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Posts Tagged ‘family

Spent some time with my sister and her family… at this rate, I’m gonna have to count on her kids taking care of me as well as her, so I try really hard to be their favorite aunt 😉

Luckily, they’re easy kids to love. She’s 8 now, and he’s 5, and I adore them and discipline them, but shit…. WHERE do they get the energy? When we play “Simon says” I do things like, “Simons says touch your nose, touch your toes, touch your hair…”

What do they say?

“Simon says…. run around the room two times and then hop on one foot.”

Um, no. This Simon will have a heart attack if she does it. I always lose when one of them is Simon.

And, the little boy is SUCH a little boy. He tries to get away with things my little girl never did… when he says naughty words, she tells on him, and I try to trick her into saying them to:

Her: “He said bad words!”

Me: “What’d he say???”

Her: just looks at me, giggling

Him: “I said: STUPID. DUMB. AND SHUT UP.”

And I shouldn’t laugh, and I try super hard not to, but he’s so proud and giggling and she’s laughing, so while I tell him not to say those things, I know it holds no water because I’m laughing too.

The last day I was there, they were playing Legos, and he says to her:

“If you don’t give me the piece I want, you’ll have a big fat butt forever.”

My sister and I, eating breakfast just a little ways away from them, both (quietly) bust out laughing. And my little niece started to cry.  And I can’t be mad at her for crying, but he’s not a wizard, so really, she’s not going to have a big fat butt forever. Stop crying.

We of course told him not to say things like that, but yeah… I think he just does what he wants. He’s much more of a “Better to apologize later than ask first” kind of boy. And she’s more of a rule-follower.

A couple of days ago, we were skyping and they were jumping up and down on their new trampoline (and not of breath and talking at the same time. ARGH!) – and she got off so he could have his turn, and when she wanted her turn… nope. He didn’t get off.  In fact, he LAID DOWN ACROSS the trampoline so she couldn’t jump. She rightly went and told and I yelled at him, not laughing this time, and he just giggled.

And the thing is, they’re treated the same. They’re disciplined for the same things. They have the same rules. She just follows them, and he sometimes doesn’t. Don’t get me wrong, they’re both REALLY good kids, very well behaved (in public, home is different, of course), understand right from wrong, and are both really sensitive and caring. But he’ll totally test the waters, and she won’t.

Recently, he told me:

“I hate girls”

And I said,

“That’s not nice…I’m a girl, your mommy is a girl, your sister is a girl, your grandmothers are girls, you don’t like them? “

And I watched his wheels turn as he tried to explain:

“Well, I don’t hate girls. I like girls. But I don’t want to play with them.”

And then soon after that, he told me he couldn’t eat his sister’s birthday cake because it was pink.

Because of course she had a huge pink cake (which she was upset with because the display cake showed a big queen’s crown, and instead it came with a pink tiara, and she already has princess tiara’s so that’s not what she wanted) and of course he couldn’t eat it.

And of course, when her birthday came, she was fine with the cake and he ate a piece, regardless of the color.

They’re the epitome of “boys being boys” and “girls being girls” – and I love watching them grow up, seeing how they change and seeing their personalities really start to come alive. Maybe one day I’ll be able to give them cousins to play with 🙂

 

 

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As Mom and Dad keep on trying… so do I. And as each interaction crashes and burns, I tell them.

There was a guy who I’d been emailing with – he was really nice, thoughtful, sent really well written emails. We finally speak on the phone, and he tells me about himself, and then busts out with this:

I just want you to know that the Unitarian Universalist church is a big part of my life.

Me (internally): SIIIIIIGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Of course it is.

Him:

Yeah, I just have a thirst of knowledge about all religion and why we do the things we do. I don’t want to just do things for the sake of doing them, I really love to discuss and understand and KNOW.

Me:

Um…yeah. I’m mostly Hindu by ritual. I do things I know/think I should because if I don’t, my kids won’t know them.  Also, I have a religion degree – so … I’ve done this before.  I’ve had these discussions for a grade, and it’s not necessarily something I want to revisit.

Here’s the thing – I don’t mind discussing religion here and there. But all the time? It’s fucking exhausting. People like that are exhausting. I know… I took classes with them.

I just want to watch the crap shows on my DVR and not think about the higher reasons we’re all here. I’m not opposed to smart discussions, but I think I’m more vapid than he needs in his life.

Also, if I wanted a Christian guy, I’d just marry a hot white one.

The best part of all this? I told my parents and my Dad asks:

So…. does he go all the time? Or like just once a week…?

They’re so desperate. Any standards they had flew out the window when I turned 30. I swear, a Nazi could show up and they’d be like, “Well, he’s not THAT bad.”

SO THEN. Because the universe is trying as hard it can to keep me single, and doing a damn good job at it, I get this email from this guy that contacted me online, on an Indian dating website. To note, he is super cute, and I was SUPER excited…until this:

Thank you for replying my email, i think you should create a yahoo or gmail if we have to connect on chat, otherwise you can share you mobile number.

 

Um… this guy is SUPPOSED TO BE BRITISH. DOES THAT SOUND LIKE HE WENT TO SCHOOL IN ENGLAND, LIKE HE CLAIMS?

I did email he back, because he’s hot and I’m superficial, but the response I got was this – all punctuation, spelling and capitalization is his:

my grand father settle very UK a very long time ago and making it possible for my parents to also gave birth to all of us in UK.

Don’t get me wrong but i am always very optimistic in everything that i do and i hope this works out between us .
I have to stop here to avoid boring you with my long e mails, but i will like you to share your Mobile with me if possible , we can get more connected right there by voice and i hope you have mine as well.    This is my roaming number xxxxxxx and if you will i will as well give you my local number here as well.  attached are few of my Pictures.  So much regards to you and your family,please do reply me next with your Pictures.

 

I think I’m getting catfished. SIGH.

 

AND THEN.  My parents gave me the email address of some random mom out there in Michigan, and told me to send her my biodata. So I did – she emailed me back (very well written, always impressed by that) to just say that she got it and she forwarded it to her son.

He writes the next day, clearly from his phone, and this is what it said:

 Good morning.  What ifs your phone number? We can text and chat.  My horrid are very weird and wanted to make sure I was not ignoring you.  Look forward to hearing from you.

Ok – here’s the thing. I get that autocorrect is annoying and everyone has mistakes. Just the other day I whatsapped my girls and instead of saying, “I’m so confused” I somehow sent them a message that said, “I’m so sinuses.”

But you know what, I’M NOT TRYING TO MARRY THEM.  Fucking hell. Proofread that shit.

But I emailed him back, like a good girl and we just cut to a phone call the other night. He’s truly British, and so I was enjoying the accent, until this:

Me:

“So your number shows up as a Michigan number, but I think you’re in the mid-west, right?”

Him:

“Well, listen – I should tell you that about 5 months ago, I quit my job. The manager was horrible and racist. I’m living in Ohio right now but my mum thinks I’m still in Kansas.  She has high blood pressure and I didn’t want to upset her by telling her. But, since you talk to my mum, if you want to tell her, that’s on you.”

WHY WOULD I TELL HIS MOM THAT HE HAS NO JOB!?!?!?!?

Me:

“Um, I don’t talk to your mom. I only sent her the email with my info cause that’s the email address she gave my mom.”

Him:

“Ok, I didn’t know what was going on… oh, so you hear my British accent? [I replied yes] Yeah… it’s great. SUPER helpful in college… heh heh.”

JESUS CHRIST.  Are you fucking kidding me?

So we had a bit of normal conversation and then he says:

“By the way, you’re not so bad looking. You’re actually kind of pretty. I couldn’t just come straight out with a compliment, you know…”

I JUST GOT FUCKING NEG’ED.

So, I relay most of this to my parents (especially the jobless part and how he’s lying to his parents) and my Dad goes,

“Well, that’s just how some Indian communities are. They don’t share everything. So…. do you want to see him? “

WHY DO YOU WANT ME TO MARRY INTO THAT. WHY WHY WHY????

Well, I know why – because we’re all desperate.  We agreed (because my dating life is now only happening by family decision) that if he pursued or came to Atlanta, we should hang out, but that I shouldn’t call at all. Which was my plan anyway, but at least we’re all on board now.

And then Dad says,

Well … This is all that’s left.

 

Fuck. My. Life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

50 years ago yesterday, my parents met for the first time.

My mom’s college class (all-girls) was at the beach for Chandani Padvo. My dad and his friend happened to be at the same beach for the same celebration.

Dad and his friend, as boys will be boys, flirted with all the girls. As my dad said,

I wasn’t even trying to talk to your mom. I was trying to talk to her friend, but her friend was so shy, she wouldn’t even look at me! And then your mom came and butt in.

So, getting nowhere with her friend, my dad started talking to my mom.

He told her his plans of how he wanted to leave India, and go to England (at that time, America wasn’t even a thought – being a former colony, all anyone knew about the West was going to Britain for a new life), and how he had no money.

My mom, who had just met him, said:

I’ll lend you the money.

I asked her once if she meant it, and she said, yes, she would’ve given him however much he needed.

Now, leaving the beach, my dad and his friend didn’t have a ride back – so they hopped on to the all-girls college bus. The attendant told them to get off, but my mom and her friends vouched for them, and took them back into the city.

In the midst of all this, my dad had bought fabric to have a shirt made – and he left that fabric on the bus by accident when they got dropped off. My mom and her friends took the fabric up to their room, and my dad, for the next two weeks would call from the one phone at his dorm to the one phone at mom’s dorm to try and arrange to pick up the fabric.

Mom’s dorm RA got so sick of dad calling (there was only one phone and he was constantly tying it up), he told my mom to just go meet him.

And that started them ‘dating’ and a few months later, they were married.

A few years after that, they left for England and lived in a one-room apartment, with a shared kitchen (you had to actually put money in the stove to make it work), and both worked factory jobs, even though they both had college degrees.

They worked opposite shifts and rarely saw each other, rationed food at the end of the month when money was running low, made-do with what they had, and worked hard at jobs that paid so little.

A few years after that, they came to the States. Dad got a proper job as a chemist, Mom worked in a nursery school. My sister was born, then 6 years later, I came, and then 2 years after that, my brother finally showed up.

In ’83, my parents moved us to Florida, where they owned a motel until just recently.  They’re retired now, and to me, they are the living version of the American Dream.

Their decisions, starting on that beach to even today, have led our family to somewhere they couldn’t have dreamed of when they were rationing food and worrying about pay checks.

Today we group-skyped for Mom’s birthday, and she said they went out last night and she was so happy that dad put on a plaid shirt, because the first time she met him, he was wearing a plaid shirt.

We teased Dad about doing it on purpose, but of course he said it was just a coincidence.

And then Dad says,

Yeah, one bus ride and I’ve been stuck for 50 years.   😉

Good thing my dad forgot his fabric that day 🙂

This is, word for word, no changes from me except to redact the guy’s email address and personal info, an email from my dad to me:

that ad. from 37/5-6 doctor from {some city} says “seeking alliance from well educated indian girl.pl. send e-mail at

      xxxxx@somewhere.com
       that is why he did not reply to my e-mail.
        so you can write him a short bio and see if he is going to reply.
        he even does want want picture right now.so just write him your short bio
        bye
        ps. do not say anything about my e-mail.

Oh.My.God. I cannot even begin to explain the giggles I had when I first read this. And so many questions!
  • WHY didn’t the guy respond to my dad? Because he’s not a well educated Indian girl???
  • Does he, or does he not, want a picture now?
  • WHY can’t I mention my dad’s email to him? Is it going to look bad???
  • Why are there random periods all over the place?
Dude. Dad is hilarious and I love it.  I hope he never changes.
And no, I have not written this guy. If he can’t bother to write my dad back, he’s definitely a loser.

While in Tanzania, I picked up a Tanzanite ring for myself. I’ve wanted one for awhile, and being in Tanzania, the only place in the world where it’s found, I figured it was about time to buy one.

I came home with a ring I love, and $875 poorer. I was fine with that, because the jewelers had been asking $1100  – I had to negotiate big time just for that little decrease.

But the best part is, I’d been nervous to tell my parents how much I spent on it.

Me: “So…. I bought a ring while I was there. Tanzanite… It was kind of expensive.”

Dad (after some pause):  “How much did you spend?”

Me (with a little white lie): “Um…about $800.”

Dad (with total relief in his voice): “OH! That’s not bad! I thought you were going to say $10,000!!!”

Me (super loudly yelling): “DAD! ARE YOU INSANE?!??!?!?! I AM NOT SPENDING 10 GRAND ON A RING!”

Dad (kind of quietly): “Well, I don’t know. You might just do something like that if you wanted to.”

So basically in that conversation I found out: 1) My dad thinks I have NO fiscal responsibility and 2) I could blow a LOT more and they wouldn’t bat an eye.

Sheesh! How do they not know me? How does he not know that I’d rather spend $10K on a car, or paying down my mortgage, or really ANYTHING other than jewelry? I’m so clumsy and accident prone, I’m nervous about wearing an $875 ring, much less one that’s 10x more expensive.

Also, has he completely given up hope? Did he really think I basically proposed to myself? Sigh….

 

 

 

 

 

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.”

 

 

 

 

So when I was visiting my sister, my mom called me into the other room and asked me to sit down. Whenever she says to sit, I know I’m not gonna like what she has to say, so I was already defensive and annoyed.

Mom:

“I talked to your cousins in India. They went to a Joshi.” {Joshi = ‘seer’ – not a psychic, really, but someone who reads astrological signs based on birth-date/time.}

Me (more annoyed than I started): “And…”

Mom:

“Well, he told your cousin and his wife what to do, and if they listened, they’d be pregnant in 6-months. And 4 months later they were pregnant.”

Ok… let’s look at this logically. My cousin and his wife, who were both nearing 40, went to someone and told this person that their goal was to get pregnant. So this guy told them to do some religious stuff and they’d be guaranteed to be with-child in 6-months.

DID HE NOT HAVE A 50-50 CHANCE TO GET THIS RIGHT? Either they were gonna be pregnant or not. Holy F.U.C.K.

So then she says,

“I asked them to take your information and he said you have to to do ‘ek-vaar’ {eat only once a day/fast the rest of the day} on Saturdays and Sundays and you’ll be married by May.”

I just looked at her.  Then I said this:

“Mom. Are you INSANE???? You want me to fast on the weekends when I should be out with my friends??? NO. I am NOT doing it.”

And then I felt bad for calling her insane and was super nice to her the rest of the day. And luckily, she didn’t cry like I thought she was going to… and I just walked away.

Turns out she’d already had this talk with my sister and my sister, THANK GOD, prepped her for my refusal.

Here’s the thing:

  • As my friend, F, noted – my food groups on the weekends are liquor and cheese. HOW THE HELL AM I GOING TO GIVE THAT UP?!?!?!
  • Also, I have a better chance of meeting a guy in a bar than I do starving myself at home.
  • And… I DO NOT BELIEVE IN IT. Why does God want me to be hungry so I can find a husband? WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF LOGIC IS THIS?
  • If all it took to get what you wanted was to do some fasts, wouldn’t all of Syria be on a hunger strike right now?
  • AND… May is a few months away. Does she think, with or without these fasts, that I would be getting married that quickly? Does she know me at all?

I’d ignored all of that until now – I just got off the phone with both my parents and mom says: “Oh, they’re making your ring.”

Me: “Umm….. what? What ring??”

Mom: “The ring you have to wear with the red stone. It’ll help you.”

Look. I’m not atheist (though every guy I’ve dated the last few years has been)… but I don’t believe THAT much. To me, my religion is much more cultural thing than it is a religious one. Is wearing this ring really going to help me find the love of my life? No, it’s not. Unless he’s gay and super into jewelry….

I obviously did not say any of this and just said, “Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.”

So then mom says, “Try do ek-vaar this weekend if you can.”

And I got pissed:

“MOM! I’m NOT DOING IT. What am I supposed to say when my friends call and want to hang out? That I can’t go? That I’m trapped in my place because I don’t want to hang out if I can’t eat or drink anything? That’s not fun!”

And Dad stepped in, laughing to help diffuse the tension: “That’s fine, we’ll do them for you.”

And then he changed the subject.

I’m sorry I don’t believe. And it KILLS me that I hurt her/them, but I do not believe that if there is a God that he/she wants me to give up my life in order to just get married. I could’ve been married a few times by now, and I’m not for a reason and that reason is ME. I haven’t found what I’m looking for or what I want, and when I have, it hasn’t worked.

And I worry about having kids and being alone and all those things that come with getting older, but I sure as fuck do not think that limiting my weekend activities so I can sit at home and be hungry is EVER going to help me find someone.

And if it would’ve and if I fucked it up, well… I’m sorry. But I guess the expected pay-off of marriage wasn’t worth the sacrifice to me.


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