French Spring .... Of Algerian origin!

A home grown terrorist attack shook France last week, this, comes following a tirade or merciless killings Mohamed Merah, a young French man, went on, killing at least 7 people, three of which were children.
The apparently self proclaimed Al Qaida Jihadist allegedly filmed his crimes after he was seen with a camera around his neck and pledged to leak them on the net, he is said to have received Al Qaida training in Afghanistan and Pakistan.

It was also reported by his friends that Merah was a party animal, who regularly went to Rai nightclubs with his girlfriends whom he used to brag about.

Loving night clubs and Al Qaeda training, the two elements required to fit the profile of an islamist extremist to a T.

At this stage, and given the name of the assailant, the word “terrorist” goes hand in hand with Islam, and given that the victims were Jewish including the children and the Rabi, and finally another given being Mohamed Merha’s origins being Algerian, gives us the perfect terrorist.

“Have you heard he’s Algerian”….I was told on that fateful morning at least half a dozen times, to which I had to repeatedly reply, “no I believe he was French with Algerian ancestry, you see Zidane is French, Mohamed Merah is French with Algerian origins?”

Home grown terrorism is home grown for a reason, it is not Algeria that made him into what he is or was, it is not Algeria that instilled hatred and monstrosity into him, no one will ever know, if it was religious (despite his self-proclaimed allegiance to Al Qaida) or political or indeed neo-Nazi as some even suspected, all we know is that he was a very disturbed young man who committed despicable crimes…

What are the reasons for his actions? Avenging Palestinian children it was said? Was he starting the Palestinian spring in the heart of France?

I am not the one for conspiracy theories, but it could be argued that the French authorities and intelligence, having been aware of his trips to Afghanistan and his alleged Al Qaida training or at least his visits to Afghanistan, would have had him on radar. Furthermore, how can a 23 year old young man who presumably was under police surveillance, amass such artillery and commit several crimes petty or otherwise before he was even noticed.

Was he a product of French Intelligence? Some even argued Merah was used by the French authorities/secret services to create a national tragedy in which Sarkozy would come out the winning hero.

Having read multiple and contradicting articles on Merah’s life, between troubled teen years of petty crimes, Al Qaida training in Afghanistan and Waziristan and the final tirade of killings, one truly wonders how he was only 23. Perhaps the globe moves slower on his side of the planet!

Mohamed Merha died on Wednesday, after his home was raided by agents; he “overpowered” the snipers, their thermal camera-guns, gas canisters and high technology in his one bedroom council flat. Then on his last breath and frenzy he jumped off his first floor flat, guns blazing and plummeted to his death ending the long 30 hour siege. Actual cause of death a bullet to the head.

I wonder when the movie is coming out.

Muslims of France are left with the legacy of Mohamed Merah, rising islamophobia and promises of crackdown on any organisation that calls for violence or hate, but in true Sarkozy’s style, he’s probably going to arrest the next flight of pilgrims out to Mecca on grounds of suspicious behaviour and attire.

Pending the French presidential elections, Mohamed Merah’s has made someone’s spring but I doubt it will be that of Palestinian children, perhaps Nicolas Sarkozy? François Holland? Or Marie le Pen? Sarkozy has now gained momentum and moved to 1st place followed closely by Holland. I guess Spring is really here.

Mohamed Merah on Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mohammed_Merah#Mohammed_Merah

Dz-Chick .... Allergic to spring and politics!

I prefer a kiss!

Since the appearance of new age diseases like SARS, Bird flu and swine flu etc..., the world has gone a bit “sanitary”. The Orientals with their face masks and the rest of us with the anti-bacterial hand gel (both meagre efforts if you ask me).

Where there’s a disease, there’s an opportunity
Pharmacies everywhere stocked up on the “miracle” gel, a lot of people came down with the flu (the regular kind, the other two are medical myths – I reckon), sequestrated themselves at home, consumed ungodly amounts of paracetamol and other pharmaceutical products with different names but same ingredients, employers lost colossal amounts in sick leaves and in health and safety compliance procedures etc…my company supplied us with tubs of 500ml Alcohol Hand sanitizers per desk, installed all sorts of hygienic tools in bathrooms and kitchen and provided free flu jabs to all employees costing further thousands of pounds, but you no amount of anti-bacterial can prevent imaginary flu or man flu for that matter!

All this because people insist on shaking hands! I was never a big fan of hand shaking;
As one of the oldest greeting rituals ever to exist, it has many meanings and benefits, is a universally used and recognised gesture, I always wondered if the Orientals had it right all along with the slight bow form of greeting, requiring minimum effort or manigance, hypocrisy or calculation of hand firmness or required pressure to crash someone’s hand, or leaving an impression, we are always taught to give a firm handshake and make eye contact but never told to wash your hands afterwards! surely they go hand in hand - pun intended.
I wonder do all these people not realise it's the perfect way to spread germs? Almost as bad as sex.

Hera and Athena handshaking, late 5th century BC
To think it was women who started this!!

If we found ways of protection against sexually transmitted diseases, how come we cannot abolish the handshake!
Coming from a Mediterranean culture where we give and receive between 2 and 4 kisses on the cheeks, and men shake hands (and kiss on the cheek) on a daily basis (after shaking hands they lightly touch their right fist to their heart, a ritual I find endearing and also very revealing when playing “spot the Algerian abroad”), you wonder, how many hands does an average man shake per average day?
How many germs are exchanged through these handshakes?
And can you safely say where their hands have been?
I can: scratching their private parts or someone else's , no doubt.

President Obama bowing to the Emperor of Japan
Shaking hands and bowing a the same time! where is the sense in that!

When I moved to England I enjoyed the difference in greetings, although not hugely disparate, men still shake hands and kiss (only women) on the cheek, it remains much less passionate, frequent or as warm as our Mediterranean greeting, but not as hypocritical or forced by tradition.  Personally a nod or a peck on the cheek would suffice in fact if not preferred, I always think kissing a cheek is more hygienic.
Now at the risk of sounding dolally, I came up with a list of things to keep in mind:

- Upon meeting someone for the first time, unless he or she is an interviewer/candidate, try not to extend your hand for a shake unless you have to.
- Quickly nod and say hello without moving your upper body, your body language will quickly inform your interlocutor that you're not up for a handshake and you can swiftly move on to how are you's?
- DO NOT kiss on the cheek AND shake hands at the same time - that's just ridiculous and excessive body contact.
- DO remain polite and discreet when pulling out your anti-bacterial gel to smear over your hands.
- Try not to make grossed out faces when you're applying the hand gel.
- Excuse yourself and walk slowly to the bathroom, do not run, the soap will still be there.
- DO NOT offer the anti-bacterial gel to the person you just shook hands with, that's just rude, but can be a funny and effective way of getting the message across.
- If you have to shake hands, at least make it a memorable gesture, make it firm but gentle, no need to crash my hand or give me a limp, wet handshake with the fingers rather than the whole hand, this makes me gag and loose all respect.
- And finally - if you insist on shaking people's hands, Please try to keep your hands clean for god's sake.


And now going back to the Pharmaceuticals mafia; Pharmaceuticals can be summed up in one sentence, I will quote my favourite from the movie Cold Mountain “They made the weather and then they stand in the rain and say 'Shit, it's raining’” except it never rains on them as they already have the cure and they don't have to pay for it.

In conclusion, you either wash your hands or you stop shaking peoples hands and spearing your germs.

If you think I am off with the ferries, then I'll be pleased to tell you I am not the only one...take a look here even the British Olympic board attempted to ban handshakes, also look here and here!

Dz-chick…prefers a firm golden handshake….anyday!

Drama mama!

We girls love a bit of drama; we create it, crave it, we thrive on it. Very lucky few are drama-free. I am of course; a major drama queen but not very proud of it, although it could be endearing to a very crazy few, I myself rarely find it funny and more often than not, will try to share my issues with my male friends more than with girls, in an attempt at soaking up that drama-free attitude and dismissing none-issues with a shrug of the shoulders.
Girls are saved for the days when I am not prepared to snap out of it and the need to dwell on things is ever present, so my girlfriends will listen to my non-issue issues and cry outrage and disgust, fuelling my already high emotions, I weep, their eyes water a little, we group hug, share a drink, a cigarette or chocolate cake and call everybody a bastard, men, bosses, men and that annoying paper boy with his City AM, shoving it in my face EVERY morning!

Drama 1
Oh my god, Sara didn’t put a kiss on her last text to me, do you think she hates me?
Drama 2
My boss didn’t make eye contact with me this morning, am getting fired aren’t I?
Drama 3
I have an itchy left boob, do you think I have cancer?
Drama 4
I though we really hit it off, why didn’t he text me, it’s been an hour already!

Don’t you just love to indulge your cravings for drama? It’s a way of shaking things up when life is a little dull, this Catastrophising makes you feel alive, drives away boys and keeps you young or at least juvenile, but a life without drama is not a life worth living. Say AMEN.

Now as a major drama queen who once cried (with tears and everything) out of fear of a cockroach, I shouldn’t be saying the following but I feel I need to balance it out a little and give you ways to avoid being a hypochondriac, a drama queen or a bitch…

- When you feel a drama moment arising, only hang out with boys, you’ll soon feel ridiculous

- Think of the worst that could happen: if a guy doesn’t text you, just think he might have died of Co2 poisoning in his bathtub or has tripped on his oversized ego and fell into his empty hole of a soul – harsh? Nonsense, it’s wickedly therapeutic.

- “sniff sniff everything happens to me, the only skirt left is a size 8 and doesn’t fit by big bum” …. Context it all and think of someone you know who has cancer or hasn’t had a job in five years! You’ll soon resize your problems appropriately and snap out of your short lived drama

- Do try to snap out of it quickly by crying it out, if you can’t, then you may lash out at your close friends, they’ll take it, especially the boys, tears always confuse them.

- Do not listen to melancholic music that pushes you further into self-pity, like Adele and what not, on which let me tell you, she should have told them all to jog on but no fingers required! I was quite disappointed in her diva attitude; she’s another drama queen you see…

- Don’t go through your whole contact list and call them one by one, in search of more pity and attention – it gets tedious and I will be washing my hair.

- And remember boys almost all prefer drama-free…

The point of this post you ask? Well it’s a funny story really… Sara does hate me, I might actually be fired and there is a lump in my breast. The only non dramatic thing is that guy did text after an hour and half and I decided I didn’t like him.

Dz-chick…a big drama mama!

Cupid has flown the co-op!

A seemingly easy topic to tackle, yet it took me several attempts to merely start this post, so many angles!
I have no feuds with celebrating love or even that little brat Cupid and it has nothing to do with the fact that I am single, so let’s make that clear.

My issue is more with the hundreds of couples that seem to have formed overnight, walking around town with a smug look on their faces, playing tonsil tennis on the streets, flaunting their “love” and their “in a couple” status. And when you cross their paths you have to wait for them to walk first because the pavement is not big enough for them and their love and you’re only a single person, you are nothing to them, a pest, and a waste of space. Today they do not envy your freedom.

This “couple” status that seems to give them the permission to take over the place with their balloons, chocolates, cards and public displays of affection, flowers everywhere, on the train, in the office, it’s their day, if you’re single (have flower allergies) It’s best if you stay home and out of their way, you’re merely an inconvenience, the town belongs to them, life belongs to them today.

Have you tried booking a table for dinner? IF you get through the busy line and manage to get a table for 10pm near the toilets, you’ll have to eat the Valentines set menu with heart shaped deserts and love potion chicken soup and other sappy romantic whatnots.

I give up – Chinese takeaway tonight it is.

Cupid did not strike this year, maybe he misfired his arrow and got himself in the ass! Or one would hope, but from all the love that seems to be spreading around the world, I’d say well done Marketing geniuses, you have truly done it.

How can people readily fall into these obvious traps and go ahead purchasing millions of pounds worth of perishable rubbish to commemorate a day (and presumably their love for each other) invented by marketers to help their clients craft targeted campaigns to take full advantage of the gift-buying frenzy, making it second to Christmas spending-wise.

I understand why there is no “I am single and loving it day”, single people are more cynical and think more clearly, their judgments are not clouded by love fumes etc, where’s the business genius in that! hmmmm
Actually…..that’s not a bad idea! I call dibs!

Oscar Wilde said “To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance”
so before pretending to love someone else and showering them with confectioneries and material possessions because of an ancient roman religious man called Valentine who may or may not have been gay or because of a couple of TV adverts brainwashing you into conditional loving, learn to love yourself (not in that way you pervs) and spend the evening with friends or yourself doing something fun or interesting but do not engage any couple you may pass on the street or the bar, do not wish anyone a happy Valentines day and for gods’ sake don’t cry about being single, because today is actually your day not theirs, they are the clowns who are being bled, pressured into spending their hard earned cash in silly chocolate boxes, silly red cards and lingerie, you’re single and in control of your cash, time and feelings, all year long.

Dz-chick…bring on the 15th Feb!

Smile-it-forward

Another dreadful journey on London underground this morning, amidst all the armpits, newspapers cutting into my cheek and stale beer stench, something strange and wonderful happened, someone smiled at me, it was puzzling at first, then uncontrollably my facial muscles contracted and produced a smile (a beautiful smile at that) and we both acknowledged eachothers’ wretched position, from that point on, I forgot the smelly armpit, the leftover curry and the bad cologne and just wore a faint smile on my face that relaxed my tense muscles and I thought: it’s not that bad

So I went on about my interminable journey to work, my facial muscles relaxed and poised, I smiled at the next person who held my gaze, she smiled too and then it hit me…

It’s infections, you can catch it like the flu, it spreads like it was airborne and changes the atmosphere. It reminded me of a movie I watched once that made me weep like a child “paying it forward” based on the novel by the same title by Catherine Ryan Hyde starring that little cutie pie of a boy who started a movement called pay-it-forward, whereby he does one act of random kindness to three people and instead of having them pay him back, he asked them to 'pay it forward' by helping three other people, who would then each 'pay it forward' by helping three other people, who then go on to do the same in the hope of changing the world, of course the little boy died and it was all very sad and Hollywood like. 

I started reading on smiling, the physiological and emotional side of it and I became fascinated with smiling, in Islam, it is said that a smile in the face of others is considered charity or a good deed, and I thought that was so beautiful and I can see how a small facial contraction as it were can have huge effects on a whole group of people, a bit like a butterfly effect.

So I take it upon myself to always smile and smile back when people smile at me and sometimes you don’t know why you smile at some and not others and no it has nothing to do with being attracted to that person, notice how it is always women who initiate the smiling, old people smile, children smile and sometimes they stare at you in fascination (in my case it must be due to my striking beauty), don’t get me wrong, I am not walking around like a smiling moron flashing my teeth, the wrinkles are just not worth it, I endeavour to draw the line at a faint smile but certain people you cross on the train or the shop insist on sharing a thought or a joke with you, so again you smile (showing teeth this time) and nod in agreement but secretly hope it'll be the end of this chapter, but it usually never is!

Notice how it’s always women who smile at other women, children or older people, never at men, a women smiling at a man could be perceived as an open invitation or forward flirting and vice versa thus people of the opposite sex seem to refrain from this odd behaviour, unless there is an actual attraction but seeing that we live in England and males behaviour is fuelled by beer, women will continue to smile and support each other, I don’t want to hear anyone whinge about what a waste it is a lot of beautiful women are lesbians though.

In Graph 1.1 above, I have demonstrated clearly and with obvious elegance and skill, how this is going to work for the recently lobotomised and the ones who don’t’ speak English (no correlation between the two).

I smile at three people a day, in turn these same people, will each smile at three other people and so on and so forth and we watch the wrinkles grow and good mood spread…maybe this will shift the energy around us and ……(insert more Anthony robins crap here)…making our worlds better.

Are you cringing yet? Well you should be.

The point I am trying to make is: smile it really isn’t that bad.

Despite all your cynicism, frustrations and hormonal imbalances, smiling is the only thing that is consistent and can alter all the negative feelings you may have and it really is an inexpensive way to change your looks, I mean have you ever seen a smiling face that was not beautiful?

See? Beautiful

Dz-Chick…smiling always :-) but with good anti-wrinkle cream 

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NB: Do not attempt to psychoanalyse me through the handwriting - you don't know it's me.
Also, the last picture gives me the icks!