Getting yer act together

Prospective #2 got married?!?!???!!!!!?!!!!??!?!

I discovered this through one of those social networking sites one fine morning before work. This resulted in screaming 'what!?' in pitches that I could never reach in choir practice and in a variety of locations- you know- just to sound check on the acoustics in the car, the shower, and very quietly in the toilets at work.

Was I screaming because I wanted to be the one getting legally tied down to him? No. How, in the six months since we were last in touch, did prospective 2 acquire his life long partner? How?

How did he get his act together??????

After finding a dear friend (instead of empty rooms) to scream at/with, some fine advice was given:

Just because you get married does not mean you have your act together.

Boom.

Of course I wish #2 all the best etc etc but in summary, just because I am NOT married does not mean I haven't got my act together either.

I find that I am succumbing to the humanity of this experience rather than turning to Allah. Hmm. I stopped praying for anything marriage related a while ago and instead fester in despondency, which unfortunately seems to be serving an unhealthy function for me.

It seems easier to turn to the community and go along with their 10 year theory about me not wanting to get married than it is to continue to look for someone and turn to the community and go no one wants to spend more than 1-5 hours meeting with me let alone sign a binding contract!

Whilst this is all grossly emo I never forget that I have a roof over my head, a fantastic job, the best friends and family, and a body that for the most part is totally working mA!

Maybe my next step is to actually understand what it means to get married for the sake of Allah versus selfish needs. Right?

Freshie McFreshster

The ironic gun-of-life hits me with a spray of bullet points:

- set up with freshie (ok he's lived here for 10 years...)
- i thought what the hec no way
- then i thought o whatever it can't hurt to try
- receive epic emails from freshie
- receive epic texts from freshie
- have epic phone calls with freshie
- have hands down the best face to face 5 hour long o wow found one of my 10000 soul mates  conversation
- receive epic non rejection text afterwards (first time ever)
- receive epic banter texts
- receive news that freshie wants to move back to motherland
- contemplate moving to motherland
- contemplate self harm in fried chicken shop
- contemplate using womanly charm to challenge his view on moving to motherland
- incur wrath of Allah for considering use of womanly charm
- receive news that his parents want him back
- mmm fried chicken
- contemplate how i have never connected with a guy before in this way
- recontemplate moving to motherland
- reflect on possibility of raising children in a conflict zone
- re re contemplate moving to motherland
- my parents against move to motherland
- realise the situation is ridiculous
- no further contact between me and freshie mcfreshster
-fried chicken. Fried mars bar. Fried milk. Fried crack.


Major learning point: freshies are ok

Major regret: i would prefer to have not had hope dangle its wretched carrot in my face. Damn you hope. Damn  you.

In other news,  I am having a set up with:
- non freshie
- worse email ever (arrogant)
- worse texts ever (selfish)
-worst phone call ever (aspergers  meets selfish meets arrogant)

Maybe he will be better in person iA?

u-g-l-y I really don't have an alibi

So. Guess what? I have a suprise for you and hey, it was a suprise for me too.

Turns out I am judgemental. If you had already picked up on this in my earlier posts then a) you get a prize- please comment on this post to receive said prize and b) why didn't you tell me?! Man I thought I was so PC. So into diversity. So fighting the underdog's corner. So not judgemental...

I succumbed to the lure of another online site and came across a lovely gentleman who unlike the others- you know, the 'hi salm wnt 2chat.intrsted i ur profil' types, was actually able to sustain a conversation. In fact, and I'm just gonna come out and say it- he could keep up with me. *GASP* You arrogant moron!!! No no- just self aware of my borderline ADHD. (Trust me. I'm a catch).

Now, I hadn't put up a profile pic- mostly because I don't want the brothers to gawk over my clear resemblance to angelina jolie. Neither had the lovely gentleman. What am I on now- prospective #5?

We decide to meet. Im sat in a high street chain 'bound to go bust in favour of made-to-order coffee off amazon.com' coffee shop. Twiddling my thumbs. Casually looking over some easy to digest lefty news website, and in walks the only other brown dude in the village. Please don't be him. Please don't be him.

Crap it's him.

On being crude: 8/10 personality. 1/10 me being attracted to him. Communicated for a day after meeting and then it fizzled out. So hopefully the feeling was mutual. Now- my standards, visually, when it comes to men are pretty low. I am a total sucker for the fat balding types. Again, I direct your attention to James Gandolfini. But despite the epic firework display in our conversation he just wasn't fat or bald or gandolfanythini enough for me. Me so clever- see what I did there? ;)

I surprised myself. I never expected to be in a position where I wasn't a fan of da man. I suppose I have an in-built schema that it would always be the other way round. Once again I say: cue tiny tiny violin.

***warning: negative rant***

***warning: dont tell me not to be negative. We are all allowed our crazy negative moments...***

Less than a year ago I hardly gave a passing thought to being single. I'd happily hang out with my couple-buddies, dream about random crazy adventures in the future that I hoped to embark on and endlessly watch horror films.Now. Well now I want to punch any couple I see in the face, dream about being a crazy cat lady and sob hysterically over hours of rom- coms.

What.the.hec.happened.

I can quite safely say: there are noooo prospectives. Nada. Online guy (#3) has changed his online profile to indicate that he despises certain types of women. That would appear to be me he's describing. Ok so I never replied to him. My bad. Whatevs. Boo freaking hoo. I was on holiday for God's sake?!

Number 2. Totes is not interested in me. Why on earth did I ever think someone like him would be interested in someone like me?! I wont bore you with the details but lets just say I stood side by side with someone he used to be interested in and I am like two thousand stone throws away from her. Yes yes I shouldnt compare etc etc. But you know what? Im human!!! And I'm having a fat day! Ok well maybe prospective 2 also turned out to be a little too Edward Cullen for my liking. Think emo.Not bloodsucker.

Oh yeah and my parents. LOVE them. So much love. Apparently theres a doctor, an investment banker and some sort of engineer in the pipeline for me. Do I care? NO!!! Same old same old. Parents talk about mystery men and how theyve become best buddies with mystery mens' families. Will i get to meet any of these wonderful blokes? Of course I wont! This is a 9 year old pattern. Why, despite avid attempts of intervention from myself and my siblings, would this bizarre approach to (failing to) introduce me to guys, change?

O and bless my dear dear sister. This time Im being positive. Sort of. She signed me up to a singles event. Yes. I am now so socially incompetant that the only way for there to be a hope in hell of me meeting someone is to fork out 30 quid. Maybe Ill start buying myself some friends. Maybe Ill get a mail-order husband. Can you get those? No problem if he's Thai, I'm not so backward that I can only marry from my own village. As long as he's vaguely brown that's totes cool.

I was exposed to 30/40 single guys in one go. Im fairly certain that's more than I've ever encountered in my lifetime. I didnt take to any of the guys. They didnt take to me. I got more girls numbers (3) than guys (0).Worked out pretty well I reckon!!

This marriage stuff is hard. Why is no else around me finding it this hard?

Only one potential prospective remains...

Well, we can successfully rule out prospective #3 (online guy). Apparently my inability to communicate via the internet and repeatedly going off travelling this summer did not suit his (lack of) tolerance for ‘flaky people’. Balls. I’m not flaky, but yes I am notoriously useless at online stuff. In fact, in true flaky form I have failed to reply to him to apologise.

Prospective #4  is definitely out of the picture now. In the end my brother did speak to my parents in a bid to rule out all freshies. Good job bro. I’m assuming his involvement in this process, given he is 7 years younger than me, is not so much out of love and adoration but more that he is on the hunt for a super fun epic brother in law. Well it’s a mutually beneficial agenda so I’m ok with him sticking his nose in!

So really that leaves prospective #2. Ahh prospective 2... Before I went off on my epic travels we spent a lot of time in comms with each other. Lots of time. Too much time for my liking but enough time for me to think: hey, well, you’re the one instigating all of this communication- what’s going on here? I thought we weren’t a good match? What does this mean, what does this meaaaaannnn?

Courtesy of jet-lag I’m too tired to care about what it means at this moment in time. I am yet to inform him that I am back from my travels. As soon as I muster up the energy my grand plan is to perform istikharah. If Allah gives me the go ahead then I will do something about prospective #2. If He doesn’t give me the go ahead then I will save myself a text-message and forget the whole thing.

Thanks to ‘A Muslimah’s’ great suggestion I have started to talk to more people to get them on board with my grand plan to complete half my deen. (PS read her awesome blog: http://muslimamusing.blogspot.co.uk/). So whilst visiting my cousins I announced over dinner that I was on the search. They initially expressed total surprise having been under the assumption that as my little sister got married first, that I must have been too career-consumed and rejecting men left right and centre in a bit to complete  my quest to become supreme dictator of the world. I corrected them accordingly: man, babies, then supreme dictator of the world. Not: supreme dictator of the world, man, and if my ovaries haven’t collapsed by then: babies.

It turned out that my long lost cousin has a set-people-up-for-marriage-non-profit-business on the side and in true professional form, she proceeded to email me a list of men, their demographic details and other interesting information about them. My job is to explain what I want and what I definitely don’t want, based on the examples she has provided. Excellent!! My cousins are totally on board!! So again on A Muslimah’s suggestion and my cousin’s I will begin formulating an ‘essential’, ‘desirable’ and ‘no freaking way’ list. Back to those lists.... So far all I got in ‘essential’ is: Muslim and Man.

That narrows it down to a few million right?

And... the panic is kicking in...

My younger sister got married. OK well her Nikkah was last year but I just returned from the cultural side of the wedding in the mother-land so now it’s all official. Wonderful. I am now officially a marital social outcast. At community gatherings, I don’t get to sit with the married women which includes my sister and friends. I am in a different room. With the single girls. Most of who are at least 7  years younger than me. I’m that weird one that gets given peoples babies to look after so that the mums can go off and have a good ol’ time whilst single old weirdo me is mandated to make sure none of the kids stick their fingers into plug sockets. F.M.L.

On a more positive note, I am thrilled for my sister. She is wonderful mashAllah and her man is someone I have known (of?) since childhood and he is brilliant so I am so happy for them. Of course, I still have an overwhelming desire to repeatedly bang my head against a wall and cry at the irony of this all, but in summary I am well proud. On a more negative note, my birthday is coming up aka my cultural bridal expiry date. Panic. Panic. Panic.

Whilst away I did learn one thing about my wish list. No way to freshies. Like no way. I am basing this on a solid sample size of about 15 men. The sample was comprised of cousins and cousins’ husbands. The sample was matched for ethnicity. The mean age of the sample was about 27. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family but marrying someone with the attitudes and opinions like the ones they had would result in me being sectioned. To top it off, when offering my opinion, in 3 situations, I was outright ignored. I wanted to jump up and down stamping my foot like a petulant child and scream ‘where I come from fancy schmancy important people take my advice!’ I figured the screaming might not accompany the sentiment so well. I opted to comfort eat instead. 

Thankfully my brother, who can do and say no wrong (often working in my favour), agreed. Since my parents haven’t  spoken about me meeting prospective #4 since our return from the motherland I figured my bro must have had a quiet and stern word with them. Only, on asking him it turns out he didn’t. Despite not wanting to meet prospective 4, this is further evidence that my wonderful wonderful wonderful parents do not know what they’re doing!!! To rely on my super awesome gorgeous parents could be fatal!!! Now that I think about it, I wonder how many other men have come and gone- arrived to announce their potential interest in a girl who they have little but demographic information about- and then just disappeared after having to deal with the lack of parental organisation skills.

I also seem to have hit a general low point in this quest of mine. When I played the role of ‘let’s set up my sister’- it took a phone call, a text message or two and a convo and within 3 weeks there he was at my parents place, with his parents, getting engaged to my sister. 3 weeks. Based on my own minimal experience I didn’t think it was going to happen that quickly, so I essentially inadvertently significantly contributed to my current status as cultural social outcast. Within 3 months they were married. 3 months!!?!!!?!

Ergh. Cue self-deprecating rumination. 

Checking in

Assalamu Alikum people. 

Sorry for epic delay in posting anything- it's Ramadhan- 'nuff said.

In the mean time, this blog post on the half our deen website really sums it all up for me right about now:

http://blog.halfourdeen.com/2012/08/cultivating-healthy-relationships-imam-khalid-latif/

Stay tuned... (disclaimer: not my fault if you get your hopes up and my next post is as interesting as gordon brown on valium)