Wednesday, 26 June 2019

I put the "I" in Single

Years and years I've been whingeing about being single and the plight that comes with, pissed off a few readers, got some interested, others irritated and bored myself with it. Then I thought what if I actually just came out and faced it.

I am single and am totally ambivalent about it, why aren't you?

It seems the only pressure I feel about being single is when I meet my married or to be married friends or those in a relationship. I get that nagging feeling which is lot like when I know I am supposed to do something but can't remember what it is and that makes me feel in trouble. So you understand NOT a good feeling. The rest of the time I am quite content and a bit triumphant like I've found the secret recipe to a long and happy life a bit like when you discover a glitch in a system that allows you to order things online for free but you don't tell anyone else for fear of ruining it for yourself (never actually happened).

What is so bad about being single anyway? My name is not single, I do not become "single", it's nothing but a socially constructed status, it is not an identity or something that you are or contract like a decease or a condition.

The pressure is mounting, it's palpable and frankly annoying, tired of the comments as snide as condescending like there's something wrong with you that you can't find someone to love you. With all your friends getting hitched around you and the growing a sense of self achievement and elevation that allows them to suddenly claim the moral high ground and the ability to dish out their newly acquired wisdom (presumably the wisdom descends on you upon placing a diamond or diamond-like ring on your index finger), they become the self-appointed gurus you should be looking to for guidance and ways to get a man to slip that much sought after Diamond ring on your fat finger (my long life dream!!). Well you know what? I have a diamond ring and I slip in and out of my finger every night before I go to bed.
So jog on...ya! it's 2019 - why are we still talking about this.
Arguably, financially I am starting to feel it doesn't make much sense, as I am always the friend or aunty who buys the engagement, wedding, birth, birthday gifts and countless cards (it's a big thing here in the UK) which is amounting to a pretty little sum (did the math - you all owe me big time!!), always celebrating my friends' life choices which are the choices condoned and validated by society. Not mine will never find a card saying "Congratulations on remaining single" and unless it's a birthday (if your friends actually deign to turn up to your birthday party), nobody seems very concerned about celebrating you or your life, 'cos everyone has got a one of those...a birthday! and remaining single simply isn't condoned by the patriarchy so you are effectively a dissident!

Furthermore, nobody actually believes you are happily single, expect for the ones with the same "condition" and are all women. Of course it is all a ruse in an attempt to regain pride and avoid humiliation in the face of this “unwanted” status.


PS: this is a very old post I drafted but never published. Now it's out, funny how it remains as relevant as I am single.

Thursday, 2 May 2019

Algeria calling!

This year will make my 18th in the U.K., going on 19th and I can safely say. Thanks very much for the laughs and the good times, the humour, the extra kilos, the shit weather, the amazing experiences and the opportunities (such a twatty expression) but it's time to leave.
Though I say that, I feel like a deserter, who leaves when the going gets tough with Brexit looming and all, what can I say, I am just not a big fan of tinned food! Though the question beckons, where to now?
My whole being is screaming for Algeria but it feels like I’d be jumping from a sinking island into a sinking ship. I feel a little homeless, just when I thought myself the luckiest girl to have two countries to call my own with the choices of both cultures and weather…what have you. I find myself in limbo!
Although the economic barometer points to Asia/Pacific or the UAE, the heart longs for the sunny shores of Algeria and the wonderful beckoning Friday protests which warm the sternest of hearts, expect for Gaid salah, he doesn’t have one.

But it doesn’t have to be limbo!

I am contemplating a move back home, to join the struggle (yes it’s a struggle), I can no longer allow myself to be content with my level of participation. The involvement is there and running at over 100% capacity, however the itch to take part, to be there and feel the energy, determination and hope of this great, funny and totally bonkers nation is more than I can take.

Stay tuned…

Tuesday, 16 January 2018

A new year and a few positive thoughts...

First day back in the office so effectively first day that counts and I realised I am not totally unhappy about being back in London or the office which is a massive change from previous years where I was often depressed about it and thus wrote more or whinged more, this sprout of positivity I have had over the last year  or so is really hindering my creativity, it seems I am more creatively productive when down or angry.

The decision resolution was made by me and my committee of 7 schizo personalities to try to cultivate a more optimistic and positive creativity that is not necessarily fuelled by anger, depression or lack of sex. And so this is the first instalment.

I have managed to drop the kilos that clung to my hips for the last ten years, which gave me a massive boost in energy and libido confidence, of course now I have a new problem, I can’t shake the boys off my hips! DAMN!  I have also dated interviewed many candidates over the last year, none of which made it past the 2nd round, on the count of mostly shallow reasons that I won’t mention here, also men are gross (and NO I have not turned gay).

I found being angry and full of sarcasm was funny until it turned against me, although my writing and sense of humour flourished, my personal life suffered visibly from this and I had to choose between being funny or being happy, such seemingly simplistic and silly choices, but the results have been staggering.

I am so full of positivity these days it’s sickening (note picture above as exhibit A), I have to feign some crankiness sometimes just to trick my mind into spurts or creativity so I am able to continue to contribute to the ongoing dialogue on all aspects/dilemmas of the Algerian woman in London or elsewhere.

I have also since come out of anonymity – on this more news to come J

Until the next happy instalment, Happy New Year from me.

Monday, 10 July 2017

Out and out

I managed about three days before the red rivers of Lucifer opened up and I had a good excuse as any to take an early breather. Once the 5 customary days (stretched to 6 on the count of one red spot on my knickers) were over I started psyching myself up for the arduous observance of Ramadan but there was no will power to be found, I looked again and rummaged in the abyss of my soul (very deep my soul) to find some willpower but all I found was a tumble weed (insert picture here)! Moving in the desert winds of my soul (insert dramatic music here)! 
Trying to understand the why is the real conundrum, I thought of a few answers; 

  • I have been debating my faith for a few years now and I struggled with it as any of my readers would know, I guess you could say it was only a matter of time before the chasm widened and the jig was up. 
  • The prevailing atmosphere doesn't help. Islam has such a bad rep nowadays that I thought myself a weakling who got put off by a bunch of faithless terrorists disseminating dogma and terror and calling it the will of God. I am made of sterner stuff that this. So theory dismissed. 
  • Being alone during such times as Ramadan can be daunting and discouraging when it's a time to be reunited with loved ones, family and friends. Mayhaps... 
  • Safety in numbers: a good theory as any to use when linking your argument to the power of the many, the many who have lapsed, gave in or never had it (faith that is).
The fact of the matter is I don't know if my faith will ever be restored, if I will horribly regret this one day or if it's gone forever and I shall become the Infidel (roll eyes 👀 ) ...what I know is that I am an adult of mostly sound mind who consciously and publicly decided not to observe one of the 5 pillars of Islam and argues simply this feels ok and also it's none of anyone's business.

Today (well when I wrote this) , Eid is upon us and as ever, I am celebrating it with family and my loved ones and I love it. The way I see it? It's not religious it's cultural (preachers, go nuts now)  :D 

A belated Happy and blessed Eid to all 

Monday, 23 January 2017

I call bullshit!

I always had high and renewed hopes for the New Year, I always excitedly jot down a list of things I wanted to achieve, countries I dreamed of visiting, kilos I desperately needed to lose and I go about my year working on my objectives with such optimism you’d think I was American. But this year feels different, something is definitely missing…I didn’t even make a list! I am consumed by something else, less superficial than a few kilos or some Hollywood-inspired objective.
First day back in London after the long Xmas break, I already know I don’t want to be here and it wasn’t the lack of sunshine or morning coffee at home or the familiar safety of my parents’ house. This time it’s different and I can feel a chasm opening and slowly widening.
As I proceed with my usual work commute, the sky is a dull grey unpunctuated by anything, I can’t see where it begins and where it ends, people are so quiet on the train you’d think they’re on their way to their executions, the only sounds coming through my headphones are coughs, a lot of coughing!
In the office, I sit at my desk and as I look around, I see my colleagues milling around the floor, repeatedly wishing each other Happy new year, nobody knows when it’s appropriate to stop, the media hadn’t spoken on the subject.  They sit in front of their screens, they run to meetings, they hold papers in their hands and discuss business, I feel part of the engrenage and simultaneously out of place, something nags at my brain, the feeling of being trapped is strong, like a lab rat, I think of the long hours we’re expected to work for nothing in return but the boss’s own pleasing, of the work-week that seems to be designed subtly enough to send us home lobotomised for the evenings and comatose for the weekend.
Resistance is futile, I am part of this system, this modern society that transformed us into new-world slaves, I am a slave, an agent of the system, a slave to the matrix.
The feeling is stronger in the last few years, all I see is flaws, this modern society model we live in is flawed, it works only to enrich the ruling elites and enslave the masses, full of social conventions put in place to control us, transforming us into sheep. Once you wake up and see it, you can never go back to “normal”....either that....
…or I am getting my period soon!

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