Posts Tagged ‘mom love

So last week, Thursday, I called home and my mom gave me an email address from a matrimonial ad in the paper. It was the usual, “40 year old doctor, innocently divorced, seeking suitable match.”

Mom says:

“Make sure you right today. It’s Thursday – it’s a good day.”

As soon as she said that, all I could think was how does she still believe??? I sent my med school applications on a ‘good day’, I’m not a doctor. I have sent countless emails to these guys on ‘good days,’ I’m not married yet. I’ve done so many things on ‘good days’ and it doesn’t fucking matter one single iota.

But she does believe, and so I emailed this innocent divorcee on a good day, knowing full well I’ll never hear back.

She asked me today if I got an email back and I kind of giggled and said,

“No Mommy. There’s not going to be one.”

And she let out this heavy sigh and goes,

“Why are they so dumb? Why do they put an ad in the paper if they don’t really want to write to anyone? They should AT LEAST write back and say they’re not interested.”

Yes! I agree! Be slightly professional about it! I mean, I seriously doubt this dude is getting so many flipping emails that he can’t keep up. But what I do think is probably happening is that he is getting at least a few responses from women that are 10-15 years younger than me, and that’s probably more appealing than a 38 year old.

Even though I would be a suitable match.




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:



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 🙂

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.”


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.”


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 😉






My dad was on a roll the few days I was home.

I flew in on Wednesday night and stayed with my friend, A.  A’s been married, it ended badly (she’s the last story – worst #3) and she’s been happily not attached since. My parents came to pick me up from her place on Thursday and Mom/Dad came in to chat with her.

Dad (to A): “So… are you still single?!!?”

I gasped and A answered (laughingly): “Yes! I’m not seeing anyone. Still single.”

Dad: “That’s what’s wrong with both you girls. You don’t get serious. You have to try and settle down! Meet a nice boy!”

OMG! SHE’S NOT EVEN INDIAN! They’ve expanded their marriage harassment to any and everyone that crosses their path.

Luckily, she didn’t get offended and answered all his ridiculous questions sweetly.

The next day, we had to go to the bank (we went to three Walmarts and 2 banks while I was home. FUN.) – ok, my Dad has been speaking English since he was in his teens. Somehow he still manages to fuck it up. We’re talking to the banker and finish up getting CD rates (.05%?!?!?! That’s not even worth putting money in the bank!) and the banker asks me, “Is this your dad?” and I say yes, and out of Dad’s mouth:

“Yeah, that’s my dad.”

Talking about me. My Mom and I nearly pissed ourselves laughing. To his credit, he heard what he said immediately (and probably saw us laughing) and corrected himself: “I mean, that’s my daughter.”

The last day I was home, we got the professional pictures from my brother’s Christian ceremony (he married a white girl)… During the ceremony, they did the whole ‘throw the garter’ tradition. Ok, can I just say… I think it’s gross. The whole thing – pulling the garter off the new bride, throwing it and then having the guy who caught it put on the girl who caught the bouquet – it’s just so weirdly sexual in front of everyone. I am not a fan.

Anyway, my youngest cousin (who’s 27 but I still think he’s a baby) caught the garter. So, we’re looking at the pics, and we get to the one where my brother is hugging our cousin after catching the garter, and Dad says, “Oh, did I tell you what I said to him after he caught it?”

Me and Mom (apprehensively): “No…..”

Dad: “I said, ‘I hope it’s not her Tampax!'”

And then he laughed hysterically at himself. And both me and mom had scrunched up noses and just said, “Ewwww!!!! Gross!!”


So many questions that will never be answered…

And finally, their laptop was soooo slow that I decided to order them a new one. At first, he protested: “No, we don’t need it. All I do is my email and youtube.”

Which is true, but we also skype and they have such poor quality – so I bought the new laptop and had it shipped to them. Yesterday I was talking to them and Dad says, “God. This damn computer is so slow!”

I know!!! That’s why I bought a new one!!!!! The new computer got dropped off today and they called this morning to let me know – I literally just called them about 10 minutes ago and asked how they liked it… Dad says: “We haven’t even opened the box yet.”

Me: “Why not?”

Dad: “We don’t know what to do! I don’t know how to open the box! We were waiting for you!!”

DAD! WTF! JUST OPEN THE DAMN BOX. But they didn’t – and now we have a skype date in just a bit, after the news and Wheel of Fortune.

Sweetly though, Dad’s got more sentimental as he’s gotten older. Every time I go home or we chat, he asks me to move back – “Just find a job in Tampa – Come home!”  I don’t know why he doesn’t realize that if I move home I’ll have even less motivation to get married – Mom will provide chai and fresh food all day long. Awesome. She’ll do my laundry and tailor my clothes and clean my room. Dad will fix everything (not that I would need a lot fixed when I’m living in their house) but he’d be super chill about things. We’d watch the Daily Show together and make fun of Mom. (It’s the little things that keep you a family.)

Sure, there’s all the other issues to consider, like I’d have to take a 50% pay cut to work in Florida, and that I’d never get laid again (not like that’s going so well anyway, so I wouldn’t be missing much) and I’d have to hear about getting married on a daily basis (but that’s not much different from now either), so all in all, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. For a month. Until we get on each others’ nerves and want to scream.

But till then, it sounds like a fabulous idea. 🙂

At the beginning of the year, my Masi (my aunt from my mom’s side) tried to set me up with this boy whose family she knows. The boy and I emailed a few times and the last I heard from him he was going to Vegas to watch March Madness and he’d call when he got back. IN MARCH. MARCH. SEVEN FUCKING MONTHS AGO.

He never called. Surprise surprise.

Then this weekend, my Masi emails me and says that his mom emailed her and that his mom told her that HE never heard from me. Ever. That we never talked.

That fucking liar.


So I emailed my Masi back this:

“Hi Masi- this was the last I heard from J on email. He said he would call but I never heard from him or got a message. I didn’t call either, since he said he would.  I don’t know what you want to tell his mom though. We talked on email so it’s not true that he never heard from me.

But, he’s obviously not interested so I don’t think we need to pursue this any further.”

My Masi, because she’s bad ass, just forwarded that email to HIS MOM. Awesome.

Seriously, when will these boys stop lying? When they can so easily be caught? Then, C’s mom called my mom. Because they’re still chatting apparently, and told her that C said he’d call me but hadn’t heard back …. LIAR. MOTHER.FUCKING.LIAR.

Right before I left to go home for the wedding, he’d called and left a message. I called him back the next day and left him a voicemail, and let him know that although I couldn’t chat, he was welcome to text-mext or email. I got NOTHING while I was at home. So she tells my mom that he called but never heard from me, and he thought I was still in Africa….

What part of my message where I said “Hey, I’m going home to Florida” was too hard for him to understand? WHAT PART?

These assholes make me so ragey. Like I literally want to HIT someone. One of them would be perfect.

{Oh – and Z’s aunt and uncle came to the wedding. His aunt called my mom tonight and told her how fun the wedding was and that I looked great in my outfit. Too bad she’s already married, because she’s got more interest in me than her idiot nephew.)



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