For those who don't know, this is a condom. I understand SexEd isn't big in Kuwait.
Happy Valentine's Day everyone. I know there are a few of you out there who are either:
Lonely
Lonely & Bitter
Lonely & Bitter & Married
Getting some tonight
(If you're one of the people who fall under the fourth point, don't forget to buy flowers on your way home, lest you find yourself in the third circle of despair).
Like a beautiful set of crisp sheets, let's cast humor aside for today. Today... it seems to be hitting a nerve with many people. A day set aside for love, mainly by corporate big-wigs and candy manufacturers who adore a spike in their early first quarter profits. In short? Valentine's day has less to do about the worth of your significant other, and more to do with worthless (not to mention, ultimately meaningless) junk sold at criminally over-priced rates.
BITTER? NOT THIS FEMINIST.
What's even more frustrating and confusing is the social structure in the Middle East. In this region, people live (or at least they try to). Among these "people", you have the youth. Now the youth, being their usual reckless selves, will at some point discover the opposite (or same) sex (this is a gay friendly blog, all love is recognized). Some might even be lucky enough to fall in love. However, love in the Middle East comes with a great deal of fine print. At last check, the following requirments were necessary prerequisites for baby-making:
Mate must be of same religion - This rule is flexible for men, but once again Islam leaves women wanting more.
Same sect is usually a must, however in some cases merely preferable - Even if those crazy kids end up getting hitched, familial tension is sure to ensue.
Mate should be from a good "pure" family whose roots can be traced as far back as needed - Because if they don't know who and what you are, how are her great aunts supposed to accurately gossip about you?!
Same tribe is also appreciated, but again, not entirely necessary - "Tribe" is used for lack of a more modern word, but it still holds true.
Mate should be of similiar, if not the same, nationality - Location, location, location. Kuwaiti marrying a Saudi? Doable. Kuwaiti marrying a Syrian? That's a toughie.
It would also be nice if you actually liked the person - This however, is not necessary in the least.
I know that restrictions and limitations like these aren't strictly exclusive to the Middle East, but it is more complicated here. What with all the religious tension (one of the greatest roadblocks of young love), a very archaic approach to the maintenance of the current class system (however subtle is it), and all the confusion that comes with years of segregation... Well, most of you are screwed.
To say the least.
Wrapping it up for everyone's sake,
S.
PS - What's your take on love, in the Middle East, or otherwise?
While sometimes my Mom thinks I spend far too much time and effort on my blog, as opposed to wasting my time working on KU related matters, I would have never discovered this brilliant form of escape if it was for my original partner in crime, H. (She totally took the initial thing from me!)
Close to a year ago, she so kindly invited to be a guest writer on her original blog, Obsessco, and I jumped at the chance. We had a lot of fun and certainly raised a few eyebrows, but as is life we both outgrew that stage of our foray into the blogosphere. After we parted ways, I made this blog, and she's got hoer own offering to give to the cyber community.
You can find her new blog, entitled 'The Hay Road', here.
If you like me or my blog, then you owe his woman a visit. Without her, I wouldn't have ever started this waste of time blog. She's brilliant, has great taste in movies and documentaries, and I'm excited to see what else she has up her sleeve.
Guess who's getting her bangs trimmed soon?! (I love her hair).
Today was boring, and so left with very few options with which to entertain myself, I decided to watch some TV. I settled on MBC1, my go-to channel (but only because I couldn't find the remote control), and settled down to watch a popular talk show called Kalaam Nawa3im. The title of the program roughly translates to "Speech of The Soft", and it's more or less the Middle Eastern version of The View. I'll give you a moment to take this in.
Done? Good.
Where were we? Ah, yes... Something about women.
Jokes aside, I want to shift gears and go for a more somber tone. Today's episode was about domestic abuse, namely between married couples. The guests were a married couple, a man and woman of Egyptian nationality with two (it might have been three) children. The man openly admitted to physically beating his wife and children, and went on to express his reasons for such behavior. His main argument was that he had been raised in a 'military-like environment, devoid of democracy (in the domestic sense)", and so superior/inferior roles exist within a marriage and within a family. Of all the filth he spewed, the most horrific thing he said was, (I'm paraphrasing AND translating here so don't quote me):
If my daughter commits a fault, I will hit her. If she commits a fault as an adult, I expect her husband to hit her.
I honestly cannot describe how much these words break my heart. I get a lot of shit from people about being a feminist, and sometimes I do get tired of the stigma and ridicule. However, it only takes one second of hearing things like the above quote, and I snap out of it. Since this is the 'Month Of Love', I'll save a better written and researched post about domestic violence in the Middle East for later. However, I do want to emphasize one thing:
It's 2011... If he (or she) hits you, then it's not love. It's not healthy. You owe it to yourself (and to your children of you have any) to leave or demand a change for the better. Ask your partner to seek help, be it from a professional or the local Imam, do whatever you have to. Just don't leave a bad situation as is, hoping it'll mend itself.
Remember that no matter who you are, no matter what you've done in your life, no one should have the right to lay their hand on you. You deserve more, you deserved to be loved, and you deserve to be respected. Never forget that.
I may or may not have been Joni Mitchell in a previous life.
On the back of a cartoon coaster
In the blue TV screen light
I drew a map of Canada
Oh Canada
And your face sketched on it twice
Reincarnation aside, I've often wondered what "home" really means. I was born in the US, raised in Canada, spent some time in Sweden, lived out my summers in Syria and I'm now currently kicking it in Kuwait. What I'm trying to say is that I've never really had a place I call home.
I'm not speaking about "home", as in the house you live in with your parents, roommate, partner etc. I'm talking about home on a much larger scale. It could be an entire country, it could be a single street in the corner of some obscure town (You know, one of those places that still think "Apples" & "BlackBerries" are fruits). Home could also be someone's arms, or a distant memory. I don't really know, the definition of anything differs from one person to the next. I'd like to think we all eventually find our way home.
Me?
I'm still looking for a home.
Oh I could drink a case of you
I could drink a case of you darling
Still I'd be on my feet
And still be on my feet
Side note: life is not fair.
Nursing her drink,
S.
PS - The lyrics to this song kill me.
PPS - I have no idea why I'm being such a woman lately. I think it's the 'Month of Love'... it's getting to me.
The song's name has been changed from 'S&M' to 'Come On' in some regions, namely the UK.
While today's post veers slightly off topic, it's something that's been bothering me for a while now. Add the recent release of the above train-wreck to my simmering frustration, and I've had it.
Seriously.
Before I move on, I'll just take a cyber second to make clear how I feel about love & sex. This isn't to explain myself or my opinions, but rather to put everything into context. After all, what are words without context?
Growing up, we spent a few years in Sweden and this may or may not be common knowledge but the Swedes are high functioning hippies. What does that mean, you wonder? It means that their relaxed approach to human sexuality is what I took away from my time there. Well, I took away a lot from my time spent there, but this is the most relevant for the issue at hand. (I promise to write about my time in Sweden in greater detail sometime soon). So in short, my stance is as follows:
If it's mutual and consensual then it's none of my business.
I'm not a prude, but leaving somethings unsaid and private keeps them special.
That's all.
'S&M'... What a tragedy.
I don't have anything against Rihanna or her music in particular, but 'S&M' is the straw that broke the camel's back (kinky, I know). I'm not going to attempt to explain what S&M actually is, but I'll just say this: Rihanna has no fucking idea what she's doing. My super-human ability to analyze the hell out of anything suggests that she's trying to convey the sometimes sadistic relationship between celebrities and the press/paparazzi. I get it: sex sells. However, I'm just not buying into this constant degradation of something we should be treating with more respect.
While not entirely original, the song is layered. The lyrics are average, the beat catchy and the hook insane. Nothing out of the ordinary when it comes to Pop music. Hell, I've even jogged to this track, and I like the entire album (Loud) for what it is: cookie-cutter Pop. I'm telling you all these things because I want you to understand that I don't have any grievances with RiRi or her sound. I do have a problem with this particular music video.
'S&M' is not the first, nor is it the last, tribute to this irritating trend. Upon closer examination, it's not as ridiculous as I remembered it before I began writing this, but it pays the price for being the most recent misstep. It's just so sad to see people so willingly sell out and turn the extraordinary into something menial, cheap and ordinary because they want record sales. I'm all for free speech, and have been a vehement opposer of censorship since middle school, but this?
**Disclaimer: This is my attempt at being "open" and "vulnerable". I'm not very good at it, and I apologize in advance**
Apologies for not posting anything yesterday. While I am trying to post daily for the duration of the 'Month of Love', yesterday something felt off. I was doing that thing where I ignore my feelings, and so I couldn't think. When I can't think, I can't create and so I can't blog write.
That's life for you. It's a vicious cycle, but I'm beginning to talk in circles...
Melancholy aside, I've got a song to share with you today. It falls under the "Bitter Ex-Lover" category of love songs, so you know I was all over it like bees on honey. I'll be honest, apart from this song, I don't really listen to Damien Rice. His style in music is a bit too something for me (I'm not sure what). At this stage in my life, I listen to music to either escape reality/daydream, get pumped up for the gym or both. I'm a very sensitive person (shocker, I know) and so listening to some songs just hurts. If that makes any sense.
'Delicate' is one of those songs.
"So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known?"
I preach about love, but I carry around a lot of hate. I am so angry, furious really, over and at so many things, we'd need a couple of lifetimes just to go through that list. It's so hard, being this angry all the time, being so bitter and hateful. I try my best to not inflict it on other people, and so I keep to myself, minding my own business. However, anger being what it is, it needs somewhere to go. Since I refuse to send out that much negative energy out into the world, it lives inside me. It eats away at me. All the time.
I've tried letting go, I've tried turning to God and religion, I've tried forgiveness... but it's useless.
Nothing works.
What I'm trying to say is that my life hangs in a delicate balance. Don't mess it up with your chaos. Don't ask for something I don't have. Don't ask for something I can't give. Don't try and trap me with your words, into your world. Don't make me regret everything that came before you. Lastly, don't make me ruin everything that will come after you.
Found scrawled on a table in KU months ago. I thought it was interesting.
Anyhow, today I've got quite a bit of love to share:
I was interviewed by the amazing Shelly, and you can read the exchange on his blog (which is pretty damn snazzy) here. It's basically the two of us having fun. Oh, and him being super kind and funny, and flattering, and intelligent...
I've received quite a bit of heartwarming feedback in regards to the blog from the best readers a kid can ask for and... Well, see for yourself. (The graph is a screen shot from my 'Stats' page).
You punks did this. Thank you.
Thank you Kuwait. For a lot of things.
Sighing 'til Saturday,
S.
PS - I lack inspiration on Fridays, so hang in there with me.
There are always going to be those people who will forever live in the back of our minds (I'm thinking of charging a certain someone rent!), lurking in the shadows among all those taboo thoughts we keep hidden from the rest of the world. They're the "What ifs?". They remind us of all those times we were too shy to speak up, or too embarrassed to act. They're ships that have long sailed off to other seas, leaving us stranded on little islands of emotion. (Take note: I was never much of a swimmer).
The title of this song translates to 'Did He Mention Me?', and it's sung by the wonderful Egyptian singer, Angham. It was recommended by a friend with exquisite taste, and here I am still listening to it three days later. I'm not sure what it is about this song, but something about it really spoke to me. I suppose it's the way she wonders if he still feels the way he used to. Is it possible to stop feeling for people we loved, just like that? Do we ever really get over people?
Me? I've met my fair share of characters, some memorable, some not so much. I've admired from afar, and charmed up close. Have I ever been in love? Not really.
I still haven't gotten over Kuwait.
Pondering the past,
S.
PS - Is there anyone (or anything) that is always in the back of your mind? Comments are below.
On this blog, we (my ego and I) preach about love and acceptance. Today is the first day of February, so that being that, I OFFICIALLY declare February to be the 'Month Of Love'. What does this mean, you wonder? Well, it means a lot. It includes, but is not limited to, the following:
Posts discussing the reality of dating (and things of that nature) in the Middle East, Kuwait specifically.
My favorite love songs and why I like them (Yes, feminists have feeling too) (Sometimes).
Love songs I find to be ridiculous and just straight up stupid (Bruno Mars, I'm looking at you).
Patriotism, and what it means (It's a form of love, and Kuwait's national holidays are in February, so I'm still with the theme).
Why it is my dream to die alone and husband-less
All and any other random philosophical bullshit that I come up with.
Yes folks, I've decided to inject my blog with a healthy dose of tear-inducing estrogen because February is, if nothing else, a month of bullshit and promises. Oh, and love (I always forget that last one). So, I'll do my best to post daily and keep it relevant to Kuwait all while being fun. By fun, I mean ridiculously inappropriate... Or clever... Or both.
Moving onto today's post: The Implications of A Glance
In honor of of all the crazy shit I see on Gulf road and Valentine's day, and being the deluded blogger with a God complex creative genius that I am, I've decided to score the stereotypical Kuwaiti fling using lyrics from various songs I have on my iPod. The themes are love, exchanging numbers, phones, money, driving, highways, stolen glances etc.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you a Kuwaiti love affair from start to finish.
I apologize in advance Enjoy.
The Implications of A Glance
Christina Aguilera - Genie In A Bottle
Hormones racing at the speed of light
But that don't mean it's gotta be tonight
Baby, baby, baby
(Baby, baby, baby)
The Arctic Monkeys - I Bet You Look Good
Stop making the eyes at me, I'll stop making the eyes at u What it is that surprises me is that I don't really want u to
Timbaland & Katy Perry - If We Ever Meet Again
Ya habeeby Baby tell me what's your story
I ain't shy, don't you worry I'm flirtin with my eyes, wanna leave with you tonight
Rihanna Feat. Drake - What's My Name
You just waiting on the traffic jam to finish girl
The things that we could do in twenty minutes girl
Beyonce - Yes
Somewhere between hi and goodbye
I felt so comfortable
I felt like we could BBM talk all night So I gave my number to you
Lady Gaga - Summerboy
Hey there summer boy Let’s go for a drive
Take me for a ride
Never gonna close our eyes
Hey there summer boy
I’m a busy girl
Don’t have too much time
Hurry up before I change my mind
Pause
Sia - The Co-Dependent
Feels like we are married and I haven't run away, run away, run away
So many years I've carried you in my arms
Yet I stay, yet I stay, yet I stay And still I come a-running when I hear the telephone,
telephone, telephone
Ace of Base - All That She Wants
The gentle voice that talks to you won't talk forever
It is a night for passion
But the morning means goodbye
No Doubt - It's My Life
And I've asked myself
How much do you Commit yourself?
Skip
Lady Gaga - Telephone
Stop callin', stop callin', I don't wanna think anymore! I left my head and my heart on the dance floor. Stop callin', stop callin', I don't wanna talk anymore!
No Doubt - Don't Speak
It's all ending
I gotta stop pretending who we are... You and me I can see us dying...are we?
Shuffle
Shakira - Don't Bother
So don't bother, I'll be fine, I'll be fine, I'll be fine, I'll be fine Promise you won't ever see me cry And after all I'm glad that I'm not your type, not your type, not your type, not your type Promise you won't ever see me cry
2Pac - I Ain't Mad At You
And I can't even trip, 'cause I'm just laughin' at cha
You tryin hard to maintain, then go head
'Cause I ain't mad at cha
I ain't mad at cha
Repeat
Shuffling her thoughts,
S.
PS - How did you interpret the story? You know where the comments go.
