From nudes to skin tones, to skin talks

Today, I sat in a talk which I thought would influence, inspire or entice me to like my supposed career path.

Here we go...

So, as I sit trying to catch my breath as quietly and as subtly as I could, the speaker is sat on the stage with a lecturer from my university in a Newsnight fashion.

At first, I heard “being the only Asian at that time,” he instantly got my attention.

He talked a lot, the questions formed by the lecturer were shit to be honest, “who was your favourite lecturer?” for example, what a time waste. If this was 20 years back is that question still relevant now? No.

I looked around, there was a mix of males and females from all backgrounds listening in to what this talk entailed. Not going to lie, I was waiting for one question. And that one question was brought up at about 13.37 when I was just about to check my notifications on Facebook.

I threw my phone into my bag.

“So I mean, erm so like would you say that the posh Asian girl who went to posh schools and received proper education is more likely to get to where you are at now, I mean working for the BBC etc…” and he went off on a dry ending as he adjusted his choking belt around his pregnant belly.

Hold up though.

“Posh Asian girl?” 

Who’s that pls?.

My neck twitched. My curls now stuck to my lip gloss.

I thought to myself…

Is this dick for real? I’m no toff, but I’m no scrounger either. But wow, that was a big dose of “fuck you”. Number one, what the hell is “proper education”, and two I ain’t from no posh school. So suck on my dick when I sit here knowing fully well I worked my arse to get to where I am, through cultural and religious barriers. Not a silver spoon stuck up my arse and Dr Khan as my dad. I want no medal, but that was insensitive and benefited no one in the room, instead he embarrassed his toff ass and grew pink in his porky cheeks.

“So how did you feel being brown, I mean is that why you got into the positions you did...?”

Lol, “feel being brown” ??  Like it’s a symptom of God’s mishap.

“It’s not about skin colour, it’s about the cultural and social background that you come from.”

I became nostalgic of that one time (in band camp) in year 10, I was pulled into an empty room and was sat at a table of Asian girls, and this one line shrieked in my right ear “don’t end up cooking chapati, we want to see you girls in uni!!” as I sat with sweaty palms and a throat full of phlegm ready to spit at this ethnic representative authority figure.

So I guess now I class as a brown face in university, and perhaps ten years down the line I’ll be asked the exact same question about “feeling brown”. Lol

Back to this talk.

The guy went on to say how he was someone who no one had come across before, he was new something fresh. All because he was a Muslim Asian male, full of ideas to make these controversial, religiously touching and political documentaries.

Okay. I can do that without having a dick.

My conscience spoke to me.

“If you’re from a background where you know you won’t get any help, it’s better to recognise that as early as possible, it’s very important.” 

Okay... 

“If you know you’re from an immigrant background, back then no one gave a shit what you thought about."

Right...

“If you are from a certain social status, or class then you immediately fall into the trap of being disadvantaged in the world of work.”

Yes I fucking get it!

I know the reality but can you give me something to take away from this please?!

Where’s my motivation? 

(Plays Motivation by Kelly Rowland.)

What I wanted to ask before his ass left the auditorium was, “where the fuck do I fit into this?”

I'm an Asian female! Does that mean I can tick a professional’s boxes like he did?

Am I supposed to seek creativity through “keep doing what I'm doing?” cos what the fuck does that mean any more?

“The degree didn't even help me where I am now, it was taking every work experience I could.”

Someone take me!!!

You know what? It fucking sucks having all the passion but no one to push you further. No Asian female that has actually made me go “woah shit, if she can do it then so can I!” Instead I'm seeing Riz Lateef presenting the news looking pretty and Mishal Hussain talking to Syrian political figures. They are symbols of success but…. I don’t see them for who they are, I'm blinded by their BBC microphones for crying out loud!

Instead, I'm behind the bars of higher education, work experience: work for other people so that I can gain a few more bullet points under the “skills” subheading on my CV.

“The BBC employs 12.4% (BAME) staff.” That stands for Black and Asian Ethnic minority people btw.

So you tell me, whether that’s deflating or motivating?

I need my bed. Where’s bae at?

*Realises there isn't one, eats cold pizza and sways to Isaiah Rashid.*

My Tinder experience

My thumb hurts.

I have been sat here crossing off so many people that I feel sick by the reality of what I am actually doing. Now, don't get me wrong, the soul purpose of the app is to dig whoever you want and get wet when your phone screen lights up to tell you "you have a MATCH".

Let me tell you my story.

So I'm sat in my living room with my three other friends and I am on the app store downloading Tinder. It'll be a laugh right? Why not. Okay, so I now have to go on Facebook because my current profile picture was not cutting it. Finally, I upload a buff picture and voila. I have entered the world of Tinder.

Right...so it's been 2 hours and I haven't actually matched anyone apart from my three friends LOL.

Suddenly I come across this guy, who looks racially ambiguous, 21 and good looking. Ayeee.

Fast forward. It's now the day after and I am sat waiting for my future manager to hurry the fuck up and ask me all the questions in the world for this weekend job that I was desperate for. I didn't get it. Anyway...

My phone lights up. It's a match. It's that guy. He says "What's good". 

This convo fi dead.

Surprisingly over the course of five days conversations and emotions started brewing. He was an art student, I liked art! I liked slow jamz and so did he. I guessed his favourite model; David Gandy. He guessed which uni I went to. We always talked, always. We had phone calls where he was nervous and sat through silences lol. Eventually we couldn't wait to meet up one day. 

(Yeah, you're probably listing all the possible consequences in your head, trust me so was I.)

It's the day before we will eventually meet and I am sat in Chicken Cottage with my two friends. All of a sudden I get a phone call. This guy is telling me he's at my university and thought he'd just let me know. 

Okay.

Well damn. This is a bit sudden. So of course as we had mutual feelings. (I thought.) I may as well take this opportunity to see the guy in person. I told my friends and with excitement we drove off to uni.

Whilst I'm sat in the car, I'm angry because he feels a bit invasive. I'm nervous because it feels like he wanted to catch me off guard. I'm excited that possibly he was eager to see me. I'm happy because now I can see whether the chemistry exists. It seemed to good to be true.

What if I'm on catfish? 

My friends stayed in the car and watched as I walked up to embrace my Tinder Romeo.

Yeah, he said he was 5'11...nah don't think so. But his eyes glistened in the light and his smile was warm. The conversation was smooth and beneath the layers of sickly sweet I couldn't help but choke on reality.

Something didn't feel right. He was nice. But Tindering, texting, calling and the meeting a stranger in 5 days. Too surreal for my instincts. Call me Drake but I have trust issues and my gut was in knots.

Anyway, I brushed myself off and obviously got gassed when I got home. My friends constantly teasing me like...."ayeeeee Is that you yeah?" I was asking myself the same question.

So it's finally our day! We were going to meet at midday outside Green Park station and he would ring me before hand. I got dressed, hair and make-up on 10. 

And I waited and waited and waited. No message, no calls. No nothing. Then I called on private and his sister picked up.

Tinder Romeo blocked me.

He blocked my calls and didn't see or respond to my messages. I thought something had happened. I honestly let myself think that this guy could be in trouble. What if he had lost his phone? Or didn't get home safe?

I should have rang Drake to hit the studio.

I was officially Miss Havisham of 2014. Hell no was I gonna stay in and let this get to me, so I went out shopping. :)

I hate shopping.

It's about 5 now. Like the investigative journalist I am...I checked his instagram and he had posted a picture of himself. He's alive. Oh so he is safe. He didn't lose his phone. Lol. 

"Keep smiling"-Bridesmaids

This emotional roller coaster wasn't even worth my eyebrows on flick and waterproof mascara after all. I let myself believe that this guy was just a normal genuine person after my own heart (pussy).

Took me 24 hours to get over it because it was hard to disconnect from the emotional reality of it all. But this isn't to say I'm sad, I'm just glad I went through this. And I hope he loses his phone and karma causes his balls to malfunction.

*laughs at self whilst Patrick my lecturer bangs on about government funding*

For me bae is out there...just not online.

*deletes app*

~Karma is a bitch? well just make sure that bitch is beautiful~