Desi Girl Called Isheeta

Riptide

It's like this.

You know how sometimes in life, you go through an extremely dry spell where nothing just fits the bill or cuts it? You come home to an empty apartment where hydro bills, Columbia DVD spams, mail-order diplomas and post-it-notes on the fridge with grocery list-to-dos await you... and are a constant reminder that these are a more prominent fixture in your life? It's a sad realization when you remember that your idea of coming home involved coming home to that constantly blinking light on your answering machine (or cell phones) informing you of few missed calls and voice messages from friends reminding you of the get-together reminiscent of a Sex And the City episode.. and then somehow, somewhere, somebody... popped the bubble?!

Until one day, when you just let it all out.

You stumbled across one of those yoga sessions held in a swanky Soho loft with 20 ft ceilings where the guru is none other than Mahesh or Ramu from the corporate jungles of Mumbai (and also reknowned disciple of the famous Deepak Chopra or some other Westernized yogi out to make his millions with his bestsellers and audio tapes), and while sweating out your stress armed with the power of chakras or aashnas or other samosa sounding what-other-have-you names you've mastered thats not Bollywood, you've decided that "hey, I've found my true calling, my meaning of life?!" and you feel SO liberated that you just. let. it. all. out. for. the. whole. world. to. see.?

I am NOT talking about letting out your boy for some fresh air!

I'm talking about opening up your heart for all to dissect and see, to hold, to caress, to love while it is still beating palpably and ominously.  And in a weird, intoxicating way, everybody embracing it... with the atherosclerosistic flaws.

When I wrote the last serious post, I guess I just had it. Not in a "I'm fed up, folks, I'm divorcing you!", but more like, "I love you guys so much, but I'm so sorry for.."

I wrote, and wrote, and wrote.. about the disappointment I am assuming I have been, and apologized for future expected disappointments. I wrote with lumps in my throat, oblivious to how silly the whole concept was. I wrote in my blog. Because if I were to tell them to their face, they would think being single has evoked PMS symptoms in me everyday and I needed to be admitted to a mental institute (hai becchari, she's so lonely now she's talking about naansense!" Which is so not true, because I am not lonely! Just... bored!) Somehow somewhere in all that, readers commented, and within that..... I found my acceptance and my validation.

Validation that I'm not alone, validation that it's ok to go against the tide, validation that it's ok to be human and not the stereotypical desi girl. Welcome to the 21st century, baby!

I wanted to hold on to that feeling like a new mum holds on to her newborn. I just didn't want to let it go. I wanted to kiss it and smother it.  Do you know how hard it is to want something SO BADLY, and when you finally get it, you just don't ever want to let it go? I embraced....  no, I grabbed it. I held on to it. I wanted to smother it, bask in its new mum glow, and just enjoy every second of that ethereal feeling of that post-maternity leave because heaven knows when you will feel that sublime again.

And then you grow up and remember that if you don't speak up, your readers will leaaaaaaaaaave you and unbookmark you and write you off like next day's garbage!!!!

So here I am.

How you been? :)

I'm graduating in 2 weeks, and I can't wait to be kicked around the curb like every new post-grad out there!

WOW

I am seriously blown away.. gobsmacked.... at the depth of comments I've received in the last post.

YOU. ARE. FABULOUS. Your words, your thoughts, your openness.

I am .... as George Costanza would say.... speechless. I am without speech!

There is so much I have to say to each and everyone of you, maybe I dont need to, but I feel I should. Cuz thats just me!

Ive got a major project due Monday so Ive been slaving away all week (in between shoe modelling... *giggles*). I'll write my thoughts Monday night.

See you soon! :)

Thank you all, for existing.

Isheeta's latest crush

Observe:

*giggles*

I dunno what it is about this guy.... he's been on "Heroes" for a while now, but I guess I've just crawled out from that rock now...

Those strong aquiline jaws... that perfect nose... those jet black eyes... that mass of curls sprouting out like.. err, bean sprouts... those perfect quiet sensual lips... that mocha skin... yum yum.. I'm even overlooking that perfectly ironed floral shirt from my grandma's closet

*slurp*

lol

So I just had another of my beloved 10 hour emergency trips with my precious mamma. That was fun. I can't wait to dole out my presentation to class tomorrow with my beautiful blood-shot eyes.

Let me see what this country of mine Canada has given me:

-snow snow snow... followed with a dash of snowstorms.... and then more snow
-overnight stays at the hospitals where I BAWLED my eyes out at the doctors AND begged them to please see her and all they said was that she had to wait her turn, EVEN... yes, if she bled to death.. finished off with the same repeated diagnosis of "but there is absolutely nothing wrong with internal bleeding these days, they are all the craze!"
-work like a dog attitude for no pay
-never-ending bills
-cant afford anything so cant shop
-guilt about the world because why is it that no one cares about anyone anymore 
-hopeless, mute, ball-less men who date

Now let me see what Dubai has to offer/had given me:

-sun sun sun... followed by sandy beaches and... lets see.. more sun!
-1/2 hour sessions at emergency hospitals with on-call doctors and treatments RIGHT AWAY
-work like an executive
-no bills
-shop till you drop attitude
-guilt free conscience i.e. I dont have to save the world because everyone's killing it anyways so join the bandwagon
....... still hopeless mute men minus balls... except they now come with mustaches and ask "yes, vaat ees your good name, please ma'am?"

Well..... I guess 6 outta 7 ain't bad.

I graduate May 15.

I've got a 1-way ticket for May 17.

You win, Dad.  I'm comin' home!

Pranks by God, but hey thanks

Before I forget, please vote on the new poll.

Seeing as everyone loved the shoe epic moment of trauma prank that I had to endure, I thought I would list a few other incidents that happened the very next day. It gives new meaning to Murphy's law, or as my mum likes to think it.. all bad things happen in 3's, so here goes:

I took one of my friends who is visiting to dinner the other night. I was talking to her, but my mum kept calling me... cuz you know, that's what mums do when you have friends from overseas visiting. It is a mommy policy to embarrass you, and to remind you and your friends, of the never-expiring curfew.

By the 3rd call, I get a bit frustrated, I raise my arms in the air, and hiss, "what the frook, man!"

PLOOP! My arms are too fat now because they cannot control themselves (thank you, torturous pilates classes, aren't you supposed to tone them instead of fatten them).. my arms flail like wild bats high on steriods and they touch the edge of my phone, and somehow my phone seems to have developed wings because they literally fly off and land in the stream of water filled with plastic lotus petals right next to where I was sitting (Spring Rolls at the Atrium in Bay St... yeah, now you know!)

"PICK IT UP PICK IT UP PICK IT UP!!!"

That's my friend screaming at me to pick up the phone... thankfully. Because I was too shocked when I noticed what had happened and my gut reaction resembled that of Bush Jr when he heard about the Twin Towers - a blank look staring at my soon-to-be Titanicized phone sitting in that tiled aquarium of water.

I finally develop some grey matter and reach for my phone, my forearmed sweater wet but clutching the damn phone.

We quickly dry my phone with our sweaters and scarves, blow on it, say some duas on it too haha, unclothe my poor battery in front of staring eyes... I know, how romantic... and funny how I always make a scene in public at my expense... and hope for the best.

Then we both start laughing because I figure this was my punishment for ignoring my mum's calls and saying not so nice things about them...

The outcome: A couple of hours later, I plug it in... it works like a bad TV screen. I go home and blow dry it, it works like beauty.  :)

Only a NOKIA, people, now you know!

Story # 2. This will make you laugh.

Friday we had a major snowstorm. It was supposed to start in the evening... but the morons at the weather station as usual got it wrong because, of course, the snowstorm started sometime when the world was sleeping. ok! No problem! Weather station people are human too, and humans make mistakes. I shall forgive, I say.

I really don't want to go to school at this moment, but then I remember when I asked one of my profs once if they ever cancelled school/classes for this program, he went... I've been here since the beginning of this school.. and we NEVER cancel classes. Snowstorm or no snowstorm.

Fine. I shall live, I say. It will be half day anyways, its a Friday.

I quickly get dressed to go to school, thinking I'm going to just make it in time for the last bus to class.

I'm at the bus stop, thanking my lucky stars that I'm warm and not driving, because I hate driving in this snow. I look around me, and I'm thinking, you know, class SHOULD be cancelled... the town looks like DeadVille, and what can you possibly hope to learn surrounded by all this fluff? How to harpoon a whale in the Arctic?! Pfft!

So I call Bobbles, and since he is still home, I ask him if he could check the school website or call them and see if they are shutdown or still running. Bobbles is one efficient dude, because he does both and says that there's no response.

I'm thinking in my head that I'm one smooth little cow because I've picked a school that not only does not have a snow hotline, but also doesnt update websites. It will be a miracle if I get a job out of the education I'm getting out of them.

Bobbles advises me that maybe I shouldnt bother with class today.. do I listen to Bobbles? No. What do I care about Bobbles.. Bobbles lives 5 mins from school, he can show up to class in his jammies and not have to worry about missing class. I'm also thinking I'm smarter than Bobbles because I get on the bus instead when it finally arrives. Yeah! Real smart, Ish!

My bus finally trods to its destination.. at 10 am. I am late late late, but I shall live, I say! Considering I have left my house at 7 am, I am thinking I did pretty good time, because I only commuted an hour more in this frigid storm! If I could have done a little jig in the snow without slipping on the ice, I would have!

I finally show up in class..

... and there's a sign waiting for me.

"Dear students, Classes have been cancelled because of the snowstorm. Have a good weekend."

There is a lady in the reception with a headset behind the glass door. She is chatting away. She is lucky she keeps it locked usually, because chances are I would have lunged at her like a wild caged animal and shown her how it is that wild caged animals have good weekends.

I shake my head, and couldn't stop smiling. Wow! At least the trios of bad luck is complete! Shoe prank - check. Phone in water - check. 3 hour commute to school for nothing - check. Everything check check check. Everything done, I will survive! I love you, Gloria Gaynor!

The next bus is in 30 mins, so I run Isheeta runnnnnnnnn Forrest-Gump style. YES! I made it! I get in the bus. I call one of my friends to gloat about how amazing my life is right now.  Ie, how despite ALL of this, I am still in a surprising good mood and I am not even faking it. My friend starts laughing at my stories and congratulates me for not giving into my usual repertoire of wanting to blow up the world in times like these. I'm REALLY patting myself in the back for handling all this with such grace and dignity, when suddenly, there is an announcement in the bus intercom thing...

"Please be advised all classes to York Univ has been cancelled because of this snowstorm."

Ok, ok, no big deal. All the kids in the bus are from York U. The bus driver asks them, "do all of you guys want me to turn back (ie not York U.. ie to MY school bus station which is not York U?)"

"YES!"

"Ok then!"

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo......"

I run to the bus driver, and I tell him, "Listen, I need to get home, and the only way to get home is through York U... if you turn back, I am stranded at school for 1 more hour which is dead and closed and cancelled and I need to get home NOW NOW NOW so help me God!"

The bus driver is a kind kind man, and I hope his wife bears him many many kids who will bear him many grandkids too, because he decides to go to York U all the way...just for me heh heh, despite all the other kids who will have to double back.. thanks to me heh heh

I finally get home.. at 1 pm.

I should have been royally pissed. I just spent 6 hour commuting to school in the snowstorm and I didnt even get to fall asleep to my prof's yapping! My school should have bloody posted SOMETHING somewhere so idiots like me didnt have to wake up in the morning and have wasted half their day. BUT BUT BUT... I'm just happy to be home.

I hug my mum like a two year old, she looks at me, and tells me "Go eat something".. awwwwww.... my cute little mummy....

"Yeah, go eat something, and rest for a bit... cuz then you have to start shovelling, otherwise we won't be able to get out of this house."

Oh. Shovelling. Wheee. I should be pissed, I should be rolling my eyes, I should be saying Uffo-this and Uffo-that.

But it's cool. It's still cool. I'm still smiling. At least I'm home, at least Ive got my parents and the smell of warm curry wafting in my room and totally ruining my clothes to keep me company unlike the last few snowstorms when I had to live on expired cookies by my lonesome, at least I'm not stuck in my goddamned school freezing and waiting for the bus,  at least there's a TV at home and my phone is working and not a substitute for a bad TV, at least I don't have to worry about someone stealing my shoes in a shoe store!

The curse of the trio has ended! Cause célèbre!

 

News and new things

You know what I hate when trying to get over someone (as useless or disappointing they may have turned out to be...even if all you had between yous were just plain jane dates)?

Re-living the songs that were shared. Meaning re-living the memories made.

OOOOH yeah. Y'all whose hearts have been smashed into a million pieces know what I'm talking about!

Sure, there is the usual living like a slob all day that follows and walking around the house in your pink flannels... when the dishes in the sink are competing with the strained peas clogging the sink (oh wait, thats everyday haha)... the fact that you forget what time of the day/month/year it is... when you forget to cook and live on tea biscuits and cat food.... when you reallllly don't want to socialize with any homo sapiens because it means pretending to be pleasant when all you want to do is cry in your already soggy cornflakes...  when you're dying to hang out with your girls or girlfriends because they're just not as dumb or mean as boys, only to realize that you have none because you've been too busy by yourself to have given them the time of day when it really mattered... when Animal Planet documentaries depicting the mating rituals of rhinoceros has suddenly become the next best thing...

Yeah, I'm not going through any of those, thank you very much!

What I'm going through is knowing that I've shared my best songs with dipsticks, and now when I listen to them, they remind me of said dipsticks!

So far, I've used up Fisher's I Will Love You, Anwar's Maula Mere,and George's Talk To Me. Hottdamn. I love these babies. They were going to be the songs that I was going to make for my wedding... y'know, a corny CD you'd make as a giveaway to wedding invitees lol and maybe play in the first dance etc..  in addition to a funky Baby Got Back like these guys (Oh yeah!) and now...now they'll be like every other song you listen to on the radio!

I've got a few to spare, but they will be under Fort Knox security now! Na uh! I'm not wasting any more of my precious on any stupid losers.

So to stop myself from re-living songs, and since this is a New Year and all and it will obviously be permeated by New Isheeta, New Lease on Life, albeit same old cliches, I thought I'd start it off with a bang - and bang I did!

I joined a Pilates class... Zen, I dunno if you should try this!

I think I died halfway in my Pilates class... and then God decided to have mercy on me (or my abs), and brought me back alive. It was excruciating.. But FABULOUS. 9 more weeks and I'm the next Jess Alba! YES! Goodbye pregnant-lookin tummy! Goodbye to obesity! Helllllooooooooo lean, mean, fighting, ifyoureabitchtomeIwillSOkickyourass machine!

So after my reincarnation, I came home. And then I thought, man, once a week of pain just isn't going to be enough for me to substitute my songs with. I need something else. I look at my gym schedule. Well, well, well.....whatdya know?! Kickboxing (cardio) class! Yes! Twice a week! YES! Sign me up!

And so I went to my 1st class yesterday. I had never ever joined any of these gym classes before because they sound so.... gay. I mean, I figure I'm into more exciting things, y'know - give me skydiving, whitewater rafting, falling on my butt in ice skating any day if I want to live a little. I still get nightmares about the aerobic classes that you've seen your older cousins work out to... you know, when you see ladies wearing one-piece with tights to workout *shudder*. (I remember lots of Arab guys in dishdashas guys in Dubai loving her... hahahahha.. and Pamela from Baywatch haha). Sorry, but I would rather be dumped by 50 Jabba the Hutts than do that fashion faux pas.  BUT, hey, I figured....if I'm gay, that'd mean, I'm a lesbian. And since I wouldnt be a  butch lesbian, this would mean I'd be a hot lesbian, like Portia de Rossi hot.

Can you die twice? Yes, you can, cuz I did. I thought my feet was going to fall off my legs. Is it possible for your toes to have other functions besides finding furniture in the dark?! YES! Man! I had no idea punching or kicking in air can so drain you out! Or imagining punching all the jerks' imaginary faces lol Yeah! I was drained last night. The instructor wouldn't stop.... for the love of God, she just wouldn't stop. Everyone was kickboxcardioing away like synchronized fish out of water. I felt like I had walked into the sisterhood club of TNA pants and exercise balls.

I am SO going again on Thursday!

I'm not looking forward to meeting any guy in particular... for a long time, anytime soon. People who look down upon my dating would probably be relieved ;).  Speaking of which, I thought I would put this out there, even though nobody asked but you probably thought of it and are probably dying to know - When I date, I don't sleep/have sex with anyone. Sometimes a date...... is just a date. Its not rocket science. Here's a man sitting in a restaurant for dinner. Here's a woman across him sitting in a restaurant for dinner. No fornication there. A date is not the same as a relationship. I have not had a relationship... in a looooooong time. Any amount of physical contact would include hug/bitchslap.... maybe even a kiss.... depending on what a nice guy/prick the date turned out to be. If there was anything more, I wouldn't still be single, would I? Make sense, capisce? So there.

Moving on, I'm going to be busy with skiing/ice skating soon. I figured by the next month, I would have had done enough damage to my body to put it out of circulation for a while... and maybe reach a saturation point of exhaustion so that as soon as I come home, I will tend to fall asleep right away on the couch and just have no time for anything at all.

Then, time will fly..... soon it will be time to graduate... write my certification exam... time to conquer the world and dominate and all... get a high-flying job where I will put the fear of God to the minions under me..... buy an Audi R8.... leave this tundra for someplace in the tropics... go to Seychelles just because... buy a house in the Hamptons (I have no idea who or what or where this is... all I know is, people talk about the Hamptons like its Martha's Vineyard, who btw, I still dunno why she or her vineyard are famous because her talk show is in a studio not a vineyard, and people still love her because didn't Martha like go to jail for cloning some sheep or something) <-- yes I am kiddin, if youre smart, you got my sarcasm  

So yes. New Year, new lease on life.... new Isheeta, new activities, new jeans (smaller ;)), new stories, new life, new loves, new food... new..... new.....

.......new songs to make new memories with.

:)

Batting Re-runs

I've been ignoring ze blog of late ... Ive been going through the phase where I feel like all I'm ever doing here is talking about ME... and while that is the primary function of a blog, I still felt a tad guilty while being consumed by me.

BUT, with all the new faces I've seen these days (sf, Philly Zen, cece, Naina, shesgoddatouch, TFL,Azmaaish, Humz... memory people sorry if Ive missed anyone), I had to crawl out of my hole. Instead of reading back old comments, Im just going to check the INBOX and email y'all personally FRIDAY when I am done with my never-ending exams. Or when I'm procrastinating. I know, what kinda mess did you get yourself into, haha?! So, DONT BE HATIN' UNTIL THEN!

Let me see, whats been happening? Toronto is a tundra, at the moment, so it looks like death here. On one of the worst days so far (ie last Wed/Thu), I decided that as much as I love my Toronto, as soon as I start making money, I am moving somewhere warm. I dont know where, Cali or hell sounds nice at the moment, but anywhere where I don't have to see 70 year old couples struggling to walk with their walkers in the SNOW, for God's sakes. I cannot imagine being 70 and my grandkids completely dumping me to fend for myself in a home in this arctic freeze... although with the rate of global warming these days, maybe it will resemble more like Palm Beach so maybe I should get my hot-old-lady-bikini in gear..... ewwwww, lol

I went on a date with a guy last week who is... and I'm under-estimating here, an Adonis. A greek god sent by God to make me believe again in the beautifulness that is all MAN. I love men. Especially men that have nice chests (hair is ok too, but not all gorillaish). Beautiful chiselled jaw, luscious eyelashes, pearly whites, gorgeous smile, manly-hunkydelic chest where you can build a ship and just get lost in his arms, legs like a soccer player only leaner and sexier, and...and... you know where I'm going with this.

Wait, wait, it gets better.

He is THE nicest guy I have ever met in my life. A complete gentleman. Funny, street smarts. YUM. He is so much more yummier than McDreamy or Clooney put together. Damn.

Did I mention I LOVE HIS chest and I will probably never ever go back to a man who doesn't work out?

But I digress. He is not for me. Maybe to dream about, but that is as far as it will go. There is the small incident that, its probably lust, and he will give me the same excuse that RedBull gave me why it wouldn't work - he is Sikh, and I am Muslim, and so the twain shall never meet. I'm not even gonna try.

Before haters write me love letters, please be advised that your best bet would be to read my archives and realize that I am not going through the same morbid path where I fall head over heels for someone not of my religion and him dumping me (or me realizing) that we are too stuck up in our close-mindedness/stereotypes to accept someone who is not a reflection of lame societal beliefs and criteria for acceptance.

Good times, though. Sometimes I'm so glad that I've come to Canada, a land known for its diversity, only to go through the same roadblocks or stumbling blocks that we have left back home because we must appease our past rather than accept the future.

I am also glad that life has dealt me with irony of such finesse - where every guy I like and vice-versa happens to be either Sikh or someone not Muslim. Damn. Samosa said that maybe I'm too aggressive as a Muslim girl, and maybe she is right because I have yet to meet a Muslim guy who will say it openly that he wants me without adding astagfirullah at the end of the sentence.....because y'know, xpressing the fact that you want a girl is blasphemy, according to maulanas, never mind for dating or marriage. Or maybe its just me. Maybe I'm blasphemic. Or blasmophous. Is that a word? Of possessing blasmophemicness. Of the blasomophic nature kind. Hmm. Kinda reminds me of balsamic vinegar with sauteed mushrooms. Mmmmm.... lol... Anyways, the point is, I find it is easier to be accepted for who I am by other religions, and I dont have to put up a show but when I am with someone of my religion, he will secretly try to woo me over by being all faith-like, but when it comes to dropping me off home, he will linger that extra 10 minutes for an opportunity to fool around. I know what you're thinking, what am  I on.. TRUST ME! I must be some bad girl because if theyre not getting that, they go out of my radar. 

I have one guy who I have never met (from FB), who sends me texts that go, "Salaams, HOT & SEXXXY!" Haahahahaaha! See, what I mean? How hypocritical is that?! Why even bother?! You might as well be jerking off all day, then go do your night prayers and beg for forgiveness! There is no logic or sense in my life because I attract all the weirdos in the world. And then people say I'm fucked up. ME?! Maybe I should join the labelling bandwagon, call out people for who they are, and end up having no friends at all.

Ok, done ranting, next post will be happier! America, hope you had an awesome thanksgiving.. if you feel no, then just remember... while the world was greenhousing, and rife with political turmoil and death and going thru MOST of life's shitty things.... you're here in front of your super duper laptop with the TV in the background and munching on cookies and reading my blog.  Isn't that something to be thankful about?! :=D

Move over, Paris Hilton... America, here comes Sister Isheeta!

First, let me show you my mail these days (click to see normal zoomed version):

Yep. And this is my INBOX. Now imagine my SPAM box.

YES! Yahoo! I am an icon! Among the spamlords! I guess its nice knowing that SOMEONE, even if they happen to be spammers, are thinking of me!

Next, thank you guys and girls for voting! It seems that I have a whopping 2 readers from all of Canada! YES! Canada loves me! OR it could be that Canadians aren't that keen on voting... the elections on Oct were a good indicator anyways. On the same note, I feel like I have overthrown America's sweetheart (Julia Roberts or Paris Hilton, whoever is the trend a.t.m.) from her pedestal. I am shocked by the number of American visitors who voted! Awesome, America, I love you and thank you and will now make it a point to remember your holidays and anniversaries and other random birthdays (but please remind me at 24 hours in advance!)

Third, it seems like the consensus wants me to be a flying nun for Halloween! (see vote poll to your left). Coolio! I better dust off the dustbunnies from my nunnery clothes and get the broomstick in order! I will be posting up my final costume oictures after the Halloween partaays!

I also reminded the world that Halloween does not mean you're un-converting from your religion or anything. I met a guy today who says I am the first Muslim girl who is so gung ho about Halloween. Sure, Halloween has its pagan roots.... but you know what.... if Christmas and Halloween and Eid and Hanukka or Kwanzaa or Comic Day Convention can be commercialized and the rest of the world feeds the consumerism that is so rampant during such seasons, how is it any different with Halloween?

As far as I am concerned, I just want to dress up and have a ball. It has nothing to do with religion. It's all about being someone that you will never be 364 days of the year... d'oh!

So take a chill pill, anti-Halloweiners!

In other news, the last week of Oct/first week of Nov is Horror Movies Release week. I would like to say, that I believe I have already.... and still... experience Horror Movie week every day, sitting in class, watching Bobbles bobble his little bobblehead away. I love that word - bobble. Poor chap.

Other than that, who's got Halloween plans??!!! America, what are you doing?! Do my 2 toronto readers know of anything exciting going on?!

OMG!!!! I AM PREGNANT!!!!!

....WITH FOOD!!!!!!!  LOL

And they said you're supposed to lose weight in this month?! Ya right!

First, I'm going to put up a pic of me with glasses... I don't wear glasses any more, but maybe if I think I did once upon a time, I will feel smart again...(boy, that has to be the dumbest thing I have said with/without my glasses).

My parents just left the building today.... well,technically, the country, but you know what I mean. This means the stove will not be used for the next 3 months since I will live on salads since I am a lazy bum, my little bro and I will have "who gets to empty the dishwasher" fights, and when I fall asleep on the sofa, no one will tell me to go to bed. This also means that rishta auntiji calls will die down for a while, which as we all know is a relief.

I miss my parents already. Yeah they drive me MAD MAD MAD monkey.... but they're still so friggin' cute, especially when they STILL call me 10 different times if I'm out after 11... but whatever, they way I see it now....at least I'm getting calls these days, what with my non-existent social life.

In many ways, I admire my parents. The flak I get from my parents for impending spinsterhood cannot compare to the crap they get from 60 year old good-for-nothing-busybodies back home whose sole aim in life are to get everybody else's kids married off.  I also have to laugh at my parents' solutions to life problems at times.

"Can't find a guy? Come to Dubai! Tons of men!" (Maybe I'll post about this one day...hahahahhahaha)

"Can't find a job? Come to Dubai! Lots of jobs! You da boss!"

"Need a cheap tech toy? Come to Dubai!"

"Your fridge door not working? Come to Dubai!"

"Stubbed your toes? Come to Dubai!"

They've been so cool this time that when I told them that I'm quitting my job in Oct to concentrate on my post-grad program, they've said, "finally! good stuff!" Nothing about "Come to Dubai!"

My parents have come a long way. I've even told them that I might go away to Spain for the Xmas holidays (money-willing) and then my mum went, "go beta, go away, do your degree, forget that dumb job you hate!" And my dad, being my dad went... "Come to Dubai!"

LOL

I love my folks.

Day 1 of Ramadan: victims of child/sex trafficking
Day 2 of Ramadan: people who have to fast for 12+ hours in the HEAT in any country
Day 3 of Ramadan: people who I don't know, past present and future who have died for their beliefs.
Day 4 of Ramadan: all the jerks who have hurt me... I hope they rot in hell for an eternity... but still have mercy on them cuz its not their fault they were born with lint instead of brains.
Day 5 of Ramadan: People who've died in plane/weather related crashes.

I'd also like to add a word of thanks to those people who think that I've suddenly gone super religious with Ramadan and all. I think thats awesome, but please don't make me feel like a hypocrite. I try my best, but I'm no Mother Teresa. I mean, I do pray, but I can also be pretty liberal. I guess I've learnt that I can be both, and it doesn't take a village. 

In a related note, I'd like to send much hate to the guys who say one thing and instead do something else. I hope whoever you are, you're miserable for the rest of your life. Or that you meet someone who will also take you for a ride, because frankly, you deserve it. Or better yet, go bald.

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