Actually, it was a lot of fun (“It” being the matrimonial convention I attended this weekend) – so don’t read this expecting my usual snark or annoyance, because I didn’t feel that way, which is a good thing.
As noted before, my table was the oldest. And the most fun!!! Truly – everyone came over and told us how they could hear us laughing and chatting (loudly) and how they wished they were sitting with us. The tables were 10 each, 5 guys and 5 girls, and we just had a good mix.
The guys at the table were great, but the 5 of us girls got along like we’d known each other our whole lives. And I guess in a way, we have – we all grew up the same, are the same age, are looking for the same things, and have had surprisingly similar life experiences in terms of traveling, family and dating. We were definitely having a little love-fest amongst ourselves.
But – to back it up a bit, it all started Friday at the Fiesta. Guess who’s the first person I see that I know? Yup… ‘Bidet of Jay‘ guy. He comes over to chat, I tell him the whole story and he cannot stop laughing. The best part is, as I’d sort of guessed, none of it is true. His sister isn’t even engaged!!!!!
Oy. Indian people are the worst at playing “telephone” – they totally only hear what they want to. It’s like if I told my Dad, “Hey, I went to the mall today” and eventually my cousin’s cousin’s cousin’s wife will call and say: “I hear you’re getting married … at the mall!”
Anyway, back to the Fiesta. Only one girl took the dress code seriously – she was in a neon pink dress and neon yellow shoes. She looked like a walking double-sided highlighter. But I’m sure she was very nice!
Fiesta night ended, and we were already in our “table” groupings – we got along so well that our table, plus some others, went out for drinks afterward. Maybe not the best idea, cause I didn’t get home till 230am, and had to be up 4 hours later. Dude. I’m old and need my beauty sleep. Ugh.
So bright and early Saturday morning, I put on my cute business casual dress and gear up for a day of smiling … the first half of the day was the ‘speed dating’ part – except it’s with the whole table. So, at all the tables, all the girls stayed seated, and then boys rotated around from table to table to meet all the girls.
Oh, excuse me – not ALL the girls. And we didn’t meet ALL the boys. Apparently, it was decided for us that the youngest we’d meet was 29/30 – since any younger would be a waste of time. Don’t they know how well I do with young (white) boys? Sheesh. Guess they missed that memo.
After introducing ourselves to over 50 guys (so it wasn’t like there was a dearth of gentleman to meet), we did some more ice breaker stuff with the guys/girls in our age range and then we started the ranking process.
THIS WAS ALL BEFORE LUNCH! What the hell, yo. Exhausted does not begin to describe how we all felt.
Then, the volunteers (who, I have to really say, did an amazing job – the organization of the whole event, how it ran on time, how they encouraged us without just pressing the marriage issues, reminding us repeatedly to keep an open mind – they were awesome) took EVERYONE’S sheet and entered that data into the computer and came out with rankings.
That’s 250 people, with a minimum of 10 people listed that they’d like to meet on a more personal level, entered into some database and then some program is used to see how you matched up.
THEN! You get a list of all your “1 on 1″ matches – so people that mutually chose each other. Plus a list of all the people you chose that didn’t choose you. Awesome, thanks for that. Plus a list of people that chose you that you didn’t choose, which just makes me feel bad.
I had 6 matches, 4 of which were ’1 on 1s’ – and I REALLY enjoyed chatting with all the guys, even the ones that weren’t a perfect match! I mean, do I think I’m marrying any of them? No, not quite yet. But I’m excited that some of the guys I met were cool and fun and at a very minimum, I’d at least hang out with them again. That’s better than my usual disgust at even having to talk to them, so we’re off to a better start than normal. A
Anyway, we finally finished at … 5pm. That’s 8 in the morning to 5 in the evening. THAT’S MORE THAN I WORK IN A DAY! Jesus. And, we all (and I mean the whole convention basically) went out Saturday night to a club. Let me just say, all I did on Sunday was sleep. I’m too old for this shit.
Oh – and – don’t think this ends after you leave the event. The organizers produce “The Book” – it’s the holy grail of single Indian people all in one binder. Everyone who signs up for the convention is in the book, with name/age/height/phone number/email for easy stalking. Seriously, though, it’s even arranged by “table groupings” so that it’s easy to weed out those that are too young and concentrate on the elder statesmen of the crowd.
My parents FAVORITE THING IN THE WORLD TO DO is to look through the book and mark off the guys they think I should be talking to, if I’m not already. They LIVE for seeing this book. And “The Book” is in such HIGH demand that unless you show up to the convention and show you’re serious, you can’t have it! They won’t send it to you!!!! And if you somehow lose it, sucks for you! We all guarded our books like they held winning lottery numbers.
We were highly encouraged to review the people we didn’t meet, and some of the ones we did, and to email/text/call and keep the momentum going. And I have to say, some of the guys I met have done just that – which is nice! It may not last or go anywhere, but it’s a good start.
The crazy thing was, during lunch, three of us girls were in line together and I just happened to mention I’ve never dated an Indian guy before – and they both said it was the same for them. There couldn’t have been a more perfect mix of girls if they’d tried. So… I guess the gist of this is, I went to a matrimonial convention and mostly came away with new girl friends. But, I don’t think that’s such a bad thing.
Although, my parents didn’t give a crap about the girls I met – when I tried to tell them how cool they were, all they could say was, “Yeah, but what about the boys!“ 
The other day, one of my Bhabhis (Bhabhi = wife of older brother or older male cousin) called me. She started off with: “So…. how are you?” and then very quickly swooped over to: “I heard of a boy in Atlanta. Are you dating anyone??”
As I told her, if I was dating anyone seriously, I would tell the whole family. Every day. Like, I’d find a way to bring it up in random conversation: “You had eggplant for dinner? Awesome. Did you know MY BOYFRIEND wears a purple shirt sometimes?”
Sadly, no – that’s not happening. In any case, she tells me that she met a friend who also has a cousin who lives here in Atlanta, and that her friend was looking for an ‘eligible girl’ for her male cousin, who is my age. I said, sure, send me his info and let’s see what happens.
My Bhabhi gets the boy’s biodata and pictures and emails it over to me.
Yeah…………. I know the guy. We used to run in similar circles and hung out every once in a while. I actually thought he’d moved away, but I guess not. Apparently, the push for looking for a girl for him is that his younger sister is getting married this summer so his family is looking for someone to make it a double wedding. HAHAHAHA. Basically, the same shit my dad tried to pull last year with my younger brother’s wedding.
I called my Bhabhi back and let her know that I’m not interested now, and I wasn’t interested before – I explained that we know each other and if were ever going to have dated, we already would have.
She’s silent for a bit, and goes,
“I guess it’s different for me – I learned to love your cousin AFTER I got married. So I guess I don’t understand why it can’t be the same for you.”
And to be fair – she said this with no judgement. She and I, though both Indian females, grew up massively differently.
And that’s because she had an arranged marriage – my cousin went to India for about 3 weeks, met a few girls, chose one, she also liked him enough to say yes to the ‘proposal’ and that was 15 years ago. And they are happily married with teenage twins – and it totally did work for them, as well as for ALL my other cousins who got married the same way.
I don’t understand how she said yes to marrying my cousin after just meeting him a couple of times (and knowing she’d have to leave her family behind in India and move to the States), and she doesn’t understand how I can’t have found someone by my age. Both are fair questions.
And briefly, I wondered if it would work for me? I mean, let’s face it, what I’m trying isn’t working…maybe just throwing myself into something with the knowledge that there was no other choice but to make it work wouldn’t be a bad thing??? Maybe it would work? Maybe I could find that good Indian girl deep down inside me who was built to just say ‘yes’ to someone who’s good on paper….
… But I can’t. Let’s face it – that is not me. At all. As I told Bhabhi, if it didn’t work out, “We’d just be room-mates.”
So, the best part of this story is that when my Bhabhi sent me the email, her phone autocorrected the subject.
It should have read: “Biodata of Jay.” Instead it read, “Bidet of Jay.”
Le Bidet of Jay
http://photographicdictionary.com/b/bidet
I was chatting with the parental units on my way home from the gym tonight, and we were all in a good mood. As I’ve noted before, they like to get on both cordless phones in the house and speak at the same time. Then they argue with each other about minute details that I don’t care about and then get back to me when I yell and remind them I’m still on the line.
Mom asked about the convention this weekend, I filled her in about the hotel where it’s being held and she was like, “Make sure you go on Friday night!!” (I had told her I may not be in the mood after work.) I filled them in on the “Fiesta” theme and they were both laughing at that as well.
SO THEN! My mom says (and I’m pretty sure she was only half joking):
“Go early and hang out at the hotel, see who’s there. Make sure you’re the first girl they see before they find another one!”
Me and Dad both start laughing and I said:
“Mom, why don’t I just hang out in the parking lot? Get them before they even check in?”
And she goes,
“No. Nobody wants a girl from the parking lot.”
HAHAHAHAHA.
SO THEN! They tell me this story about some girl we know, who’s Indian, and eloped with some Panamanian guy. And MY DAD SAYS:
“Why don’t you learn something from her? Run away and get married! Just tell us you did it after it’s done!”
I have massive giggles by this point and point out:
“Dad, we have a plan. I’m gonna hang out in the parking lot, find the first boy I see and I’m sure a priest will be there, so we’ll get married immediately.”
And Mom chimes in:
“No! I TOLD YOU! GO INSIDE! Go to the lobby or ride the elevator!!! Find a nice boy!”
So there you go, guys. By Sunday, I will be Mrs. Currylove. Count on it. And it will all be because I hung out in the lobby of a hotel… Like a prostitute.
So my parents aren’t giving up, but have been off my ass for a little while. And it’s due to one thing – I agreed to go to a matrimonial convention happening here in town.
This isn’t my first rodeo – I’ve been to them before, and they are NEVER as fun as the New Girl episode made it seem. Basically, the first night is like a ‘party’ you didn’t want to go to, where nobody knows each other but is forced to make conversation. The second day, you show up, find your table, and speed date for HOURS. Literally, hours. You meet all the eligible bachelors who also got roped into going to this thing and then at the end, rank your ‘preferred’ partner.
If you rank each other as ‘first’ – it’s an automatic “first date” somewhere in the hall, with some more time to chat. If you don’t, well – it’s a lot like a school dance where you sit around until you get called to talk to someone.
It’s a cluster fuck of amazing proportions, it sucks, I hate them and I’m going next weekend. I’m debating taking a flask.
Basically, a few weeks ago, I was out with some girlfriends and my mom called and left a message, in which she TEARFULLY BEGGED me to go to this thing:
“Beta, Please just go. I don’t have a lot of money, but I can give you $25 to attend this. Please try.”
ARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
So, I signed up because my mom’s tears make me feel guilty beyond all hell for not fulfilling my Indian girl destiny to get married and procreate by a reasonable age. Plus… hopefully… maybe… I’ll meet someone.
SO THEN… last night, I get a call from one of the helpers to go over some rules. I listened patiently – the theme for the first night (the more relaxed “getting to know each other” time) is “Fiesta.” I guess we’re going all out on the ethnic stuff then. I mean, we are the same color.
She says:
“Please wear something colorful, but nothing revealing.”
What. The. Fuck.
So…. I shouldn’t wear the new sequin shorts I bought for my Vegas trip ??? (Side note: they fit like a glove and I’d wear them to work if I worked as a stripper.) And how in the hell did she already get the memo that my “girls” like to come out and play?
AND – the age range for this thing is 23 to 38, so I’m definitely trending upwards on that. I asked her what were the ages that were coming, and she says, “Well, for your table, everyone is within 1 to 2 years.”
Awesome. We are the old table. Hopefully the rest of my senior citizen counterparts are as fun as I am 
That might as well be me in the middle.
http://shemagazine.ca/new-girl-does-indian-marriage-convention/
Adventures in Personal Training – Part 9 (aka, Who didn’t see this coming, part 2)
Posted on: May 1, 2013
I love my trainer but he is dumb as fuck. At least when it comes to relationships.
For an update: wedding’s off, officially.
They were supposed to go to Vegas for his birthday… that’s not happening either. She got ‘called into a work conference.’ Um… I just let it go, but how can he believe this shit? So he’s going to Vegas by himself.
So then, he tells me she’s moving out, because her dad said she had to concentrate on school and move onto campus.
Me, very confused: “I thought she was graduating?”
Him: “uh… no.”
OMG. SHE IS A MORON. AND HE MAKES EXCUSES FOR HER!
Him: “You know, she just had so much stress planning this wedding…”
Holy hell dude. Again. When you set the wedding date, did she not think of what she was doing in the time leading up to said date?
We did chat about other stuff, my whole work out session isn’t therapy hour, thank god.
And at some point, he said to me, “Get me a job where you work so we can travel together.”
Me: “Ha. Sure, I’ll call in all my favors and see if you can by my personal trainer while we travel the world.”
He laughed and says: “Yeah, so it’s not happening, but come on, we’d have so much fun together. You know it’d be a good time.”
Oh… he doesn’t even know. I would *break* him…. in the best possible way.
Adventures in Personal Training – Part 8 (aka, Who didn’t see this coming)
Posted on: April 17, 2013
So last week, I’d gone in for training sessions two days in a row, and both days my trainer had been in a bad mood. It didn’t affect my workout but I could tell something was wrong.
I didn’t really think anything of it, figured it was just work stuff but then he started talking about it…
Turns out his fiance (who is 23 and too young to be getting married) basically is FREAKING OUT and told him that although she wants to get married, she doesn’t know if she can do it on the date they’ve set. Which is 3 months out from now.
Um, what the fuck. The reason is she’s so busy with school and trying to get into med school (or whatever the hell she’s doing) and so she’s stressed. So… when they planned the date, did she not realize what was going to be happening at the same time? Like every time they put a deposit down on something, did she not think, “Wow, that’s right around finals” or whatever the issue is. (And here’s what I really don’t understand – school will be done in a month or so, so why is she freaking out about 3 months from now??)
THEN! He goes on to tell me that she’s been engaged before. When she was 18!!! To this guy that beat her!!!
AND!!! HE’S BEEN ENGAGED BEFORE!!!!! And he came home 2 days early from a work trip and found his fiance in bed with another guy.
Holy fuck. HOW CAN I NOT GET A DAMN CALL BACK BUT HE’S PROPOSING TO EVERYONE HE DATES?!!?!?!?
Jesus. I don’t think they should be getting married. But I didn’t say that – I just told him about my brother and his wife, and how when things get hard she shuts down, and I pointed out that maybe that’s not a characteristic you should want in a life partner, and he was like, “Yeah, that’s what my girl does too.” Awesome. Good luck with that.
So basically, he’s always worried she’s cheating, and she totally doesn’t communicate because she’s afraid of whatever, and WHY ARE THEY GETTING MARRIED.
I just told him to leave her alone for now, let her de-stress and figure things out. It may not be the answer he wants at the end, but what ever happens will happen and he can’t control all of that. He agreed.
I feel horrible for him. I can’t imagine being engaged and all of a sudden the other person being like, “Yeah, just kidding. I mean, I still want to marry you, just not now because of these bullshit reasons I made up…”
SO THEN!! Today I just asked “How are things” because I didn’t want to ignore that we’d discussed this all last week but I didn’t really want to bring it up either in case things went super south and he said she’d just called him and yelled at him because she failed a test and blamed it on him and the stress they’re having. WOW. So… perhaps this girl isn’t mature enough to handle marriage? Just a thought.
He goes on to say, “I’m about to have two rings handed back to me before I’m even 30. I am never getting married if this ends.”
And in the middle of my exercises, I just couldn’t hold it in, and say, “Maybe you’re asking the wrong girls to marry you.”
And to his credit, he laughed, and said, “Well, then I have no business being in a serious relationship if I can’t pick well.”
Basically, in my head, that translates to: “I can’t wait to fuck you.” At least, that’s what I think he meant.
Ok, my Dad is so cute. I know that’s in the title, but I cannot reiterate it enough.
It’s his birthday today, so I called to say happy birthday this morning and he goes, as usual, “Where are you??” and I said, “At work, Daddy. Where else would I be?”
He says, ‘Oh, I thought maybe you took the day off since it’s my birthday. Tell your work you’re coming home.”
I got the giggles and THEN he asks, “So, how do you reply on facebook? Every time I try, I just ‘like’ something.”
HAHAHAHAHAHA.
He turned another year older and he’s facebooking and skyping and as young as ever. Love it. :)
