Desi Girl Called Isheeta

To break, or not to break

2 weeks ago, on the phone

Dad: So how is it that you dumped Sandwich? 

Isheeta: I didn't dump him, Dad, he dumped me.   

Dad: Oh. Well, you don't need him, he was too slow.

Isheeta: Yep, don't need no slowpokes!

Dad: So who's next? 

Isheeta: Ummmm, I don't really--  

Dad: Cuz YOU don't need to be a slowpoke either!

Isheeta: Dad, I just need a break now. I'm not really looking. I'm tired of this shit. I don't want to. I need to get over this. I just want to relax and not think about this, ok?  

Dad: Yes, yes, sorry, you're right. You definitely need a break.   

Isheeta: I mean, I thought there was something there, you know. But clearly I was wrong. I put in a lot of effort there, and when you put in a lot of effort, you need time to recover and reasses and figure out what to do next. 

Dad: Well, the only thing you have to figure out is who. 

Isheeta: . . . . . . . . 

Dad: Ok, you need a break. Take some time out. Don't stress. Don't worry about money. We'll be home soon.                  

Isheeta: Awesome. 

Dad: So we're coming home on the 16th.

Isheeta: Ok, just email me the itinerary and I'll pick you up. 

Dad: So that means you're on break till the 16th, yeah? 

Isheeta: . . . . . . . .

===================

Today, on the phone

Dad: I met a young lady at the bank today. She's much older than you. She just got married a few months ago. Do you know what she told me? 

Isheeta:  No, dad, what did she tell you? 

Dad: Well, her hubby is 7 years younger than her. SEVEN! 

Isheeta: Wowza, times have changed!   

Dad: Exactly! So what's stopping you?  

Isheeta: Cuz I don't want to support a kid fresh out of uni or write out an instruction manual?  

Dad: What?   

Isheeta: Nothing.  

Dad: Try to find a guy from Dubai too, they're not as slow as the guys as in Canada. How's the search going?       

Isheeta: There is no search, I'm not looking, remember, I'm --  

Dad: oh, well, can't waste time, y'know?    

Isheeta: . . . . . . . . .(Ross Gellar moment: I AM ON A BREAK!!)   

Dad: Here's your Mom.         

Mom: So your dad met this young woman at the bank today, well, shes much much older than you, but you know she says just stop wasting time and just find someone and get it done with, you know?

Isheeta: . . . . . . . (fucking bank people, since when did they stop begging you for your money and give out matchmaking advice on whims, if I get my hands on her scrawny neck)   

Mom: Canadian guys are slow too, daarpokes, even if you find someone younger, just go ahead! So are you looking now?

Isheeta: Well, since you really want me to look, I have to admit that I met someone...

Mom: ooh!

Isheeta: In fact, he seems really nice. Very smart, articulate, intelligent, hot...almost like Obama! Yum yum yum! Oh he's black, thats cool, yeah?

Mom: He's black?

Isheeta: He's black.

Mom: We're not black*.

Isheeta: No, we're not. Will Smith is, but we're not.

Mom: Ok, you need a break.

(*reaction would have been the same if I mentioned the guy was white/asian/eskimo... anything non-desi so please do not take out the pitchfork just yet). 

For those of you that were wondering what I got for Eid...

(click to enlarge)

Oh lawd.

I love coming up with captions. Let me see if I can think of something useful here.

"Meet your soulmate, for 20% less!"

"Twen-nay peh-cent! I give you spe-shal twen-nay peh-cent off! Big save! You take money and buy cow!" (a la Russell Peters doing an Oriental accent imitation)

In a deep voice (I'm channeling James Earl Jones here): "Well hellloo Isheeta! I mean, salams, sister! Like my...topi?" (I am not being insulting here... I loooove desi guys in traditional kurtas and sherwanis.. and this would be fine on a buddy's page on Facebook...but when slapped in the context of a matrimonial site, it's a bit too rishta like.... so I guess the website delivers. Meh.)

And finally, the evergreen classic tried-and-tested formula:

"Vaant to make friendship with me?"

Sorry, I'm all out.

I leave you to get your creative juices flowing here! Amuse me! :)

Of men

Sometimes I feel.... no, I wish, I wish I was born a man.

Let's face it - somehow God mucked it up when he made me a girl. I mean, I'm sure he intended for me to be born a boy... my mother was already destined to give birth to 4 boys, would another boy have made a difference?

In a way, I'm more of a man than most guys out there even if I say so myself (if you're as strangely aroused as me at this point... you need help.. like me). I mean, I am the most craziest girl I know. One day I got tired of dry eyes so I walked into the laser clinic and the next thing I knew, I was getting my eyes X-Men cyclopsed. I got bored in the summer so I decided to go white whiter rafting.. and skydiving... and rock-climbing. I love sports. I've jumped off cliffs to dive. I've scuba-ed. I've jet skiied. I havent swum with the sharks yet, maybe one day I will. I love getting dirty (as long as its not my hair). I fall asleep on couches with the TV blaring like guys. I love cars. I've travelled *far* to see my guy AND girl friends when they were too cheap/chicken to make the trek. I love super heroes action flicks. I love comics. I love dumb sex jokes. I don't like porn or tech (hey 2 out of 2 million ain't bad). And most importantly, I love girls.

See, I might as well be an honorary man. It's only fair.

I think if I channelled my frustration with guys in a more productive fashion, I would've become some CEO or something. I mean, I waste SO Much of my time with useless shit like relationships. I mean, guys aren't rocket science. Lock. Key. Insert. How bloody hard is that. Not at all. I'm wasting this brain away... thinking like a girl just because I AM a girl. All the years of training and living with boys (my bros) have taught me nothing.

One of my very good friend told me that  I just don't meet the right guy because there just aren't enough men I meet who are man enough to take me on. Ew. What does that mean? How manly am I? I don't look like a man, as far as I can see. I have a nice face. I hope. Pretty eyes. Nice lips. Nose.. needs work. Hair ... debatable. I like my boobs. I like my butt. I like my legs. I even like my abs. I do hate my arms though (1 out of 10 million ain't bad). But then my friend also described me as "earthy", (I do wax, so not THAT earthy) self-confident and I am in a pretty good place, and somehow since that is somehow a whole in itself ie I am not 'fragmented' per se, apparently I scare off people.

Utter bollocks, I say. Isn't that how we all are? How many times do we go upto random strangers, or friends, and describe our innermost flaws? I will most certainly never go outright to the guy I have the hots for and state how much I hate my thighs and how I condemn them every day for not being Cameron Diaz like. He can very well tell me to my face how much he hates them, and proceed to never see me again. That is his job, not mine.

But apparently, that is where the fault lies.

The fact that I just take that for granted.  How can a girl be so utterly blasé about such trivial matters that a normal girl obsessed with the latest fashion mag be pulling out hairs for? But I am not! I just don't show it to people I barely know!

But then the guys I barely know don't know that.

They think I am immune. Invincible. And because of this, like a moth drawing closer to the flame, they hover. They come.

And then once they get to know me, its either sink or swim.

I have figured out that I may be a little.. overwhelming. Not overwhelming in a "ooh look at me Im so hot Im overwhelming". Maybe overwhelming in that I'm sort of there and.. I'm just there. Available. I'm not aloof any more. I'm not something to be ...working hard for any more. I'm not a field to be harvested any more. I'm just .. there. No more novelty. Just plain ol' me.

That sucks. Does that imply I have nothing to contribute anymore? Am I a token wear diapers, go to school, get to a good school, get married, wear diapers, die kinda person? I'm more than that. I have so much to offer. I am someone who will change your life because of my energy, my naivete even in a battlefield, my love for laughs, my innate sense of lovetillyougetjipped syndrome. I like to think for myself. I like to do stuff. I'm grateful for life. And I'm not completely ugly. I'm unique, in my own bubbleworld way.

So then it shouldn't be sink or swim to the dude getting to know me. But inevitably it is. I either get bored... or I become boring.... or guys don't keep up with me. For a plethora of reasons. They can't keep up with the facade. They thought I was someone else and I am not. They just don't fit into my lifestyle and vice versa. All these are the dumbest reasons I have heard. I'm going to go with the one reason I believe in - they're plain dumb.

I am not an enigma. I am as simple as an ABC book. I'm crystal clear. I am more transparent than Sue from Fantastic Four (that was one duuuuuuuuumb, albeit hot, costume). No riddles. How hard can it be to keep up with someone who is not a riddle? I'm so simple. Just like a guy.

Shoulda been born a guy.  I would have been checking out every girl on a Friday night if I was a guy.. instead of spending it composing a post like this.

This is why women give in to guys so easily

1. We don't have time to wait for you to figure out if you want us/like us or not.

Frankly, our biological clocks have been ticking away since we got introduced to Aunt Flo at 13. IF we wait around for that crucial time when you have finally figured out us.... when you have finally come at crossroads at 35 and have been to a million of your friends' weddings and are sick of clubs and have had that epiphany that YOU also would like to fall in love and have kids and someone to cuddle with at 3 am in the morning....  when you're convinced you want US to be carrying your sperms and carry on your bloodline... Aunt Flo would have come and gone, and Aunt Flo and us included would be 6 ft under. In a world where we consider a 5-second delay for an Internet page to load as blasphemous, this is indeed ... a *very* short time.

2. We pretty much know what we want the minute you open your mouths.

i.e. you. So we give in to you.

if we don't like you, we just ignore you.

You should be so flattered - unlike shoes, we have you all figured out before even hearing your vocal chords. Sometimes a look is enough. Sometimes the pheromones just do the trick. Call it women's intuition, or animal instincts. It is unfortunate that you tend to figure us out AFTER ..... just about everything. And still tend to be confused.

3. Relieving you from foreplay

Let's face it - foreplay is just not a guy's forté. NOT that there is anything wrong with it. Men lack the genes to master this exquisite game. In my lifetime, the only human being that I have come across who had actually delivered in this area was.... the lesbian woman who hit on me during salsa. Foreplay is like ballet - and for a man to admit that he is good at ballet is like him admitting that he knows quotes from Sex & the City. Case closed.

4. We don't ask for much

Sometimes a whisper is enough. Sometimes a joke here and there. Even dumb ones, we're not picky. Sometimes a thoughtful Valentine gift. Sometimes they cost money. Sometimes just opening the door. Sometimes it doesn't cost a thing.

5. Sometimes we like you just the way you are.

Sometimes it's just so simple.

So we accept. And we give in. And then we are considered as Easy as pie.


It's really unfortunate and ironic that we're considered easy because we like you as you are... because we don't think its rocket science... because we just go out of our way to make YOU happy.

Stop. Bullshitting. Me. Part 2

I wasn't going to post about this, but I need to bitchfest so badly at the moment that if I don't, I'm afraid my head will fall off and explode and splatter my laptop with blood which will not be a very pretty scene to clean up.

Warning: excessive swearing. I will not be very lady like here. If you don't like and will be pissed off, please leave now. I will not apologize.

So I met this guy, totally out of the blue, when I had nary a hope of dating any other man on this planet. I didn't give him hope's bells in getting past the first date because we all know my track record is by now half a date at the most.

But like a true charmer, he did win me over. I'm such a sucker for good manners. There are so many assholes these days that if you so much as open the door and pay for dinner, chances are I will think you are the Dalai Lama. He met me one day, and then he asked me out for the next 3 days.  And when I implied that no, sometimes people have plans consecutive days, he implied that maybe it means that she's really not that into him and since he is true metrosexual sensitive guy, that would sorta hurt.

And since he was SO DAMN AMAZING, and I didn't want to play any dumb cat-and-mouse games with him, I complied. Like a true subservient stupid foolish dumb South Asian woman, I complied. He called me every day like a dutiful husband to be, and I never missed a call. I laughed at any and all dumb jokes. I listened to any and all dumb conversations that had nothing to do with world news or events, that had nothing to do with anything of MY interest, that had nothing to do with travelling, that had nothing to do with pop culture, that had nothing to do with anything I liked. I listened with an open mind. When he stressed that he just didn't want to play games and wanted to get into a relationship, I listened. He even implied that maybe I should meet his little niece and family. I did everything that an old married couple would do, even laughing at the funnies together .. we did everything except the bedroom benefits.

A few days later, he tells me that... I... *sniff* that I'm clingy.

.
.
.
.

After taking extreme precautions to give in to HIS requests for night outs.. to coffee meets... to random meets... to random phone calls... to not hurt HIS feelings because I was under the assumption that we were on the same wavelength...  I was being told that I was needy.

THIS, to a woman, who chews guys out the first date if they are so goddamned boring. This to a woman who needs to clear out her calendars to get a toilet break. I never even told him to call me every day! to go out every day! SO NOW IT IS MY FAULT THAT I GAVE IN TO YOUR NEEDS?!

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THIS FUCKING WORLD?!!!!

Now I just got a call. And I was explained. Apparently I was too available. Apparently I was too bubbly and active for him. Apparently I just gave in too easily. Apparently I have all the virtues and traits to be a loving mother, but I am not good enough to be commitment material because I AM TOO FUCKING THOUGHTFUL about other people's needs. Nobody likes some dumb nice bitch. Apparently for a relationship to be borne into fruition, the MAN must love the woman MORE than she loves her. Who gives a shit that woman are genetically pre-disposed to be the more loving and nurturing gender... no, that is utter cockshit.  In order for a relationship to work, the MAN must love the woman ten times more than the girl will ever love the guy. Apparently I MUST play games INITIALLY, no matter how many times they say that they dont like mind games.

I have no idea where the fuck people come up with such piece of shit. What the fuck is wrong with them?! I hope and pray these people stay single for the rest of their pathetic lives. I hope they never have kids and..... oh wait, if theyre 60 when they have their first born, I guess that means they'll be dead by the time the kid can speak. Awesome. I hope this happens to every Tom Dick and Dickhead that have such fucked up reasoning in their uneducated brains.

My life will be so much better if I were to live in a world where there are only shoes for amusement. I am sick of dumb stupid dating games. I go to a date after like 2 months and I get my heart bitchfried on. I wasn't even looking. I didn't even want to do this. But what do I do? I do it. Gah. I've even told that to my parents, and then they set me with dumb potatohead morons, who look and sound like something the crocodile spewed out. And then I get more and more crankyness from random relatives and family. And then I have to resort to this piece of crap lifestyle inundated with dates. I just want to be a nun now. I am through through through with life. I am so happy just doing my school shit so I can be a corporate slave and just travel the world one day and maybe get eaten by some cannibals in the Amazon rainforest one day. That is now my life long dream. Anything is better than this. I have no interest in sex. I have no interest in kissing. I have no interest in relationships or other forms of lies. I am sick of crying and wondering what the hell is wrong with me or what the hell is wrong with the next jackass on the street. I am sick of making an effort to listen to utter bullshit only to be told that I am the one thats bullshitting. I am sick sick sick of these fabrications and these mating rituals that makes arranged marriages look like a game of musical chairs. I am sick of men. I am sick of playing normal. I am sick of being so thoughtful and then getting slapped in the face because apparently I am too nice???? WTF is that about? I  am sick of people who say they dont like games and then they do just that.

Why don't people just do what they say?! Is it so wrong to be honest for ONCE in your life?! You won't die from being honest, trust me! It's worked for me! And I'm still alive! Yes, it is one long bloody existence, but you get to sleep at night knowing that you dont have to remember any lies!

I don't get it. I just don't get it. WHAT DO MEN WANT?! Why cant they just figure it out first without messing my bloody head first?!

I heart .... non Hallmark days!

Do you want to know what I really really want for Valentine's ?

None of those candy/chocolate stuff, none of those plush teddy bear with Tiffany bracelets, none of those 20% off spa gift certificates in some seedy little nail salon, none of those fancy coupon books where you get to give your significant other a blowjob under a laundry pile, none of those internet Amazon coupons with 50% off ONLY THIS DAY!!!, not a fancy GPS that comes attached with a talking make-up box, no fancy babydoll lingerie with faux diamonds, not 2 tickets to all expense paid Peurto Plata where I will share a noisy adjacent room with a newly married honeymoon couple that will be having sex very loudly right next to my room...... nooooo, I will be one self-sacrificing heart-breaker because all I really want for this Vday is:

Exhibit 1

*drool*

I think I will reach up to the tyres... but that's cool. This is where step ladders come in.

We've just had another 20 cm of snow day. Who cares about going away to warm, romantic getaways to sunny tropics where Pancho or Pablo in technicolor mexican hats and accompanied by his trusty mule Pinãta will sing to you for your buffet dinner?! I mean, seriously, WHO CARES?! When instead you... or your driveway...can be bedecked this lovely bright orange ray of sunshine to clean the shitload of snow that has accumulated in your driveway?!

But I digress...

In other news, this lady apparently has self-esteem issues.

Exhibit 2

With the exception of Ms. Jolie & Ms. JOhannsen, I have to admit very few people get my thumbs up when it comes to Hollywood. But I have to admit, Ms. Mendes had my approval for those amazing gams and cheekbones and lips and tan and (not the brains.. which is just as well) ... well, you get the point. Then, like the rest of the nutjobs in Hwood, she checks in to some mountain lodge to recover from substance abuse, and apparently also to fix her self-esteem issues.

How can you possibly have body issues with legs like those?! If I had legs like those, I would have been QUEEN of the world! Queen Sheba! Queen Angelina! Queen of Self-Confidence! Queen of the Amazon! If anyone messed with me, I'd find the nearest couch, sit at the edge just about right, flip my coiffure back ever so with such delicate subtlety, peek through my tousled hair with my exquisitely kohl-lined eyes, pretend to fix an imaginary buckle in perfect sexy stilettos, and just make sure every living being 100 metres of me melted like butter. That's how you do it.

Man, some people have so much... like Ms. Mendes, and they just don't know what to do with it.

And some people have so much, like Ms Isheeta and her driveway full of snow, and they would love to have something to do it with, but they don't.

On this V-day, singles... I'm pretty sure you're in the same conundrum... vaat to do, vaat to do?

I know I know, trust me my precious sweethearts, I KNOW how much you hate this godforsaken dreaded "holiday".. I know you would rather take that bouquet of flowers that your colleague got at work (bitch!) from her what-the-hell-does-HE-see-in-her bf and burn it to ashes and dust to dust, I know you would rather stay home and rent movies like The Notebook and cry in your pillow at night at the loves you have lost (DON'T do it! this is not the time! Plus its a Thursday, and you can't go to work with bloodshot eyes), I know you are dying to know which jezebel/manwhore that bastard/bitch of an ex will be shacked up on that night, I know the suspense is killing you!

BUT be strong my beauties! (I sound like a pirate now, aaaargh mateys! lol). 

V Day is only as crappy as you make it out to be.

Some people really don't know what to do with what they have. You, on the other hand... be one step ahead - you decide to do something, with what you don't have.

I leave you with that thought. Go wild with your imagination, ok?! Its one day, you deserve to do something a little more original than all those dips that are funding Hallmark's!

I'll post full post-Vday mania Friday ;)

ps. to those married/shacked up couples - I'm all out. You got yourself in that mess, so yeah, you take care of it! I have nothing useful to say!

What you want is not necessarily what I need

I have a couple of massive ulcer-inducing tests until Thursday, so technically I should be studying. However, if I keep this bottled up until Friday, I will most probably explode and disintegrate like the pharmaceutical drugs I'm studying.

So # 3 from last post (pity date) called me over the weekend. I ignored it... and didnt call back.. I know, I'm a bee-yotch.. and then he called me again today while I was washing dishes and making salmon and couscous for dinner (I know I know... I'm hot AND a domestic goddess... WHY am I still single is beyond me!). He explicitly stated in my voicemail that he has something to ask me.. doesn't know if I am ignoring him etc, but he would appreciate me calling him back and answering his question.

I see his caller ID blinking on the phone.. I cringe.. I thought he got the "not interested so going to ignore your calls" message already!! I know I am a fool, but it is now becoming apparent that I date even bigger fools than me. I am so tempted to just hit delete voicemail, but I stop myself.

Maybe I should just call him and tell him 'no way Jose!'. Explain to him that his negativity and whining was such a turn-off. Even tell him that maybe he should have put on some nice non-ripped jeans when he came to meet me. Maybe point out that he should have looked like he made the effort by actually removing his work swipey card that was attached to his belt. Maybe enlighten him by telling him that "weird/dork/jerk" are not really endearing terms to use on a girl, especially if she doesn't get your sense of humour the first time she's met you. Maybe advise him on the finer points of not sounding like a desperado when he claims that the right girl will fix all his problems. You see, so many reasons to call... but my main reason to call would be because... well, I didn't want to lead him on. Quick, snap, cut it.

I mean, I KNOW he likes me. D'oh, considering I am his total opposite hahaha! I know I was supposed to just ignore him ... not call him back... and thus not give him hope by squashing all his future hopes instead... that is what a girl who's smart and who's got game is supposed to do. But as my good friend JT says.. I got no game! I felt awful. I felt pity for him (hence pity date hahahaha). I guess I thought, poor bloke.. he is so lonely. (looooonely... I am so loooonely.. I dedicate Akon's song to you, Pity Date!) The least I could do is explain to him the why nots and not be such a bitch. Show him the door and tell him what he must do to win over a girl. But I also remembered the last few times I called the guys to let them know I wasn't interested... I got yelled at. I am so not ready to be yelled at again by strangers.

So being the glutton for punishment, I called him.

Big mistake.

Pity Date is so happy to hear from me! HOORAY, he shouts over the phone! Claims how he cried the whole weekend after not hearing back from me... yes, drama queen, he was joking, haha. But y'know, knowing him.. I'm pretty sure he PROBABLY did cry. Yikes. Halp. And then tried to make dumb jokes. To which I wasn't very encouraging. And then he tried to feel me out. As in what I was planning to do over the next few days. I told him I was drenched in exams. Which is so true.

I tried SO HARD to tell him, listen, buddy, NO. It is at moments like this that I wished Real Life Isheeta was more like Blog World Isheeta. Alas, no.

I said a few half-hearted yeah's and no's... made a lot of clanking sounds with the dishes... subtlety does not suit me. I felt awful. I couldn't get my heart to tell him what he already knew, because it was obviously clear the bloke is in denial. I think he is frustrated. And tries too hard.... or not at all. I don't know. How do you deal with someone who has already fucked it up the first time?

I am just not excited by him. Not motivated to meet him at all or even look past his first few glitches. I think he will bore me stiff because I don't think he ventures out of the house to do anything remotely exciting. Yes, he will probably give me the world cuz he sounds loaded and all, but he will bore me stiff with his "please love me or I will cry" attitude.

Oh well. I guess I'll have to look past it. Life goes on. He'll get over it. Maybe he'll meet someone nice one day. I hope he does.

I, on the other hand, need to grow a backbone. Discover the world out there that needs to be conquered.

Or occupy myself with other shit on my plate.

Namely, my 50 year-old prof who asked me for my number today.

Yep. Oh fuckitty fuck. My life possibly couldn't get any better than this.

On Dating. Or lack of it.

This blog started out as an outlet for my many post-mortem analysis of my dating escapades... I thought that while I ventured to meet the "right" guy, I might as well write and learn from my experiences via this blog.... not only did it become a source of amusement to random people, but hopefully it has/had also become a learning ropes thingymagic, if you will, to the uninitiated. Including me.

I hardly date nowadays. I wish I could say it is because the well has run dry (hahahaha), but I don't think I'm that lucky. I'm sick of it though. I mean, lets face it. It is not pretty. I would rather stay home and watch re-runs of dumb reality shows (*shudder*) than be on a date.

It is a horrid experience that entails: Getting dressed. Looking all pretty. Ensuring the zit that wasn't supposed to pop up on date day is well smothered in make-up. Picking out outfit and accessories. Ensuring make-up is subtle and not tranny-like. Sucking in pudge for the rest of the evening. Cursing yourself for stuffing face with pasta for lunch which makes it really difficult to suck in pudge. Cursing yourself and your thighs for not being able to squeeze in those wide hips jeans, for pete's sakes. Flossing before leaving home. Eating slowly. Eating without sitting in front of the tv. Eating slowly in front of a *person* who wants to make idle chatter about his fascinating office job while all you really want to do is sit in front of your laptop and check out facebook albums. Showering. Straightening hair. Waxing. Tweezing. Nail polishing. Moisturizing. Practising giggling like a schoolgirl in front of the mirror. Practising giggling at his dumb jokes. Practicing to be like a lady when all you want to do is loosen the belt. Preparing to order salad without onions if you think you will want to kiss him. Wearing best jeans because he will definitely be checking out your ass as will go to the washroom to freshen up your lipstick.

DO YOU SEE?!!!

Dating is HARD work! So much shit, so little time to do it all! I'm not a PhD grad, but I am inclined to think it will be easier to be a sacrificial lamb and present your dissertation in front of a bunch of snooty PhD devils' advocates than being on a date!!!

So it is with a LOT of hesitation that in the last few weeks, I went on a few dates. IT took A LOT, trust me.

Added to the torturous scenario where you have to look like a million dollars, there is also the Interrogation that one has to endure while being on sad date:

What do you do for a living? What did you do? How long have you been here in Canada? How long have you been dating? Why haven't you found anyone yet? Don't you want to settle down? What do you think of arranged marriages and clubs? What do you like to do for fun? Can you cook? Are you a virgin? ... all thrilling questions I'm sure, but when you are being grilled, the only answer and visualization that seems to pop up in your head is, as always when you look at yourself in the mirror and instead of answering with an answer, you answer with a question in itself - what the f are you doing here, Isheeta, what - the - F, for frig's sakes?

The last few dates were disastrious... how do I sum this up nicely...

1. I had one guy yell at me on the phone on my birthday. eah, nice, I thought so too, I really know how to pick 'em. After promising to call me every week and never calling, Yeller finally called me on my birthday to tell me not to be mad at him because he failed to keep his word. Told ya I know how to pick 'em.

2. I had one guy smoke like a chimney away in front of my face after me xplicitly telling him my lasered eyes are sensitive to smoke, him further claiming that people who don't smoke or drink have something wrong with them. Said guy also claimed to want to settle down himself so someone can look after his aging parents, talked a lot, and implied that ME talking a lot was something he was not used to because.... y'know, its ok if HE talks a lot, but if I talk a lot, that I need to calm down. Said guy also parties like a rock star and no prayers in sight, yet when I mentioned my Halloween costumes, brings out the religion card. Yes, I know, What the fuck, but oh well, all in a day's work for our Isheeta.

3. The latest loser was a man who is very successful in his career and family, yet, cannot seem to find someone who will find him appealing enough to wed him. Which is rather unfortunate, because he does seem to be one of those nice guys, but unfortunately whines so much that he would have put a French/Italian winery to shame. How is it that you are so successful in everything that you do, but cry like a 2 year old because you are not in a relationship?  On top of that, this dude was convinced that if he found the  "right girl" everything would fall in place.. that he would finally get all that he wanted in life and live happily ever after with his fairytale princess, because apparently to some idiots out there, marriage is the answer to all of life's problems.

"Need sex? Get married!"
"Wanna stop eating fatty McDonald's? Get married!"
"Wanna lose weight? Get married!"
"Sucky internet connection? Get married!"
"Boobs sagging? Get maried!"
"MSG in your food? Get married!"

See what I mean?! It's preposterous! Marriage life sounds nice, yes, finally someone to wake up next to and make out like rabbits and not have to do the desi thing and LIE to your parents about never having done it, but marriage will NOT solve your life's problems! It will complement, fulfil, enhance your life... it will be completing half your religion, but if you do not take an effort to fix yourself up first, chances are no one will even look at you as marriage prospect.  Why would anyone want to be with someone who berates themselves constantly and whines about this and that? How repulsive is that?! Pick up your bootstraps, for f's sakes! And so 3rd loser did not last a day. As JT said, no need for pity dates!

Like the pity dater, I am sick of dating. I feel it is such a sham. The concept of dating is such a North American thing. I dont think Europeans even date. Neither do Eastern cultures. I do enjoy the process sometimes though, the process of getting to know someone who you might be attracted to is titillating at the very least, and the novelty is refreshing. I have even accepted the fact that nobody is perfect, and sometimes you really have to compromise by a LONG shot. Like ok, so he's ugly, whatever, he's got a nice heart yadda yadda yadda.

But still. God! It sucks to be me. Yesterday I met TWO dingbats who made me feel like on top of the world. One dipshit tried all the tricks in the book and wouldn't stop asking me out and saying how he wanted me to be his gf. I don't know what he was on, but I'll take whatever he was on, haha! Another loser inserted a lot of "you're different/special (retarded? hahahahahaha), friend crap." God! BOOOOOOOORING! Gimme something original, at least! Im not saying I'm all that or anything, I'm not, but for Pete's sakes.... shut up. Enough of games! Just shut up and GO and stop lying crap!

I remember when one of the losers was complaining how he was tired of dating, I was so repulsed by him.  "Would you like some cheese with that wine?!" And now, here I am, giving it the same heave-ho with the same tone! Only I'm not asking for a kiss at the same time, hahahahhahahahahhahahaha!!!

I dunno what is my point in this post - I guess I'm telling my blog no more juicy date stories haha!

Kidding, there will always be juicy date stories.

Example, today, I have started the new hour long commute to school. It was fun. I spied a cutie staring at me from another car/compartment. Instead of turning away, I started smiling at him. And he noticed. And started smiling too. Before you know it, we were exchanging playful giggles and smiles for a while. And then we got to our destinations and went our separate ways. It was a hoot. It was fun. I liked that. No stupid dumb dates. No dumb jokes or whining. No grilling. No checking for lipstick in teeth. No expectations. No nothing. Just taking life as it comes, enjoying the little moments, and certainly no post-mortem date analysis and looking in the mirror and finally not having to ask myself "what the f are you doing here, Isheeta".

Que sera sera, dateworld, it feels nice. Out you go!   

The good, the bad, and the confusing

So I'm sitting across this guy, in a sushi restaurant (this was last weekend), trying to suppress a fart (what?  taking my own advice, ok?! lol..! Shut up, I KNOW all the guys just got an erection reading this hahaha!), when the guy that I am sitting across mentions how he remembers me when I first landed in this country.

That was about 11 years ago. I'm not 1st generation Canadian, so yes, I did take a plane coming here (not a boat, ok, not a boat!).

I even remember what I was wearing...a tshirt with a pic of a cat on it... yes, I know, fashion queen!  and these big floopy trousers because......well, my legs were as sexy as tree trunks back then. Haha, oh wait, maybe I should be using present tense. Anways, I also remember having gone to a salon to straighten my hair so it didn't look like an afro for my cross-middle east-atlantic trip, cuz goodness knows, Canadian Immigration and Customs may or not look at that in a bad light! I also remember looking like crap because we gave away our cat (who died 5 days later after that but my didnt tell me this until 5 years after the kitty's death) and I had cried a lot.

In typical desi styles, we didn't know a soul in Toronto when we arrived... my dad knew this one guy, who bought his wife to the airport to meet us (and son to carry our 50 luggage with ghetto duct tape all over them). (Oh man, Im thinking of that Namesake movie now, except floopy pants were acceptable in that movie.)

Back then, the only boys I had ever talked to were.... my bros and a few classmates (who were not in the airport). Man, I was such a good Muslim girl back then, ahahaha, good times! So of course, when the luggage was being man-handled by my bros and this guy's son, I tried to look cool. But you can only look so cool in floopy pants and sucked gut and weird ass sneakers for so long. I think after that, I didn't see this guy's son for ...well, 11 years. Well, maybe three times in total when I went to his mom's place....for dinner...and saw his sisters too.

So sitting across this sushi place, dressed in sleek jeans and heels and bodacious earrings and v-neck tee, and NOT dressed in floopy pants, and (trying) to look au naturel with sleek straight hair, I had to laugh when he casually mentioned how he remembered me from the airport.

For one brief moment, I was inclined to ask him... "oh yeah? what did you think of me then... and what do you think of me now?"... but I really didn't want to get into it then.

I think..err, I think he fancies me, so I already knew what the answer would be, and I really didn't feel like listening to it then because...well, I'm not ready to listen to that answer. Because then it would mean that someone has seen my transformation in the last 11 years, and if he accepts me despite all that, and I still don't accept him... well, then wth's wrong with me?! Then it means I am WAY too picky!

Do you get what I'm saying? What do you do when someone's supernice to you, and everything sounds perfect, and yet there is something still holding you back? I think this is what you were talking about, Lyndon... accept the PERMANENT flaws as well, because all the first impressions are temporary. I dont think I'm that kind of a person yet... Im not a mean person, but Im not that unshallow yet. I am still.... argh, confused!

Dating tips part 2

I know I'm not a guru with these dating tips, but then again, I have seen a LOT of scenarios where a beautiful love story could have evolved... but didn't... BECAUSE some dumb girl or guy just didn't think with their head.

The true Romeos and Juliet would say that love is about compromise. True. Love IS about compromise AFTER you get to know someone. If you have something to lose (namely your love and your soulmate), you better be compromisin', baby!

BUT... if you have just met someone, what's to hold you back from dumpin' his/her sorry ass if they continue to piss you off (for dumb reasons)? Why should you take shit from someone you don''t even know? I know there are a lot of stupid girls that take shit from their bfs/hubbies because they love assholes, but if you don't want to fall into the stupid girls trap, do something about it. Have some integrity in yourself! There is something called etiquette... its not about standards, its about common sense.

So, having said that, here's a few more dating common sense/tips for that when you are getting to know someone stage. I have seen this SO MANY times in so many other people, y'know, friend of a friend of a friend (....ok, ok, fine, they're MY experiences!), I cannot begin to tell you how they can make/break an impending relationship.

1. Making DUMB jokes

Guys love jokes. Good for them. This is actually a cause for celebration, because it means sometimes they do think of other things besides Entourage/ UFC/ Fight Club/ Hockey/ BasketBall/ Maxim/ Xbox/ Wii/ Aishwarya/ cars/ Jessica Simpson/ chicken wings/ Grand Theft Auto/ any Future Shop Gadgets. I know I personally love a man who indulges in anything considered macho/sports, because then I know he's not a pervert who's just obsessed with porn.  Once in a while, you come across someone who does all that AND has a sense of humour. I love guys who can laugh... I'm a clown myself, so I can relate. Also, laughing is important cuz then when you have had a fight with them, they'll make some silly funny joke and all is forgotten.

BUT, be warned. Laughing at jokes is not the same as laughing at someone else's expense. Observe:

Isheeta: "oh I need a vacation".
To ante the flirt factor, I said... "so where you taking me for my vacation?"

Instead of flirting back, Dumb guy and his dumb jokes goes: "to the zoo!"

Ok. Fine, he's being funny, so I do a little laugh. So then I try to turn it around and say, "Hmph, I'll take YOU to the zoo!"

Dumb guy and his dumb jokes is now thinking in his head(or not thinking)... "ooh, she loves my dumb jokes. You know, cuz she did a tinkly little laugh! So now I will try to be FUNNIER! Let me see.... what can I say to be funnier?!  Cuz I'm a funny guy, my jokes are the SHIZNIT Yo', just call me George Costanza and call me shawty! I am one funny banana, mofo! Lets see... I KNOW! I know how to make a conversation flow! Here it comes, baby, here it comes!"

Dumb guy and his dumb jokes (aloud): "You'll take ME to the zoo? Why, is it time to meet the family already?!"

Isheeta: "Ouch."

Dumb guy and his dumb jokes: " Hahahahahhahahahahhahahahahaha!! Oh that was funn-nee!!!"

Isheeta: "Oh, look at the time. It's past midnight. I completely forgot that I have to translate this Japanese spam mail. Got to run, bye!"

Dumb guy and his dumb jokes:"Hey, I hope you didn't take any offense with that, I was kiddi-"

CLICK.

***THE END (of something that could have been).

You see, boys and girls.... see how utterly stupid that scenario was? YES, indeedy, he WAS joking, I agree. It was a dumb joke, and he didn't mean it. BUT does it matter? NO. I don't know him well enough to know if he sprouts out similar dumb jokes like that ALL the time. Maybe the rate of his jokes have an output of 5/hour, or 1/week. I don't know, and frankly, because I don't know him well enough.... I DON'T CARE. Because I have not had the time to get to know his head, inside and out.. because I know there are 50 other guys out there who can be funny without being a dipshit... because he's given me no reason to WANT to talk to him.. I will be inclined to be a bitch and overlook his apology and just say instead, "Whatever!"

If he had instead been a funny guy without wanting to try too hard... if I had hung out with him a few times and we had watched the Colbert Report or Family Guy together laughing our asses off and crying into our popcorn... if I have had the opportunity to visualize him making my friends laugh without being insulting... if I could have visualized a house with picket fences or riding a horse-drawn carriage in NY and laughing at the horsepoop smell around it...  and THEN ...after I got to know him he made his dumb jokes about Paris Hilton for all I care... I would have overlooked at him and said, "Please, bless me with your dumb jokes and I will still compromise!"

THAT, ladies and gents, IS compromise. AFTER you like someone when they understand your sense of humour. Make your dumb jokes AFTER it has been established that they like you already, cuz then they have something to lose if they dump you then. I cannot stress this enough... Make your dumb/dry/corny/cheesy jokes when they've got the hots for you.

Otherwise.... well, they'll drop you like a hot potato. :D You'll get violins, but no Romeo or Juliet!