Arab-influenced friend.

A lot has happened to me and although I would like to take you on a detailed and thorough adventure through the past few weeks, I know that you, unlike me, may actually have a job and somewhere to be. Or you probably don't really care. So I'll give you a brief summary.

Mountain life, although filled with funny anecdotes about the electricity and the cold, quickly turned limiting as I realized I was seeing the same pair of 80-year-old women every day. Don't get me wrong, these women are feisty and fun, and I definitely put the jabal in the “horizon broadening experience” category, but when the heater stopped working in my room I quickly turned to my grandmother and said, “Please get me out of here.” She finally agreed to move into this apartment in Beirut a few days earlier than planned when she realized she was seeing the same 22-year-old every day and unlike herself, this 22-year-old was neither feisty nor fun.

As we were getting ready to move, we made a trip up to a nearby city to pick up a few things. In true mountain fashion, it started to pour. The road back was literally rocky and curvy, and with the rain it was even harder to navigate. But my grandma had been handing me the keys lately so that I could practice driving. I was so proud of myself, driving in Lebanon! If you can drive in Lebanon, you can drive anywhere!, they say. Well, I guess I can't drive anywhere, because I came around a bend and suddenly the wheels wouldn't turn, and the car wouldn't stop. I felt the car sliding in the water, towards the edge of the road. Naturally I did what any competent and adept driver would do and rammed into the monster tires of an 18-wheel truck. After the initial impact, I turned in shock to my grandmother in the passenger seat. I was blubbering, “Are you okay?” and she was blabbering “Are you okay?” so in short we were both okay. I turned around to check on my mother's sister-in-law and saw her sprawled across the backseat. I had a mini-heart attack, but when she sat up, her glasses diagonal on her face, and said “I bumped my toe”, I nearly passed out in relief. Everyone is fine, and we are really lucky. I know this kind of accident could happen anywhere, but I'm playing the newcomer card and just taking taxis from now on.

The new year was spent in my cousin's house turned nightclub where my mom's cousin kept serving me cranberry vodkas much to the displeasure of my grandmother who thought it was straight whiskey and kept feeding me bread-based foods. We waited for the countdown and then 5 minutes before midnight I guess all the old people got tired and said “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” and the hugging commenced, the confetti dropped, and then everyone left. I said, “What?”, shrugged, and sipped my cranberry vodka.

A few days later we moved to Downtown Beirut, which is an amazing location. There are remnant's of Beirut and Lebanon's past all over the city but there is a spirit of life here that I can't describe, tainted but positive, sectarian but helpful. Each neighborhood really deserves its own entry, so I'll keep this short and just say that it's phenomenal and I love Beirut already.

A few days ago, I interviewed with a great English publishing house here in Beirut for an editorial assistant position. If I get the job I would be helping them with a few projects and then pick up and develop projects on my own. I would also get the opportunity to travel with them to international book fairs as well as other Middle Eastern countries! Helping Lebanese and Arab authors get their words read and their voices heard is a very personal dream come true, so I was very excited when they called me yesterday for a second interview. Here's hoping! I'm also still looking to get involved in the film scene here but I think for now I'll see what opportunities present themselves in the field. There's really no industry here so to find an actual position is pretty difficult. And I'd rather work in publishing, which I also love, than work in television, which I don't plan to pursue and really don't have too high of an interest in at this point. So hopefully this progress will continue, but until then I've really been just trying to enjoy my time with my family and get to know the city, which is a person to get to know itself.

That's pretty much it from this side of the world. The news here keeps saying that Israel is planning to attack Lebanon in May, to which I respond by saying, “Crap.” Cool it Middle East, I'm here now. But other than that possibility I'm seeing a very bright and amazing 2010 up ahead.

For you that is. I'm just trying to stay out of war.

Hope you're all doing well! And again, happy new year!