Posts Tagged ‘love

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.








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.


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.”


He turned another year older and he’s facebooking and skyping and as young as ever. Love it. 🙂





I was chatting with a girlfriend today and we were discussing this past week’s Mindy Project and how we want a boyfriend like Danny – a little neurotic, but cute, sweet, funny and sweaty – in a manly way. Also, being a doctor is a big plus.

So there was a point in the episode (spoiler alert) where they were flying, hit some turbulence and Mindy grabbed his hand. Turbulence was over, but he grabbed her hand back.

I may have sighed, loudly, watching this by myself.

When I was dating my first boyfriend, we would often hang out at my place. I always made sure to have some meat-y things around for him to eat, since I wanted him to be comfortable. I remember vividly telling him to go heat up a pepperoni pizza one night, and he asked, in a really surprised tone: “Did you buy this for me?” knowing full well I didn’t eat red-meat/pork products. And I told him the truth – yes, of course I did, because I thought about him ALL the time.

Why wouldn’t I be thoughtful? Right? I think it’s a girl thing to do that kind of stuff, but maybe that’s just because I date the wrong guys.

Anyway, on my second date with “The  Bod,” we were discussing desserts and he mentioned he loves caramel. So, again, I made sure I picked up some caramel infused ice cream the next time I went shopping.

When we were hanging out at my place the following weekend, I offered him his ice cream, and in the same tone I’d heard so many years ago, he asked, “Did you buy this for me?”

Ummm… yes, Dipshit. I don’t like caramel, we discussed this. Why would I randomly have it lying around?

Anyway, he never finished it before disappearing into the abyss and I threw it out today.

So as my friend and I are discussing Mindy and Danny and I’m telling her how I pitched this stupid ice cream, she says, “We just have to find our “Danny” 🙂 And he will buy us ice cream – not the reverse 🙂 .”

It’s so true, and I’ve had that – because my most favorite gift from a boy, in my whole life (I don’t know if this is sad or sweet), was a cup of ice cream from my first boyfriend. So basically, I should’ve just kept what I had so many years ago, and I would’ve been set, right?

Another friend recently asked if I felt like he was the one that got away, and no – I definitely don’t think that. We would’ve never made it past the first couple of years of marriage because we were too young. Life would’ve got in the way.

But damn. How is it so fucking hard to find just one other guy who wants to buy me ice cream?



{I did read somewhere that in this case, she’d already had her own …. but I bet he shares from now on, regardless }







I hadn’t talked to The Bod in awhile, so last weekend, I sucked it up and texted him to see how his kickball tournament went:

He responded:

“Not as well as we’d hoped and now I have to referee today. How are you?”


“Not bad. Was gonna see if you wanted to grab drinks tonight, but looks like you’re busy.”


“Yeah, I wish I could!”


“Well, I’ve missed hanging out with you, so if you’re still up for meeting we can do something later.”


“Yeah, let me call you. I’m about to referee.”


Anyway he did call, waaaaay later that night and we had a fun chat for about 45 minutes. He said he was going out of town so we talked about meeting up this weekend after he got back. I told him that I meant what I said about missing hanging out  with him and he said he had too, and that he’d call me when he got back to make plans.

He’s back. And my phone’s not rung once.

Last night, I got drunk and finally had the balls to delete his number out of my phone. Let’s be honest, if he calls, I’ll still answer and go out with him, but at least I’m not the one calling anymore.

Today, I deleted out all the rest of the boys that I’ve talked to over the past 3 years (some I met online, some at the bar, some at parties, some via friends): 32 phone numbers.

That’s basically one new guy per month for 3 years. No wonder I’m fucking cranky all the time.

That’s countless dinners  and drinks and laughing and sometimes pretend laughing at stupid jokes and sharing the same stories in the hopes that things will work with JUST ONE FUCKING PERSON.

And then, because my life revolves around finding this one fucking person, my parents made me get on this Indian dating website. I think because I don’t talk to them about my dating life, they think I don’t do anything. I’ve literally had a profile up on another Indian dating site for 9 years. I should pull it down but I can’t even be bothered. I wonder if I’ll get a prize for being on there the longest of anyone, ever.

But anyway, they told me to put a profile up on this other site and I told them that my friend told me it wasn’t very good in terms of having guys from the States. They’re mostly FOB (fresh off the boat) or still in the home country.

And Dad got irritated (in a funny way) and says:

Hey – you just need one. So we have to keep trying. Maybe it’s one of ten, or one out of a hundred or one out of a million. But you just need one.

Trust me. I *know* this is a numbers game. I KNOW.







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.


“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…”


“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.

I just got back from a mini-vacation at my sister’s place. Luckily, there was a blizzard so the kids were out for snow days the whole time I was there.  (On a side note, how is it that I can wake up at 730am no problem when it’s to get up and play with the kids, but when I’m here and trying to get to work on time, I’m always late? )

My little monkeys, now 7 (the girl) and 4 (the boy) are my most favorite things in the world. Their personalities are shining through and they are just awesome to hang out with. They are sweet and funny and naughty and just a joy to be around.

It was my last day and my nephew was sitting in my lap watching cartoons and he says to me:

“Masi, maybe you can make a robot of yourself and make the robot go to work and then you can stay here with us!!”

I almost cried. I would do it in a heartbeat if I could. Hell, I don’t think anyone at work would notice anyway.

So then, today he told my sister the following (he calls my parents Nahna and Nahni, and his dad’s business is closed on Mondays):

“Mommy, maybe when we drop Nahna and Nahni at the air-pote on Monday, we can pick up Masi because it’s Monday so she prolly doesn’t have to work!”

I almost cried again when she told me that.

My niece is just as awesome – she was helping us make puri and my brother’s new wife (non-Indian) wanted to do it for the first time.

So my sister-in-law says to my niece (and now her niece):

“Look, we’re learning how to make puri together!”

And my niece says, completely unfazed and not stopping what she’s doing:

“I’m not learning. I already knew how to make them.”

HAHAHA. And it’s true! We have her on video helping us at the age of 2!

And then, they were both fascinated with my nose ring. I took it out for them so they could see it was just like an earring, and my nephew says:

“Can you breathe without it?!?!”

Adorable.  That also reminded me of when my niece was younger, about 4 herself and we were playing this alphabet game on the computer – she set it up for me to play with her but before she handed it over, she asked:

“Um…do you know your capital AND lower case letters?”

I loved that she double-checked – why assume that someone would know anything? Such a good life lesson, honestly.

I wish they lived closer so I could see them all the time, but I’ll take every second with them that I can get.



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