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We had a housewarming party on Saturday, even though I’ve been living there for a year now, and it was great fun. I got to see a lot of people I haven’t seen in a while, and a few that I just want to see more often. The night ended early in the morning, if that makes sense. But I know I’m getting old when the highlight for me came at the end of the evening–I looked around, surveyed the room and realized that no one had spilled a thing. I’d say the evening was a success.
So if you don’t know already, I’m a Muslim woman who wears a headscarf. It hasn’t always been easy, because I didn’t start wearing it full-time until a bit later in my life—around the end of college. And people always ask me if it’s hard or if I ever want to stop, and the answer to both questions is sometimes yes, sometimes no. The most difficult part for me is the preconceived notions that people have bring when they see me: that I’m a religious fanatic; that I’m terribly boring and lack a sense of humor; that I’m basically devoid of any personality whatsoever.
And then they hear me open my mouth. And let’s just say (hopefully) all that changes right quick.
But I still get puzzled looks when I tell people I’m a huge basketball fan (the Detroit Pistons are my boys) or crack a joke during a first encounter. And I just don’t understand this. Why do Muslim women who practice purdah automatically turn into caricatures? I always feel that I have to prove myself—not about my intelligence or competence, but about my sometimes gregarious personality. People usually can’t reconcile the scarf with any sort of complexity. I am not a drone, folks! I do like sports! I know rap lyrics! I do a mean impression of Dr. Evil! (OK, I am so dating myself right now.)
I’m curious—how does my scarf change your perception of me?
Once upon a time, back in 2001, I used to have this little weblog. I’d write all the time, and I kept it up for many years, but slowly it fell out of my life.
Well guess what, fools? I’m back. And I’m going to be here DAILY. That’s right, folks. I don’t care how busy I am, you’re going to get a post. So welcome!
Don’t spend too much time digging through the archives–they’re woefully cringe-inducing. Seriously, a lot of bad stuff there. As in, too self-indulgent, poorly written, blah blah boring. Family and friends who didn’t know I have this site: Hey! What’s up! Don’t worry, I don’t talk about you. And if I do, it’s all good.
I’m so excited!
Though Google does have my heart, I want to marry WordPress and have its babies, too. I just can’t be faithful to one Internet technology.
In other news, the bags under my eyes have taken up permanent residence, unpacked and are lounging around like they own the place. It’s been a long week. But launch on Friday, so it’s worth it. I just have to keep telling myself that.
ismaticalness@ynmil.com
I do love me some ismaticalness. I smell a new addition to my vocabulary…