What do I come back to?

So I've been back for a little over a month now, and my sanity is still in tact. In fact, I'm a lot more mellow than I thought I would be, which is a good thing. I think it's because I have my research to distract me that allows me to keep that balance in my brain, and that when I want to relax, I really can. I've seen a few friends, but I'm not as antsy as last time I was here to see everyone because at this point it's my research that's getting in the way. However those who I have seen have told me the same thing (bar one). When they ask me how I'm doing in England and if I'm enjoying my PhD. When I tell them that I'm really happy there, they all then put a loving hand on my arm or shoulder and say, "stay there." That's not meant as an insult, it's meant as loving advice from one woman to another. They've known freedom, they've tasted independance and then had to come back to a life where everything is boiled down to whether you can get a man to do it for you because you sure as hell can't. To a place where there is no life other than work (if you're lucky enough to even like your job), going out shopping, going out to restaurants or going out to see friends/socialise.

Each friend/cousin/aunt who's seen me asks me what my life is like these days. It's almost as if they're asking me about a true love that I just adore, my face lights up, a smile spreads and I tilt my head to the side. Just by that look people can tell just how happy I am to be in London. I'll tell them that I'm happy and that life there is just how I've always wanted it to be, that although it's expensive, it's sometimes cold and dreary, there's always something to do and something to love. I don't go into too much detail into life in London because I'd hate for them to gossip or think I've gone mad living there away from my dad, but they can see how different things are for me and how content I am with life there.

And each time I'm done, they will always ask me, "Will you come back after you've finished your studies?" And each time I'll shrug and reply, "If there's a job here for me, then we'll see. For now I'll just see who wants me or picks up my CV." But they can see the glint in my eye and the corners of my mouth twitch, and they know that I secretly do not want to come back. They know that I cannot let on that I have no real intention of coming back, but that I'm not going to start rumours by flat out refusing to come back.

And each time I politely answer, they will lovingly warn me not to come back. If I value my sanity and happiness, I should not come back. To come back would turn me into one of them, a drone in a society where everything is superficial and progress is at a snail's pace. An aunt, who I have to admit is one of my favourites, told me not to come back. "What would you come back to? A job you hate? Marriage? Your dad? Trust me, stay in England, be happy, don't come back." It's funny how all the women (again, bar one) feel the same way. It's like getting a verbal, loving hug.

However, like this single woman who does not agree with the other women, the men have a different opinion of what I should do. They, of course, think I should come back once I'm done. I ask them why. They all say, "Because you're one of us and you need to start your life here again. You'll get a great paying job, be pampered at home and then you can settle down at get married." That last line always sticks in my craw. It makes me dig my heels into the ground and scowl at them. My favourite cousin and closest friend actually said that. When he came to see me in England, and he could see just how happy I was, his main concern was "and what happens when you want to get married?" I couldn't believe that was his main concern about my life - my life, as a woman would not be complete or fulfilled if I did not get married. How sexist can you get?

I look at life here and I realise that to come back here, to make my roots again, would be the hardest ever. When I was 12 and moved here, it took me 8 years to settle and become happy. Now that I'm 27, I think I'm too old for that. I'm already settled, I'm already happy with what I have. I'm tired of moving and I don't have the energy - physically and emotionally to do it anymore.

So maybe London is my true love, something that I can't bare the thought of being parted from. It took me 10 years to get back, it was my goal for a whole decade, do they really think I'd want to give that up?

*Song of the moment: "In The Waiting Line" Zero 7

The friends that you have and keep

It's 9:30am, I'm ready to have a shower (to start my day), I should do my bed and wash my breakfast dishes. My family have gone to take my great aunt to the airport, she was visiting us for a few days. I'm supposed to be at a football game, cheering on my team at a friendly, but I stayed at home because 1) I thought it was going to rain and I'm not going to support them in the rain like I did last year, 2) I needed to wake up at 6am to get ready and go, 3) I REALLY need to do some work for my research otherwise I'll be just incredibly lazy and a pointless student.

1) Turns out, it didn't rain, 2) I woke up at 6am to have my elderly aunt shouting down the stairs but was really woken up by my grandmother shushing her loudly, 3) I've been awake for 3 and a half hours and still haven't gotten any work done. Oh well!

I should have started working yesterday, but I felt like leaving the house and doing other things that didn't entail work, like meeting friends, taking pictures, having a relaxing day in the sun, walking from Wardour Street to Liverpool Street Station. I'd spent three weeks inside my house working my ass off. Everyone I knew or would talk to on a regular basis was not in the country or was busy with their own projects. Those three weeks were quite lonely. It's not because I split from BD. But it was because while everyone was away I took stock of the friends that I have here in London. The cold hard fact was, still is, I have more male friends than I do girlfriends. There is only one person who I keep up with religiously and that's it. All my girlfriends are in other places in the world, and it occured to me that my studies are also isolating me.

I know for a fact that's not the real excuse *ehem* I mean reason! I just can't always keep up with people. I'm lazy, I'm not one to be popular. Back home I had two main girlfriends who I would keep up with, and one of the reasons is because I worked with them. But I loved them, and still do. We didn't need to go out and party all the time, we'd go out for dinner, go to each other's houses, go for a coffee and bitch about work. I loved them. They were laid back and sorted. I knew that if I didn't talk to them for a few weeks, that I could pick up where I left off when I came back. I could trust them implicitly about everything in my life. I knew no matter what I did or said they would never judge me. Actually I know 5 people like that, and really those are the kind of people I like. That's the type of person I am. I don't phone people all the time. People don't know what's going on in my life at every second unless they live in my house, or in my pocket (on speed dial)!

When I first came to England, I have to admit. I had a large group of friends. But they weren't really mine, and you can't always have loyalties with friends that come as a package. I realised that they were not the kind of people who I was and that their demeanor was making me slightly paranoid. It wasn't until something terrible happened that I decided to change things. My phone contract had ended and I decided to start afresh. I changed my number and changed my friends. I ended up having three true friends by the time that I finished my MA, but when I handed it my dissertation and celebrated with my class I also realised I was saying goodbye to some really great people who I wanted to keep as friends.

Maybe that's it. I keep up with people who are within reach and those people who I can trust. Those people who I feel comfortable with. I have few friends because it's less people to keep track of and less people to worry about gossiping about you. It's not that I'm unfriendly, I just know who I like to be friends with, I know who I like and enjoy hanging out with, I know who I can trust and I know who I could turn to when I need help or someone to talk to. So what if I'm not popular? I know who my real friends are!

I don't do tours...

There lies a lazy force within me which kicks in as soon as an overseas friend comes to town. I'm not like this with all my overseas friends, just the ones who expect me to "show them around". I'm sorry, I don't work that way. I'm lazy and low maintenance. If you do not know London, do not come up to me, unless you want directions. I simply do not work like that. When I see friends it's usually in places that they will know or are familiar with or are familiar with the area around it.

Last night a friend of mine wanted to see me to show her London at night. There were so many things wrong with that sentence, the first being that it was a Wednesday night where most places close at 6pm. However, being true to my name, I took her to Soho because that's the place that is awake all night, every night. My friend is from the Middle East, and although she grew up a diplomat's daughter and travelled the world, she's never quite seen something like Soho before.

We got out at Piccadilly Circus station to walk up the Windmill, where her eyes were enlarged to saucers. We turned into Brewer Street to see various sex shops and bars on either side of the street. I could see my friend start to get excited when she snuck a peak at what was inside a couple of these shops. She couldn't contain herself when we passed a gay porn shop with a couple of posters and manequins inside. As we entered into Old Crompton Road I told her THIS was the place to have fun. This was the place to bring your girlfriends for a quiet coffee and a chat, while spectating the beautiful men that would stroll pass you. She nodded and took it all in as I told her what each place did and represented (how Paul's is to die for, how Moaz has amazing falafel and how Nero has the best view but Costa had the best coffee).

Since she had bought me a gift and she was a guest in my city, I took her out to dinner. We ended up dining in Balans where the scene in mainly in black and the waiters are so good looking that you don't even want to bother wishing they were straight. I ordered my usual cosmopolitan and a bottle of water (she doesn't drink), while we started with some bread and olives, and then moved onto lemon and herb chicken. She loved the atmosphere in there. Her eyes darted around the room as she looked upon the gorgeous gay couple next to us bitching about their ex's and who was doing who, to the girls next to us to who dined on fries and a bottle of rose, to the happening group behind us who consisted of three men in suits and a girl with a stylish pair of glasses (couldn't have gone to spec savers). She soaked it all in, including the gorgeous waiter who couldn't stop smiling. I couldn't help but smile to myself as she was completely drowned in a world she was fascinated with and I'm sure would tell loads of people back home about.

After dinner we decided to skip dessert and head off to a Morrocan place that I knew was close for some shisha and tea. Zaytouna wasn't packed, but it had some interesting (yawn) people in there. We took a couch and ordered an apple shisha with some tea. I had initially wanted to have my birthday party in Zaytouna but I realised that first, it was over priced for very little, second it didn't look like it could hold the number of people I had in mind, and third, I had read a couple of reviews on the place, and other than the belly dancing and shisha, it didn't get a good review. However, my friend and I just sat there like the good old days, talking, sipping tea and listening to some really good music. Here she knew where she was and slipped into her prime, sitting back and watching the world go by while listening to some random bits of news I had. Whether or not this was the kind of sightseeing she expected, I didn't know, but all I knew was we were both very comfortable. I'm not the best tour guide and I don't do tourist attractions and landmarks, but I do meals and laidback settings where you can sit and chat without worrying.

After we had our fill of the shisha thing, I decided to do a bit of the tourist-y thing and showed her Chinatown, and then meandering to my favourite S&M lingerie shop which was still open, and then off to Carnebie Street for a quick stroll before we decided to call it a night. It was a great night as she is just as low maintenance as I, however I don't think I could have been more laidback about it all. It's terrible really because it's not as if I was running around all day, it was only that I was going out to meet her. However, friends should know by now that I'm not one to show the sights, I'm the one they call when they want someone with the bitchy one-liners.