Friday, 23 September 2016
Love life: No update for you on this front I am afraid but my soulmate is out there, pushing a door that says pull, I just know it, so until such times as sub-zero temperatures in hell, I shall hold on to my
virginity sanity – thank you very much.
My period – still flowing like the red river of doom with cramps that could push a baby elephant out, and that’s ok, because it means I am healthy and young and it means I can always complain about period pain and make people uncomfortable until such times they get over themselves.
My hair – still curly – I refuse to straighten it to look more corporate or more European or mainstream. It’s not a statement, it’s not rebellious and it’s not crazy, it’s just my hair.
It’s all about me.
Friday, 10 June 2016
Many people don’t have a lot of memories of previous Ramadans, except for the distinct and unhappy recollection of hunger, thirst and the long hours of deprivation. But nothing else is noteworthy, nothing else seems to happen in this month, especially when you (not me) spend it horizontally for over ten hours a day!
Last year, was a different story, last Ramadan was a memorable one (not in a good way), last Ramadan Israel was repeatedly bombing Gaza, and as the war in Syria raged on, a gunman opened fire on tourists on a beach in Tunisia (the choice of events and countries is not calculated), the whole world went through the summer in a state of shock, anger, protest and gloom.
This year a lesser disaster is looming, but a disaster nonetheless, England will most probably brexit, during Ramadan…bringing a wave of changes to the whole world and I suspect a lasting memory!
As I cast my vote today (guess which way I voted) I couldn’t help but think of all the things trivial and important that will happen, all the changes, I think of how bored Nigel Farage would be, how it’ll transpire that Boris Johnson is actually Donald Trump’s long lost sibling, probably a brother from another mother, I think about how rude the French are going to be to us when we go on holiday to France (by us I mean Brits not Algerians – they already surpassed their tolerance towards us Algerians), croissants and baguettes will be sold on the black market, Cheese smugglers will rival human smugglers and so many more...I can't bear to think about it!
But I strain to think of how this will affect Algerians and I find nothing! Nothing affects Algerians really, we will survive whatever tidal wave this Brexit will bring on, for now it’s none of our concern though, our imminent concern is the source of the next chorba* and bourek* and where we’ll spend the summer drinking and lazing in the sun after all this observance! Spain or Cuba? whichever doesn't require a visa ...
For now though, up to day 5 and on a more egocentric level...
Energy levels – stable, Sleeping patterns: all over the place, Food ingested: not enough, Water drunk: too much, Days to next period: too many
Dz-chick….for now it’s about breakfast not Brexit
Wednesday, 8 June 2016
I understand now why they feed us so much on long haul flights, what else are you going to do!
Ramadan in the office is business as usual; incessant yawning and looking at the clock, always accompanied by the ever annoying question “what, not even water?” of course we covered all of these questions in the many Ramadan posts from previous years so I am not going to get into this again but my answer tends to be the same “nope, just air”.
Of course when you’re observing Ramadan, you get extra horny, extra bad thoughts and you can’t even blame it on the devil because presumably he’s kept at bay during this holy month. So you live with the fact you might be a pervert, who gets pervier when hungry. Almost like Hunger and Thirst weren't enough..
Anywho, if I have the inspiration, I will write something actually meaningful tomorrow
Dz-Chick ...so far, not digging it
Tuesday, 26 January 2016
As I look around my place, all I see are unfinished projects, half-finished decorating, half-finished painting resting on the radiator, yellowing from the heat, the faint shape of the women seem to shrivel even her breasts are drooping
In the corner gathering dust sit a couple of musical instruments, staring at me, chords sticking out like guts spilling out, at least I mastered Frere Jacques and they make for interesting conversations like do you play? NOPE.
Book plots, blogs and essays squiggled on pieces of paper dispersed on my desk, gathering dust, the ink smudged in places and the paper yellowing from different beverages that were spilled on them. Some stories have never even left the confines of my imagination; they just sit there waiting for instructions that won’t come, I promised them …someday!
In the cupboard, half-finished treatments and courses of anti-biotic from my hypochondriac days…all half-finished and expired, even as I look down, I see only one of my legs is waxed because the last time I had to bare my thunder thighs, my skirt only had one opening and I frankly couldn’t be bothered to go on with this charade that is waxing! But I stand by my choice, it’s both logical and economical and in no way lazy.
Come to think of it, even my dreams are cut-short, I always wake up before the “climax”, I never seem to stop running and get to where I am supposed to get, I always think I can get some amazing fantastica novel from my stupid dreams, if only they’d finish…
My procrastination list goes on, sadly my desire to finish anything doesn’t, but that doesn’t ever discourage me from starting other things again…I came to realise that it doesn’t matter when you get there, as long as you do eventually get there, procrastination is given a bad name, but perhaps it’s a good process for some people! I am sticking to it ya!
Ps: it took me 2 weeks to write this!! Ooof
Friday, 30 October 2015
|What being single looks like to me|
As a kid, like all the girls my age, I used to excitedly calculate how old I would be in the year 2000, that big year that represented the future, I used to daydream about what I would become, of course I was already aware of my potential and the fact that by the year 2000 I would probably be happily married with someone amazing, it was simply a matter of time and that was only part of the dream. After all that’s what grownups seem to do, they get great jobs and get married.
Today in a grey day of the year 2015, I realise that not all grownups have to follow the norm, so like many out there, I too remain single, the years came and gone, love came and left my life and somehow I remain steadfastly certain that I would one day be reunited with that promised special person who gets me and doesn’t annoy me and if I wasn’t going to meet this rare person who doesn’t annoy me well then I will be OK and life will still have meaning and challenges! Of that; I am certain and have understood it very early on.
But it seems society hasn’t made its peace with it and doesn’t recognise my choice as valid or acceptable, to them I am a desperate damsel, a relationship reject or a potential home wrecker. I am often looked at with puzzlement, some friends pity my continuous single status otherwise referred to as “predicament” and constantly try setting me up with single men (that’s it, that’s the criteria), others secretly envy it (being single) whilst others have simply stopped inviting me to their parties because it proved difficult trying to box that single girl who turns up to kids parties with no kids and a bottle of booze! Especially when that said girl answers questions like “Where’s your little one?” with “I thought BYOB stood for bring your own booze not bring your own baby” .
But for the most part people seem to be outraged that I remain single yet don’t seem to suffer the consequences of it, I want to tell them to wait a few more years but there’s no fun in that!!
They want to see you suffer the dire consequences of your terrible ill-advised choice and suffer the harsh reality of being over 30 and single, after all that’s the only way they could justify their
So instead of letting the married friends include me into their circles as a third or fifth wheel, I created my own circle, and believe me, the pass mark to get in is very high! Just recently I had to make it a bit higher based on the comments of some angry bitter unhappily married “friend” who asked if I ever did get marriage proposals, to which I said yes sure, last year I had 3 (poor sods).
“Three!!!” he said, “Isn’t that a too much??”
“Too much for whom exactly??” I said…
So he said “anyway, they’re just messing with you, you ARE over thirty remember!!”
POW! Double shamed, single-age-shamed with one sentence.
And this is the crux of the problem, people don’t seem to want to accept, or simply fathom, even in the 21st century, that a single woman might be quite happy not conforming to societal norms; that she might simply not want to be in a relationship or have a husband.
Singletons are not anomalies or glitches in the matrix of your sedated married minds; they are people with choices who simply took those choices. The End.
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