Posts Tagged ‘i love my parents

So a couple of months back my parents found this guy somehow and I ended up chatting with him on whatsapp. Without further ado, let the texts speak for themselves:


Text1 Text2 Text3 Text4 Text5


Why did it take me so long to post these?  I was just so annoyed. SO ANNOYED.

Asshole basically called me a judgmental gold digger.

I told my parents the story and had more than a high pitched voice and was telling them how awful he was, and my dad just goes:

Why are you getting all upset? Just don’t talk to him.

Which made me laugh because that was what I was going to do anyway, but I was all prepped for a fight with them about how I had to keep trying and how he probably wasn’t so bad but no.

Even they’ve given up hope now.

Dad even said,

If he texts you again, just tell him that he can’t start a relationship on the wrong foot. The ship already sailed!

Mixed metaphor, but yes, he’s right.

Luckily, I never heard from this douche again.






So, I mistakenly told my parents about this Indian guy, a friend of the family, who’s dating an Australian girl.

Fast forward to breakfast at my aunt’s house, where for some reason, I go to have my tea and they’re discussing this guy. I sit down to eat toast, drink tea, read the paper, and get bombarded with this from Dad:

“See, he’s dating an Australian girl because you didn’t try hard enough. You didn’t take the chance.”


“What? I seriously just woke up.”

Him – just being repetitive:

“You could’ve dated him, but instead now he’s got to date an Australian.”


Ok, first of all, Dad says all this like it’s a downgrade – like this guy just cried himself to sleep one night because I turned him down and then threw himself at the first white girl he saw, who just happened to have an awesome accent to boot.


HE! THIS GUY! HE was the one who said no to me (not directly to me, but to all our friends who tried to set us up.) What was I supposed to do? Force him to date me? Stalk him?

So I tell/yell at Dad:

“DAD! I tried to date him! HE DIDN’T WANT TO. WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO? AND WHY ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THIS ANYWAY?!   It takes two people! And he didn’t want to date me.”

I mean, it’s irritating enough that I wasn’t what he wanted, but fine, I get it…. but then I have to hear from my parents that it could’ve been me? NO, IT COULD NOT HAVE.  (Although, I love their faith that I hold all this control which I really don’t have).


On a separate but related note, I found out that these two are getting married. I’m not surprised, but I have to say I was upset. I’m not exactly sure why? It’s not like I wanted him, but I guess it’s more that he didn’t want me. Although, it’s also no surprise that he put more effort into and was not going to let go of a doctor…. But I still don’t understand how she got over all those issues that I couldn’t? The lack of focus, the lack of a real job, the lack of a life plan? Maybe it’s easier because she’ll financially be able to cover them if she needs to? Or maybe I couldn’t get past all that and see everything else he could offer, which was probably more than he couldn’t.


Nothing seems to be enough anymore.


A couple of days ago, Mom and I were talking and she says to me that she talked to my Dad about me possibly adopting. He had concerns, of course, and apparently said to Mom:

Just tell her to find someone and move in with them.


Ummmmmmmmmmmmm……..sure. Like that’s so f’ing easy. But you know, I’ll go with that plan because it seems easier than the marriage one. And the adoption one.


Mom and I were talking again, and I brought up going to India like we’d been discussing. I thought they were both on board with the idea for a winter trip…. and then Mom says that Dad doesn’t want to go, because all anyone talks about is me not being married.


AND THEN. Mom takes the conversation to boys, or course.


Are you talking to anyone?




You know, everyone can’t be weird.You have to give people a chance! Maybe they’re better in person than they are on email.


MOM! I give SO many guys chances, even all the weirdos. My friends agree with me! I make sure I’m not being picky!


Well, maybe they think you’re weird? Maybe you’re the strange one? I’m just saying give them a chance. You never know.


Clearly, she doesn’t know about ALL the guys I’ve ever talked to/dated/got stood up by, so I understand why she thinks I’m not trying hard enough.

Maybe I should just send her the link to this blog.








A while back, my dad had said he didn’t want to go to India till I was married, because that was the only topic of conversation everyone wanted to discuss.

On our recent vacation together, he and mom mentioned they are thinking of going in January.

That was the first sign that they’re moving beyond hope.

In any case, I told them I wanted to go to… it’s been so long for me and it’s time to make a trip.

Then, as my mom and I were walking together, she busts out with this:

“You know, your aunt was telling me about someone they know who’s your age. Her younger sister got married and she hasn’t met anyone and is tired of waiting, so she adopted a girl from India.”


“ummmmmmmm……………. ok…………………..”


“Since we’re going in January, you should think about it. We can look around while we’re there.”


“ummmmmmmm……………. ok…………………..”



“If you adopted a small baby, I’d come live with you and help you.”



“ummmmmmmm……………. ok…………………..”



“At least that way, you’d have someone and you’d also be helping make someone else’s life better. It’s a good thing to do.”


Ok, so the thing is, I’ve considered this, but I never thought they would be on board. I always figured they’d think it’d ruin my chances of meeting someone. Dad may still feel that way, but Mom is definitely looking beyond just marriage now.

In any case, clearly, this is the biggest sign that they’ve given up hope.

I thought I’d be sad when this day finally came, but I’m glad they’re facing reality now. I do want kids, and although I didn’t think I’d ever be a single mother, maybe this is my path.

Just call me Angelina 😉





I had two lunch dates this past week, both Indian guys, met through different avenues. Lunch date #1 was through my parents (god knows how they found him, I don’t ask anymore) and Lunch date #2 was through Shaadi – the Indian dating website.

So let’s start at the beginning:


Lunch Date #1:  He’s a divorced FOB, been here in the States for 8 years. He’s a doctor from India, but now working on his MBA, of course. That was pretty much all I knew. We had gone back and forth on text a bit, and we settled on an Indian place for Saturday lunch.

He walked up (I got there first) and I was pleasantly surprised.

Not bad looking, nicely dressed and nice shoes. He sits and we start chatting – there were some definite “Huh?” moments as I speak pretty fast, and English is his second language, but for the most part it wasn’t that awkward.

In fact, there are things about him that I really like – he’s adventurous, he’s a meat eater (yes, I know. I’m the world’s biggest hypocrite since I’m vegetarian, but I prefer that my manly men eat meat. I can’t help it.), he’s clearly smart, he’s outgoing, he drinks, he’s not too religious, he understands the need for chemistry in a relationship and he seems NORMAL.

He’s still a bit of a partier, which I get –  he’s  a few years older than me, he’s been married/divorced (turned out she was bi-polar and wouldn’t take her meds – oops!), and I think he’s still just ready to go out and have a good time, which I can appreciate.

He actually called today to see if I wanted to go to Panama City with him for a Spring Break weekend. I said no – I mean, we’ve only had lunch together once. I’m not traveling with him.

And also, Panama City at Spring Break??? EWWWWW.   Ten years ago, I may have considered it… but now? No way.  So I told him to have fun, but that I couldn’t make it and he understood.  We’re supposed to meet up for dinner on Sunday instead of going on a cross-state trip.

So I don’t know. I didn’t hate him, wasn’t grossed out by him… but do I want to sleep with him? I’m not sure yet. Partly, I wonder if I should even care about that anymore (yes, I know in a perfect world I should, but realistically, does it matter??) – maybe he would be a good life partner in all the other ways.

There’s always a catch though – he’s interviewing for jobs and may be leaving the area**. SO…. I guess we’ll see what happens. I want to get to know him better, which is at least a good start for me.


Lunch Date #2: This guy was born in the US, has a graduate degree in engineering… and possibly doesn’t know he’s gay.


I walked up to our destination, and I swear, I’m bigger than him. He’s … slight. Not like he’s tiny, but definitely on the small side for a guy. And he makes jewelry. And he’s got a softer voice than I do (though, I have a loud mouth – that’s not really saying much).

Ok, I know all of those things don’t add up to gay, but it was just strange. I can’t explain it any better than that.  It wasn’t a bad lunch, at all. But it wasn’t a good one either – no witty banter, no teasing, nothing that would’ve made it seem like we were on a date as opposed to related.  He is, of course, unfailingly polite and sweet and we’ll never be anything more than friends, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him that so I’m pretty sure I’m going to be stuck seeing him again.


**I had only told my parents about Lunch Date #1, because they were the ones who’d set up the introductions. After lunch, I called home, and Dad answered and said they were in the middle of some religious thing, so they’d call me back – I said that’s fine, I need to get gas so I’ll still be driving.

He calls back in about 15 minutes and asks,

“So, did you drop him off?”


“What? I just said I was getting gas!”


“No, you said you were taking him somewhere.”

OMG. They are literally just making shit up now.

Anyway, Mom pipes up:

“I thought maybe you had some good news for us!”

WHAT GOOD NEWS?!?!? What in god’s name could’ve happened over a one hour lunch?!?! WHAT? I actually asked her what she expected after a lunch, and she sort of just trailed off.

Seriously, I don’t think they even hear themselves anymore. They’re on such fucking autopilot with the stupid marriage stuff, they just say shit without thinking.

SO THEN, I tell them lunch was fine (he paid, which I will admit, surprised me) – and I mention that he might be moving.


“Why don’t you tell him that if he stays in Atlanta, you’ll marry him”


Ok, in Dad’s defense, he was totally laughing when he said that, but there’s truth in every joke. And Dad did say that they know it won’t be a quick courtship, especially after he’s already been divorced once.

And then Mom spoke up and tries to be helpful but really just stabs my heart with:

“You know, it’s just going to get harder for you.”

Yes. I know. I’ve always known. I KNOW.

I sometimes wonder if there wasn’t this ridiculous pressure, could I have been happy with someone before now? If I hadn’t always worried about is he perfect – for me, for the family, for everything – could I have been more willing to compromise on things previously? I guess we’ll never know, but I really do wonder if things had been more easy going, less pressure, less “the whole family is worried about you” – would I have found what I needed?

But, that’s not how things are, so I deal with it the best I can – which is often to get surly and quiet and  avoid calling them because I don’t want to talk about this every fucking conversation we have. I’m not going to tell them he asked me to travel with him, but I may tell them about dinner on Sunday.

Although to them, two dates is probably engagement time. Sigh.




I’m at a age and a point in life where I fucking hate everyone. And that includes family.

Ok, hate is a harsh word. Irritated by everyone may be more truthful.

My parents 50th anniversary is coming up, and it really bothers me that my sister can’t compromise on vacation plans to celebrate it. She says she can’t take the kids out of school for a cruise my parents want to take because “they (sister/her husband/kids) are thinking of going to India at Christmas.”

They’ve been “thinking of going to India” since my niece was born….seven years ago. So now, all of a sudden, the year that she should use their vacation for my parents anniversary, she can’t, because they *might* go to India.

I love my sister, and her kids, but jesus christ that’s the fucking stupidest thing I’ve heard in forever.

And they can’t take the cruise we want to take in April because that’s tax time, and when her husband’s business does the most money.

Here’s the thing – I get that it’s their business and I get that that’s how they make ends meet. However, missing ONE tax season won’t kill them financially.  Not even close. I know it won’t.

I think (and I understand that what I think doesn’t matter one fucking bit) it’s more important for those children to understand what family is about, and what family vacations are like, and what kind of fun they can have outside of their stupid city they live in. And what that would mean to my parents, their grandparents.

And that’s what kills me most is I would do anything for my parents. And it makes me mad they won’t. I guess I can’t expect them to, but they’re so selfish – and so up their asses of their in-laws (both my sister and my brother, respectively) – that it physically disgusts me.

In Indian culture, all pregnant women should want a boy. It’s thought that having a boy is better for the family as the boy will take care of the parents later in life.  It’s why I’m the middle child – because I was the second girl, so my parents tried again, to have a boy.

My brother exists because I was a mistake.

I should’ve been a boy. I’ve been disappointing my parents since the day I was conceived, which is ironic because, years ago, when my sister was pregnant with my niece (and had had trouble conceiving prior to her pregnancy), my parents and I were driving to my brother’s place (this was before my brother was even thinking of getting married) and this is the conversation we had in the car:



“Your sister should have gone to a fertility clinic and selected to have a boy. They can do that now, you know.”

Me (after some quiet because I was so pissed he said that – they’d just spent a few days in MY condo, and we were driving in MY car, and he was talking about how a BOY would better):

“What?? WHY?!”


“Because a boy will take care of them when the get old.”


“Daddy…. let me tell you something. Your eldest daughter is useless – she’s so into her in-laws and that family, she’ll never take care of you. Your son… he’s also useless. He’s gonna marry some white girl and she’s not going to take care of you at all.

You know who’s going to take care of you? I am. It’s going to be me. I’m going to do everything for you, and I’m not a boy.”

Dad was silent for a bit and then Mom, from the back seat, spoke up:

“She’s right you know. It’s going to be her.”

Sure enough, it’s all true. My sister is so into her own life and her own family, she can’t plan beyond that. And my brother did marry a white girl.

So it will be me that takes care of my parents. And the thing is, I’m happy to do it because honestly, I think I can do it best. I don’t trust my siblings to take care of our parents the way I think they should and I know that’s a shitty thing to say – and it’s not like they’d beat them or starve them or anything like that – but they, our parents, would never be first. And I think they should be. I think they should always be first.

My dad left India in his 20’s. And because he left, there are, literally, generations of our family that are beyond better off than anyone would have ever imagined. GENERATIONS. And I think that means something, even if no one else does.







Just got off the phone with mom, and this is literally the conversation we had. EVERY WORD IS TRUE TO WHAT SHE SAID. And to note, Dad had been on the phone and then put it down for some reason, so this was the period where I didn’t know if he was back on or not (although, she wouldn’t have talked about this if he was on the phone, so I was pretty sure he wasn’t):


Do you do that exercise at the gym where you hold that bar and move it up and down with your arms?


Yeah, sometimes.


That’s why your breasts are so big.

Me (in my head):


Me (out loud):

Mooooooooooooooooooooooommmmmmmy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That is not why!


Yes it is.


You’re crazy.


I’m not crazy, I’m right. Why do you go to the gym all the time? Stop going.


AND THEN! Dad picks up the other line and hears me giggling and goes:

What happened? Why are you laughing? What’d I miss???


Jesus Christ. Does she think I’m doing so much pec work that my boobs have grown??? In her head, I really feel like this is her image of me:


Meanwhile, it’s really this and why I’m at the gym four times a week:



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