Desi Girl Called Isheeta

Change

Gone are the days when I used to write about every little thing on this blog. Every date I have been to. Every guy that was a dodo bird. Every horny bastard I ran into online. I look at my archives, and I see an angry little girl. Funny, someone with a lot of spunk at one time, who always seemed to be on a rollercoaster ride .. and somehow loved being on it, in hindsight :)

I cringe even clicking on my archives. Is that really me? Dear long time readers and lurkers, is that really me?? aaargh, I can see I pissed off so many people with my spunk. Man. Age does really do a number on you.

I miss all of that. I miss being crazy and wild. Sometimes I feel like a 100 years old and think I'll be just as happy alone with my 100 cats if all this were to disappear.

I deactivated my facebook account.. its been a while now. I dunno if I really miss it. It was really bad at first. Before you know it, weeks went by and I stopped even logging in by mistake. I have to say though that deactivating fb has been like living under a rock. I used to bitch quite a bit about fb, to the point where the only thing I used to log in for was to play games of tetris or quiz. Invading people's lives via status updates, pictures, wall posts... it was getting to me at some point. At some point I realized I was starting to abhor the intrusion, either on me or on my friends. Political messages were driving me nuts. I can imagine the MJ hoopla on fb. All that in your face messages.... it didnt make me a positive person at times. And then of course there was the small issue of trying to explain some questionable people from fb to the man (someone please come up with a better nick for him). I realized I didnt need the headache.. not till things were a bit less scandalous and he was in my clutches for real ;)

I also miss socializing with my precious friends. I realize I always took this for granted. I used to drive straight after work to get together with some of them, and I didn't think twice about it. Now I usually have a million things to do, so its not always realistic for me to even entertain that prospect. I apologize to my single friends, the last thing I want them to feel is that I abandoned them. I feel that I have become every stereotype I wanted to avoid being. Ugh. I hate me. Do I even have friends anymore? Hello, pity party for one!

Today my baby bro emailed me and told me that he was happy that I was 'changing', and finally found someone that I loved. It made me cry. First, because I do NOT want to change, and two, my baby bro being happy for me. My baby bro and I butt heads all the time, but he is my baby (well he is 5 years younger than me, but still). I practically raised him, taught him how to read and write, taught him manners, taught him toooo much of human rights to the point that he reprimands me for my bigotry and political incorrectness, he massages my head and my feet when I ask him to because I was standing on heels all day, he does all the shitty errands I ask him to do, he looks after my cat like his child, he makes amazing pseudo tandoori chicken for me, he feeds me beef and carrots stir fry all the time because that is all he makes when I'm starving, he force feeds me pills and me cough syrup when I am sick, he goes to watch Sex & The City with me when I have no one else to go with even though he never watched a single episode and hated it with a passion ("those damn 50 year old hags, I tell you!"), and he takes incredible photographs. My baby brother was my rock when I used to go on dates. He would tell me my cleavage was too low, he would reprimand me for wearing clothes that were too tight, he would make sure I was wearing a jacket underneath my flimsy clothes because it was cold and he saw the forecast of rain and snow which I didnt, and he would fill up the gas tank in my car because I was too lazy to. He would then wish me good luck before any dates, and roll his eyes when I told him that I didnt care how the date turned out because its not in me to find someone nice. He would then ask me why I was doing what I was doing (dating), and I would joke with him and say its cuz I wanted to have a nice dinner that didn't entail and beef and carrots stir fry. When I'd come home after my dates, and gave him the run-down of what a horrible demented world we live in, he'd ask me if I wanted to watch some anime/manga with him, or go for a walk. Of course I would just laugh and go to bed.

I miss my mother. She is home all the time, but its funny how I STILL miss her. She is everything good in my life, everything. I love, live, die for my mom. I sound all Bollywood now. wth. And its not even that time of the month. Ah well.

I'm not really sure what I'm trying to say here. I usually have something to say. But lately I have been holding back a lot, much like how I have held back from the blog as it matured. I'm not sure if its because I don't want to talk about it, or if its because I have nothing to say. I am more inclined to think its the former because.. well, I'm a girl, its not in our genes to shut up (sorry feminists). I'd also like to think that it's because there are a lot of changes happening in my life at the moment, and its been a surreal experience so far and rather than have a little bitchfest about it and rant (cuz sooooooooome people here can't seem to stand my rants anymore ahem ahem!), I'm sorta looking at it from a different perspective (like from outer space perspective, hahahahaha).

A perspective encompassing acceptance along with these changes (cue fruity music).

It's been a fun ride, people. Thank you for keeping me company for as long as you have. I'm not going away anywhere (well I did just get back from ENGLAND YEAH!!), but I did want to thank you for all your support.

You have been nothing less than phenomenal, and that too just by being there (I see stats, ok and stats don't lie!)

Dead inside

Post here

(it's so freaking long, I figure I'll save some of my readers the headache - the ones that always whine about how long my posts are!)

Deleting the Ghosts of Emails Past

One of the downsides about being such a popular lady (ahem! ahem!) is that you have a very active social life. One of the downsides of having a very active social life is that people notice when you drop off the face of the planet. One of the downsides of dropping off the face of the planet is that the world continues to revolve around the sun even without your presence. One of the downsides of the planet still functioning without your beaming presence as an energy bar is that people still continue to live, to breathe, to laugh, to love, to hate, to log on facebook, to go shopping, to watch movies, to marry, to utter meaningless drivel, to continue drooling at 100 hottest women on Maxim, to remain unemployed, to still max their credit cards out, to still be stuck in traffic, to.... to cut a long story short, one of the downsides to the planet functioning as normal is that people STILL continue to send Isheeta emails.

Don't get me wrong, Isheeta likes loves receiving emails, like the rest of the planet. In fact, receiving emails beats replying to emails hands down, like the rest of the planet. However, when emails are received from people who she would prefer not to be receiving emails from - namely the government auditors, credit card bills, junk mails (one-time offer to get your high-school diploma/Phd In Particle Physics online for 3 easy installments of $59.99), alumni solicitations (now that you have finally paid off your 30K student loan, why dont you get a Mastercard with your alumni name on it just so you can remind yourself and every retailer out there every single day who funded your over-sensitive ego/state of poverty), Pizza Pizza and their 3 for 1 deals, free samples of 30 ml samples of wondercreams promising to "Rejuvenate your eyes and delete those wrinkle lines in 3 days!", free samples of enlarging your already large yet invisible and non-existent man-apparatus... to cut a long story short, emails or reminders of such from previous "dates/prospects/losers", now that you're in your own private heaven, is not welcome.

My eyes glossed over some of these emails as I decided to clean out my Hotmail. They are dated eons ago - when I was a mere shadow in the dating underground. I cringed at my email-to-email responses.... emails asking me out for coffee, laced with preliminary formal greetings, eventually developing into semi-flirtatious requests for dinner and movies. Some were quite robust initially, but somehow withered away post-meetups, and post-realization that email spark ≠ real-life spark. Some involved fervent exchanges of pictures, and my responses content and tone dwindling to null as I realized I didn't like the look of someone's face/nose/teeth/hair/baldness/pot-bellyness/toothlessness/nosehair wtf with some people!..... even though I was never a super-model to begin with! :-s

A few emails reeked of desperation - some were downright weird asking me to visit them (as if I was the unofficial Candian dignitary out to set peace to the world.. ha!) - some were by "friends" who didn't have time or couldn't be bothered to get together with you as dictated by their one-line responses a month later, some involved crushes that never really went anywhere but who teased you mercilessly and you wondered why they couldn't open their eyes and see YOU, some were by liars who you thought you had chemistry with but ditched you or didn't really take you seriously when push came to shove, some never followed up when they said they would, some I'd never met, some I'd never meet again once I did, some were so incredibly rude that they made me think WTH was I thinking when I met them, some that made me realize I would never even meet if I was paid a bazillion dollars because they were so utterly stupid... so much useless drivel!

Deleting these emails made me sad. Its not that there's a lot of people, but they do seem repetitive because these are people I had blogged about when I started this blog. Some were hurtful and lacked heart. I don't know why I had to actually open them and read their contents before deleting - maybe a mechanism to attain final closure?? But isn't closure for people who's had relationships with each other, while all I had were just random emails and "sayonara, loser!"? I don't know. There were some back-to-back correspondences between people who I didn't even get - some people seem to enjoy emailing for the sake of the medium, and not really because they enjoy spending time with you, or even like you. As in a total waste of my time. I can't for the life of me even remember some of these "friends".

The whole process also made me sad because it made me realize how hard I had tried with people, even if unconsciously, to forge meaningful relationships with. Or in some cases, how hard these people tried to do the same with me. Does that also mean I'm also as pathetic as them? Maybe social butterfly so Is pathetic even a right word, just because things didn't work out? Shouldn't it be "memories/experiences/learning curves?" Did they get sad, eventually to move on, when the fruits of their labour accounted to nil? Did they have to sit through 50 pages of email and sit back through time and wonder how far they've come or how things have progressed? When we talk about "our past" to our significant other, and how our past has shaped our "present" and "our future", isn't this evidence - these emails done for the desire to forge relationships and to conduct oneself with grace while doing so - a key defining moment in our lives? Shouldn't it be something that you can look at with pleasant memories and reminisce about with a warm smile as you sip your coffee, instead of being one of those defining moments where you can't wait to hit the "Delete" button so you can move on with your life ahead?

This made me sad. Is the downside I have claimed initially "about being such a popular lady (ahem! ahem!) is that you have a very active social life" even true in the first place? Was I popular because I was loved/liked, or was I popular because that's all I could be and that's all I had going for me? I had 50 pages of email to sort through - did that account for anything useful in my life?

I mean, it bought back memories of....*sniff* I went through SO MUCH CRAP its ridiculous! Heartbreak galore! Little heartbreaks that didn't mean much to jerks, little rejections that gave me big complexes, quiet little tears and sobs in wet pillows that left you with bloodshot eyes the next morning. I cried me a river. I went through a field of downsides. No, I went through a MOUNTAIN of downsides! My emotions were like a freakin mountain - up and down and up and down like the valleys they are sparsed with, volleying back and forth like a ping-pong ball, trying so hard.

Damn. I have no words. I am so tired. I just know that I PAID MY DUES, ok?!

It's in the laws of nature, physics, religion, life - however you put it. If you have downsides, there will be upsides. 50 pages of downside emails are worth going though if you know it will lead to upsides. 50 pages of downsides cannot beat one single upside who gives me a reason to smile, like the upside that is this:

:)

Warning: VERY Bollywood post

When my sister-in-law was leaving her maiden home and coming in to our household (rukhsati/baraat) for the first time on the wedding ceremony/shaadi night, like most desi brides, she had tears in her eyes as she hugged her family and friends "goodbye". A desi girl leaving her family to start her new life as a new bride in another desi family is considered an epic moment in the girl's life. It's a big deal back home since technically girls do not move out of their homes to their own apartment even after adulthood. I'm sure that does not apply to metros like Mumbai or Delhi, but the household that my sis-in-law is from, this is huge. In MY family, a girl doesn't move out of their homes unless 1) you're married and 2) you're dead. Whichever comes first. Hence, my current situation, and frankly at the rate my health is going, its pretty safe to say option 1 is the default choice (dammit).

So after doing her goodbye rounds, she got inside the car that was decorated and strewn with marigolds and roses and any other concoction of flowers that did not match. I remember I was sitting right next to her on her left, while my brother (her hubby) was sitting at her right. When the moochiwala driver revved up the car, that was the first time I had seen panic in a bride's eyes smack-dabbed with make-up. She had a little niece who was held up by her father, and the little girl started waving good-byes and kisses to her. Her favourite 5-year-old nephew was running with his little legs with the moving car and telling her not to go. Don't go.

I felt like I was an extra in a Bollywood film. I was supposed to look sombre to reflect that moment, but I was more surprised than anything. It was my first wedding I had attended as an adult, ever (clearly I didn't have a lot of people who loved me back then). 

I remember thinking at that moment, GOD this will NEVER happen to me. I will NOT cry while leaving my parents. Sure my parents would be bawling their eyes out, but man-oh-man, I will be so glad saying "in your face, suckas!" to these people who have been dying to get me married off. When I thought of this moment last year as I saw their wedding video, I added some specifics to this moment. I promised myself if they bawl their eyes out during my baraat, it would be justified because these people who I love so much have driven me INSANE with their requests to get me married off over the last few years. It's only high time they go through something like this and feel what it was like for me!

Now that I'm slowly grasping this concept of leaving home eventually/one day - leaving my family to stay with someone else's - it finally hit me:

• my make-up will be in shambles on that day, dammit
• I will be a Bollywood lead instead of a Bollywood extra because I will be crying the loudest.

I miss my parents a lot, more so as I grow older. Even when they're home. It is something to see your parents age in front of your eyes. Parent-child role-reversal: Not recommended.

My parents always ask me to visit them while in Dubai. I say no. When my mom got sick and was bed-ridden post-surgery, my dad begged me to go visit her. I didn't go on the pretense that I was looking for a job, even when I wasn't actively seeking it. And when I did think I needed a vacation, I visited my best friend in the States instead. I had friends come over and I entertained them. My dad cried like a baby for me to go visit her.. and I went a year later.

I cannot imagine being a parent, and living through that empty moment knowing your children won't visit you EVEN when they have money AND time. I put my parents through that.

I have been living that moment in a continuous loop for the last little while. It hurts like a bitch. (Also, not recommended).

When my time comes, to leave my home, to leave my precious parents (for someone else's), to leave my parents who ... YES, do mean more to me than my own life (but whose value I couldn't even fathom even when they were sick), I don't know what I would do besides reliving that moment in continuous loop about how I have disappointed them when they really needed me the most.

I am not thinking ahead, ok! So please don't laugh at me and say I'm thinking too fast when I am not even close to this, and who knows what life brings. I know I don't know what life will bring in the future but I definitely know what life had bought me in the past, and to know that you had wasted or thrown away whatever good tidings life had bought you is reason for someone to wilt away with regret. So I'm trying not to do that, but clearly its a big fat FAIL at the moment (hence, the Bollywoodish post).

Also, my cramps are killing me (thought I'd just throw that in with the melodrama).

Waiting

"He'll only break your heart, it's a fact. And even though I warn you, even though I guarantee you that the boy will only hurt you terribly, you'll still pursue him...ain't love grand?"

That's one of my favourite quotes from Great Expectations (the adapted modernized movie)... me and my double entendres, you should know where I'm going with this... aha! But that's where you're wrong.

I'm not going to talk about love tonight, nor am I going to talk about the fallacies of having great expectations when one is in love, because let's face it... expecting ANYTHING remotely associated with love these days from anything that is not a four-legged puppy is just plain wrong. And deceptive. Also, I know *nothing* about love, so who am I to write a discourse on it anyways.

So instead, I am going to talk about the next best thing that I feel I have adequate knowledge of - waiting.

I know a lot about waiting because well... you're going to have to take a big breather here because it will come as a shock to you.... I know a lot about waiting because unlike my blog persona, I'm a very patient person in real life.

Sometimes when I go out with my friends, or going out with my parents or family, and they happen to be late, I won't really care. I'll wait for them to get ready, wax, pick out their clothes, put on their nailpolish, dry their hair, feed their puppies, peel a mango, entertain their kids, go into labour - whatever. I may not necessarily like it, mind you.. but I will wait. I will wait because...1. I'll probably blow up at them if I had to confront them which will not be pretty and 2. I hate confrontations

SO. What is my point? Waiting should be incorporated into our natural daily existence, so it doesnt peeve us off. If people in South Asian/Mediterranean cultures and countries can incorporate it into their daily lives, especially when they are going to work, or going to a family dinner, you too can do it. It's not so bad once you get the hang of it.

What they don't do, these aforementioned cultures mentioned, is wait lifetime for a soulmate.

Aha! This is a concept that is fairly new to them. As soon as they notice remnants of facial hair or boobage in a person coming of age, said person is in trouble. That is when the waiting game is thrown in the dumpster in favour of an accelaration lever.

On the other hand, in European/North American world, we are encouraged to wait. Wait perfectly in line in that queue for the cashier to pay for the groceries... wait for your turn, patiently.

Relevance?

We spend our lifetime waiting. Think waiting in lines at the bank, waiting for that raise. Waiting to be 2 sizes smaller and 10 lbs lighter. Waiting for our kids and parents to understand us. Waiting for that savings account to grow. Waiting to be old enough, to be responsible, to be accepted by society. Waiting for that call. We're always waiting. We are such patient creatures. Waiting for someone to notice us, waiting for someone to make the first move, waiting to say something cute, waiting for that jerk you're dating to come to their senses, waiting to be liked, waiting to be recognized, waiting waiting waiting... continuously. Constantly waiting for that one person.

And they have no idea that you've been waiting for them. And sometimes they don't even care even if they know.

We busy ourselves with projects, activities, hobbies - we may deny it and say that we're not waiting, that if the other person comes along it's because they were meant to come along and we weren't really waiting.. but the fact remains, my pretties, is that AFTER that person has come along, do you just look past that person? No, you don't. You give that person a chance. You wouldn't have given that person a chance - that net value of waiting - if you weren't waiting for him/her. If you truly were not waiting, you would overlook immediately.

Sorry, this is one of those boring thinking posts.

My question: Why the frig do we wait? Why is there a selective filter for waiting? More importantly, why is it that we are totally messed up in our priorities when it comes to waiting for different things? Some of us wait because we think we know what we want... that thing... so we wait for that thing to come along. In waiting for that thing to come along, we have built up expectations. Expectations that cause us to justify more of said waiting. Expectations that are not necessarily realistic. Maybe even more stupid expectations. Eventually, we replace the word "waiting" to "not wanting to settle". So we wait. We wait for the other person to make the move. Sometimes we wait for a sign from the heavens. Sometimes we wait for destiny. Sometimes we wait because we are filled with hope for the possibilities that lie ahead of us. Sometimes we wait because we have no choice.

Waiting is such a load of shit. What bollocks.

Misery loves company, especially if its a company or a truckload of people playing the waiting game. If there's one thing I've learnt being an emo girl, is that an emotional nutjob like me IS the end result of endless waiting games. I don't know how I picked up this trait - my parents are anything but patient. My dad never waited for fortune or luck to land on his lap - he worked his ass off for it. My mom didn't even wait with us kids - she had 4 of us back-to-back.

And here I am/was, me... Ms Wannabe champion of the world, waiting... waiting.. waiting.. for her time in the sun.. knowing full well, the sun has been there since millenia, and has been doing it's part.

Waiting to make an impact, to be part of someone's world... when I wasn't even in their dreams to begin with.

Waiting for my own great expectations that would lead me to that moment of clarity of love being all grand like a quote from a novel...

Wow. What a waste of time. Waiting. What a waste of a word. So many W's in one sentence...meaning the one same shitty thing.

There are some things in life worth waiting for - the birth of a child, waiting to see the sun rise at the top of a mountain, waiting to see your kids grow up, waiting for the goddamned emergency doctors to see you after making you wait for 12 hours, waiting for that call centre dude from India to remove you from the "hold" (hahahhaha). But there are other things in life that are just not worth waiting for - waiting for that call, waiting for someone to come to their senses, waiting for someone to miss you.

I said I wasn't going to talk about love, and I'm not talking about love here. If someone is making you wait, for all the wrong things and for all the wrong reasons, if they're going to make you wait, giving you hopes - your great expectations, if you will - only to take it away later, it's not love.

So get out, get out, get out of that waiting game. It's painful, it's uncalled for, it's useless and it's a waste of time, space, money, emotions, life. Stop waiting. Go create your own game, and you will create your own great expectations.

I used to ruuuuuule the woooooorld.....

The only excuses one can have these days for not knowing this hugely popular song is:

1) You're a woman in labour, and your screams will be, justifiably, louder, than any screaming fan who will mouth these lyrics at every waking moment
2) You've been living under a rock in some war-torn country and ... prayers to God are more important at this time than some song about you ruling a *broken* world

It's a pretty hip song. I like it because I think if I were to be in labour these days, I'd want this song to play in the background. I realize that may sound retarded, but I think listening to this song would mitigate the pain... like, "I used to ruuuuuuuuule the woooooooorld, And now I'm giving birth to babiiiiiiiiiiesss...... with curllllsss" (I have curls). Hahahahaha! It would make me laugh, when I'd feel like my insides are being ripped apart, and when you are laughing, it will.... like.... help... like push the baby out?!?!?!

Um, yeah, never had babies, ok, so stop with the hating!

Over the last few years, I've gone from being a social butterfly to serious nesting. This is an inevitable phase for a girl, given, and I guess I'm no different. I get more excited with kitchen utensils and bathroom fixtures than new shiny clothes (shoes are still immune from this). Sometimes when I go over to my friends' places, and spot an awesome lamp or a killer dining set, I'll go home and google the piece and bookmark it.... for when I'll be...err, needing it.. for the future. It's sad, but thats how it is. Actually, its not sad, I just like plates and lamps, ok!

Now, of course, with the advent of a full-blown baby spurt among these same friends (summer is baby birth season, since winter is baby making season), its safe to assume my interests are veering to baby stuff. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaghhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GASP! What is happening to me?!!! It's like I'm going forward in time, regardless of whether I have these fixtures or not. Maybe its my biological clock subconsciously calling out, who knows. Or maybe its cuz everyone and their Hollywood spouse (see, Jolie, Angelina; Pitt, Brad) are having one of those, and it's just the cool thing to have them and I'm just going with the tide.

I got a call a week ago from one of my good friends I went to uni with. She has an infant now, and she confronted me why I've lost touch with her. I BSed her about my busy life, which she didn't buy, so I finally told her what was in my head. That she never seemed to make time for me, that I was not invited to post-baby cooing session, that now that she was married with a kid, she just never seemed to make time for her single friends, and I didn't want to push it.

Big mistake. Never argue with mothers - you can't win. It's funny how everytime I assume that I'm the woman that's been screwed with, I realize that there are other women who have been screwed a little more. She in turn told me how I've never taken the initiative to keep in touch - partly true. And how once you have a baby, all her friends suddenly are moms... which means she has been craving company with single people, for some non-baby adult conversation.... and being stuck with a baby 24/7 means.. well, a lot of restrictions. And how she wishes she could just go away anywhere without a thought in the world like I do. And how little things like uninterrupted sleep are so precious. And how while you are sort of complete now with a hubby and child, its not the be all or the end all.

This was a blow. That sort of sucks. I've been feeling like I've been on a constant roller coaster for the longest time. I've been feeling like my life has been a broken record with the same crappy music on a permanent loop. I know that once I am past the stage, I will have different sort of issues to deal with, which would be refreshing for a change. My parents can finally shut up and I can finally stop feeling guilty. And now, listening to a happily married woman listen to my stories while still expressing disappointment at her lacklustre, routine life, I couldn't help but feel even more disappointed than ever. Man. Don't issues ever stop surfacing? Even when we have everything (well, almost), can't we just ... accept, and be content, for a little while? It seems very teenagerish for me to contemplate such issues, because lets face it, its human nature to never be completely happy with all that we have. But to a singleton, its like, I have enough issues to deal with, ie my biological clock, my desire to settle down, I really don't need to know that THIS ... this blah existence of marriagedom is what I'm gunning for!

So I made plans with her.... I decided my whale-watching plans would have to wait another weekend. I set aside my day for her. Any time, I say. Lunch? sure! Lunch it is.

She calls me up, late, at noon, because that's when she woke up (baby schedule). I am excited to hear from her. She then cancels our lunch plan. You know, I know mothers have the hardest job in the world. But just because I'm not working does not mean my time is less precious than yours!

So. Whatever. Same broken record, same crappy music, different schedule.

Over the weekend, I got to spend some time with some lovely people who are a little more Canadianized than I am. They were immersed in an activity which can be described as a rite of passage for anyone attending a desi wedding in North America (ie performing Bollywood/Bhangra numbers for relatives weddings!). This was news to me. I watched them with awe, and at the same time I couldn't help but feel a tinge of regret... for myself. For what I have missed out. I've grown up in a few countries, so I can call myself international, but it came at a price, in that I never really went through *any* rites of passage. I didn't go to high school here, the education system was a shocker to me, my mindset is Westernized, but its rooted in more desi values than I'm willing to admit. 

I hate sounding like a cliche, but even though I had a priviledged childhood.... where I had it all, I really didn't. I guess this is universal. Grass. Greener. Other side.

I guess at that moment, I felt like I ruled the world, but it seems I came down dropped to terrafirma pretty fast. With a nasty bump. I think I lucked out in the growing up department.

When you've been at a place long enough, you learn to establish roots. It keeps you grounded, and makes you believe that if you don't make it here, you're bust. So you're motivated to give it your all. Sort of like how my dad did it. We moved every 6-7 years. It hasn't stopped. My brothers have all but moved back, one of them move every few years. And my parents won't stop at persuading me to do the same. My loyalty towards them makes me lean to their advice, or when I'm completely fed up of the system here. Unlike most people, I have a choice, and I guess when push comes to shove, when things get really tough, I teeter towards the easy way out. Cuz the easy way out, well, guarantees that you stop hurting. The easy way out means you can finally take care of YOUR needs. No more ignored intern requests! No more working like a slave for..... peanuts. The easy way out means you don't have to set aside your day for your mommy friend, only to be ditched last minute. The easy way out means being set up by your parents so you won't come across people who won't stop asking what is wrong with you and why you are still single. The easy way out means it's ok to be a domestic goddess cuz that is what is expected from someone who is used to taking the easy way out. The easy out would mean finally having babies like your mommywithbabies friends, and that to be the most normal thing in the world.

I do want to have babies. I think I want to have babies because I want to give them that childhood that I never had, the growing up part. I want them to go through those rites of passage with a steady stream of friends. I want them to not be adult-like at 11, so they can go through rebellious stage at 16 when they're supposed to, and not at 26. I want them to make friends that they grow up with, because those are the ones that mould your childhood experiences and shape your future. I know I can't always take care of them, but I'm pretty sure they will drive me nuts with a steady stream of problems, and I think they will be a refreshing change to the broken records kind with the same crappy music. I want them to.....uhm..... I want to give them everything, it sounds silly, because I don't have ANY such thing, but I want them to to....errrrr....

I want them to feel like they can rule the world - for just a little longer than I have been able to.

Honesty vs. Reality

I remember when the guy who seemed perfect husband material .. on paper... dumped me.

Before we met, we wrote many emails to each other. He called when he said he would. He made me laugh. He was cute. And funny. God, give me an ugly one-legged pirate any day over a rich sourpuss. As long as he knows how to laugh about life, I'm good.

Then we met. And it got better.

Why husband material? He loved kids. And with girls, you just know once you kiss a guy if he'll... err, do it for you for the long haul. I realize now that with guys its a little different. You need maybe a little more. Like fucking around.

So he wanted to fuck around, and I guess I really liked him, so... I said no.

And then it was like pulling teeth to even see him again. All the tell-tale signs were there. Making all the right excuses to avoid seeing me. Cutting me off mid-way during phone convos. Little hints that he was busy with work and friends' parties. His decline of my event invitations. I knew all of the signs. I just didn't want to accept it though. Well, not so much, some excuses were new to me... like being sick. WHO the hell stays sick for a month? I still accepted. Maybe he had a weak immune system, even for a guy that skydived and motorcycled...I wanted to believe. Like a typical girl in la-la land, I was ignoring the fact that I was the one initiating calls, texts, emails, the works.

Then one day, while I was in class, he called me. I was so crazy about him, I left the class to pick up his call. And when I told him that I was in between class, he laughed, called me silly and said to go back to class and call him when I was done.

I called him as soon as I was done class. I just didn't want to miss my golden opportunity. I mean, he *wanted* to talk to me! I was finally getting through to him! See, guys *can* be changed! After a few months of trying to get through to him, I was finally getting there!

And of course this is when he dumped me. It was pretty pathetic when you think about it. The only time he ever made an effort with me, was when he wanted to stop seeing me. I guess that was Guys 101 to me - guys aren't stupid when they don't call - they're just selective.

He made up some cock-and-bull story. I don't remember what it was, it must've been stupid cuz I can't even remember. I remember he was struggling with his words, and me trying to be the next Mahatma Gandhi, I thought I would take a stab at it.

I remember locking my door, sitting on my bed, and thinking to myself, wow, I can't believe I'm getting dumped. as. we. speak. There was a first time for everything, and it was happening before my very eyes. I was thinking how I had told him previously that I was a firm believer in honesty - how if you're someone in a relationship, and you don't feel for someone, that maybe there is no point in dragging it out, that maybe you should just say it. Its just better to say it instead of letting someone assume everything is roses, because it hurts shitloads after you have assumed so much, as opposed to when you have had no time to assume. I remember thinking "damn, honesty hurts shitloads and I'm not sure if I'll try this honesty business again because... isn't honesty NOT supposed to hurt? Isn't honesty supposed to fix everything, because you just get it out?! Honesty is supposed to fix everything, everything damn it, including the common cold, cancer, acne, stupid drive-through cashiers who always mess up the change!

I remember he was struggling with his words. He was saying things like, I really like you and you're an amazing person and a whole lotta clichés that you hear in Degrassi TV. I remember I was just swallowing air and trying to hold back the lump in my throat (such a drama queen, yes!) and thinking far far ahead as to how I was going to disappoint my mother yet again. Dammit, I can write pages and pages of politics that will keep one amused for decades but why is it that I couldn't keep someone interested in me long enough to want me for a few decades?! I remember trying to focus on his words, but they were so empty and so ridiculously clichéd that it was really easy to just go to la-la land.

I finally decided to be Mahatma Gandhi and told him that I'll make it easy for him. I told him that if he didn't feel for me in that way, its ok. I think he felt stupid when I took the Braveheart route. I told him that hey, I respected him more for telling me the truth. I told him that hey, maybe we can be friends. I even told him that I could be his wing buddy! I told him that I had some friends I could hook him up with. I told him so much crap that his head must've been swimming in a pool of diarrhea. I couldn't help it. I was afraid that if I stopped talking, I would break down and the lump in my throat would stop being a lump and somehow cause me to convulse and spew out salty tears. I knew that if I hung up the phone, I would cry like a moron and I didn't want to cry like a moron. I wanted to just pretend that being dumped by the guy who you had seen yourself introducing your parents to minutes earlier was one of the most normal, casual things in the world - like going to the gym, and I would just go back to sleep after I was done with the phone.

I didn't go back to sleep after I hung up. I cried like a baby in my pillow. I questioned my looks, my brains, my personality, my career, my lips, my hairbrush, my shoes, my camera, my stuffed animals, my clothes, my damned cat. I cried very quietly, in my pillow, in the dark. My mum, being psychic to her daughter's emotional needs, suddenly came into my room, and just started asking me a lot of questions. In between my sobs I told her. She hugged me and holding me in her arms just offered the only solution my mom has to this day to life's problems - Come to Dubai. Which I think made me cry even more, hahahahaha.

I don't know why I suddenly had to recount this story. I have since gotten over that moron. He wasn't a nice guy, in fact, he was a jackass. He was one of those memorable jackasses, those that teach you a thing or two about how you should stop being so damn gullible and start being more cagey with your heart.

I guess that story reminded me about honesty. How I had taken the initiative to being more honest with myself, my life, and expected the same from others. How I was tried of running away from people, and never really saying what I meant to such people. How I had decided that if I were to be more honest with others, I would get the same in return. I have since learned that you can be honest, but not tooooo honest at the same time. Because sometimes the truth does hurt, and not everyone can handle it, nor are they willing to welcome it nor accept it nor acknowledge it. There is a fine line with being polite to people and saying things for the sake of saying it - 'filtered honesty' to people that you don't necessarily know but you have to govern yourself in such a way around them so as to project that air of transparency, and ensuring they see that side of you in your character that spells your inevitable trustworthyness.

At the same time, while doing so, you fail to give a part of yourself that may have opened doors you weren't aware of. By restricting ourselves to this 'honesty filter', we may be holding back on our own chances of getting what we want if we were to be completely open to someone. I mean, to even tell someone these days that you like someone is one form of this. You might as well kill yourself if someone you like knows you like them, because the likee will freak out knowing he/she(liker) is the object of your affection. I know this is a really utopian thought, and I can see a lot of people rolling their eyes, so I'm going to shut up now, and really, lets face it... I don't know ANYONE who has been completely honest and has gotten everything they needed. In fact, by being less honest, it is probably more realistic to assume that one gets everything they want instead. 

People seem so perfect on paper. We read what's in front of us, and it is in our gut instinct to believe everything initially... to take that person for face value...for a split second. And then if we've been fucked around a little too often, we question it. Cynicism did not just spawn out of happy, utopian experiences. Cynicism is usually borne from a myriad of dog-eat-dog experiences in a crazy world. Its a survival tool, if you don't want everybody to walk all over you. And cynicism is going to come in handy when you don't want to be faced with a barrage of smoke and mirrors. Sometimes its necessary. Cynicism helps you look past things like apparent 'honesty' to look past a possible façade. Sometimes that may include ... making up little white lies.  To get your foot in the door.  And that's when you have a scenario when everything looks good on paper.

Just like how Prince Charmings look good on paper, until you expose the fraud. Just like how.. résumés look great on paper....

Until one day, the recruiters actually call you for a damn interview, because it seems my résumé finally looks good on paper.. and you realize you're the shit that's gonna hit the fan VERY SOON!

Love, Sex And The City

Having been a die-hard fan of this TV phenomena, I couldn't wait to drag my beautiful shoes, dress and ass to the premiere of this much-awaited movie.

Women across the world were waiting for this movie with pins and needles and dreams of Carrie's giant floral dresses.... (which was the hottest dress to me in the movie...)

This was the TV show that gave credibility, legitimacy, validation and empowerment to women when it came to enduring the trials and tribulations of dating rituals in North America and the free world.

A friend once ranted about this show. As a guy, he couldn't see what the big deal with SATC was. *rolls eyes*

To which I mildly responded about how Sex And The City *is* to women what cars/ women/ video games/ steak/ sports/ cricket/ soccer/ Baywatch /Star Wars/ Star Trek/ UFC/ cosmo mags/ Wii/ XBox/ girls in sexy clothes/ girls in shalwars/ girls period/ every tech toy out there ... *is* to men.

SATC is ridiculously funny. Samantha is tactless but hilarious in a deadly honest way. Carrie is realistic and romantic and in love, but she's so human and frail because she is flawed in so many ways like all the women out there. Charlotte can be highly unrealistic with her optimism and cheerfulness, but thats why she is so adorable. Miranda is every strong woman out there, and who doesn't want to be strong and feminine at the same time?

It is about *every* single woman out there ... in North America, Europe, even in desi world (where youre not milking cows as a day job).

It is about every woman out there who aren't getting what they want from their husbands/boyfriends/significant others.. even if they say they are.

My married friends love it. My single gfs love it. Guys love it... true, they will never admit to it.... but find me one guy who hasn't laughed out loud or rolled their eyes at these women's antics, and I will find you a ...50 year old virgin. Even autijis love it. It's the women's "Entourage". I declare that the women at SATC should be presidents and will do a better job running the country than dirty politicians and their dirty laundry!!!

I thought all of this until I saw the movie....

Yep. I *hate* to say this, but I have to admit, SATC: The Movie was disappointing. I guess I had high hopes and expectations for this movie... like how a single mother who worked night shifts so her son could become that world famous neurosurgeon would be disappointed to know that he flunked his MCAT's and had been moonlighting as a truck driver.

The clothes were fabulous. The shoes were bolder and sexier.The colours as rich as the Sultan of Brunei. Big looked like he hadn't aged a day and can still melt you to butter with his...manliness. The women looked more fashion conscious than I could remember, but whatever, still looked beautiful.

But there was something missing. Something that the half hour shows didn't disappoint you with.

The movie was a stark indicator that if you don't find someone at a certain age, it's not the end of the world. That 40 is the new 30! That life still goes on, despite being a bride stood up at the altar. That friendships still last, even if you have pooped your pants in front of them. That designers will continue to make more beautiful sexier shoes. That you will still have that gay friend to go shopping with. That you WILL get over the misery of having your heart broken, MANY TIMES, by the one you love. That Valentine's and New Year's can be a lonely time and will NOT be the same without having that special someone by your side. That having friends are important in such times. That the person you may end up spending the rest of your life with will not necessarily be the one you had fallen in love with at first sight, but that guy who you stuck with and grew to love... despite his infidelities, despite his breaking your heart umpteenth times.

BUT.

At the same time, it sucked a bit. How can a woman love someone SO MUCH, and the guy be so clueless about it? How can a guy take someone for granted, after having been with that woman for SO LONG and telling her that he only wanted her? How can he break someone's heart, because of what he heard from an angry woman at the spur of the moment? I mean, didn't he have his own BRAIN to think things through?! Did it melt into mush like all the women's hearts he melted previously? How can she turn around what she had wanted so long so easily, just to.... I dont even know what she's even turn around so easily, so frankly I can't even explain that. How can she just go back to him.. JUST LIKE THAT after seeing him once?!

MAN!

I thought it lacked depth. Love isn't something one can switch on and off. But apparently, in the SATC Movie, it can be done. Yes, there was a lot of moping involved from both sides, for a while, but.... I can't explain it. Maybe one has to be in love with someone for 10 years to make it look THAT easy.

I wouldn't know. My idea of love has nothing to do with love at first sight. It's to do with missing someone when they're away. It's do with wanting the best for the other person. It's to do with comfort. It's to do with laughing with that person. It's to do with thinking of him randomly on a busy day when your world is collapsing and he is that one bright spot in that busy day. It's to do with giving it all, and expecting nothing... well, almost nothing, lets be real, you want SOME of that back, otherwise its just one of those things called lust. It's to do with growing old with the idea of growing old with the one you love.

I found the movie could have touched on that, because while Carrie's love for Big spanned the Beginning of Time, Big's love for Carrie... was only realized and really took birth after he broke her heart. And then I realized why the movie disappointed... it showed that facet of *reality* that no one really expected from the characters. Women of the world expected a lot more give and take, Carrie to finally say a big fat no to being treated like crap, or Big and Carrie to have finally come together with fireworks... when nothing of the sorts happened.

It showed that in this day and age of MeMeMe, that people DO compromise, post-infidelity or not... love is more than just a pair of Manolo Blahniks, forgiveness is not so far-fetched, it IS possible for guys to mess up and later grow into love with that person and after ALL of that......it is possible that hopes and dreams do come together not under fireworks but under quiet moments spent in shoe closets with the right person.

I think I missed the fireworks. You can't just give us ammo for fireworks (all the hype!) and then expect us to be happy with quiet candle moments. Yes, that is life, nothing is certain nor consistent like guys, but well, that's the least one can ask from a cult show!

Conversations with God

Dear God,

If you give me a job CAREER by the end of this week, I will give Qurbani. 6 months ahead of schedule, but I promise. I cant take this anymore. I have no money, but I'll dip in my negative Line of Credit just to keep my word. I'll even sell my damned shoes in Ebay.

Or I'll Qurbani myself. This little butter knife is sharper than it looks. Yesterday I cut my F-off finger with it. So You KNOW I can cut off arteries with it.

You've been warned. I'm sure you've got real issues to deal with, and so do the police here in suburbiaville, so I'm sure you'll think really good and hard about this.

Sincerely,

Your faithful BiPolar Slave

How To Lose a Girl in 10 Minutes

When you're just getting to know someone, say a girl, it's always good to assume that she is an emotional person. Now I know what the guys are thinking - most women these days are pretty headstrong, and thus cold-hearted, but if you're looking for something a little more relationship material, or a little less permanent like just trying to get in her pants, it is always safe to assume that she will be an emotional person, simply because.. well, a woman is not a man and thus that is the status quo to assume.

Say, for example, a scenario when the woman you are interested in just got the bad news a relative of hers died. Ouch, tricky tricky! What is a guy to do?

I know! This might be a stab in the dark, but I'm going to give it my best shot here.... how about some sensitivity?!

I mean, ok, so you didn't kill her relative... so its not your fault.. so why should you care... but hey, you're a member of the human race, so try practising some empathy, that should help!

In other words, this is a great opportunity to score some brownie points! A shoulder to cry on, if you will. A side showing your softer, gentler, understanding side.

A few days ago, some guy who hasn't talked to me in ages (and so barely knows me) suddenly calls me out of the blue. He is pretty pleasant, so I play it cool.

The next day, he calls me again. I am, at this time, devastated by the news and when he asks me what's new, I tell him the bad news, and that well, I'm a bit preoccupied since I'm not really sure what to do when someone I know has died.

He says oh. Then he goes on talking. About the Autoshow. Laughing. Jokes. Thats nice. I'm all goosebumps (sarcasm). I really don't feel like talking to this twit by now so I tell him I gotta go and about to hang up when...he asks me what I'm doing for the weekend. I tell him, most probably attending the funeral and grieving with the family cuz that is what people do when someone dies.

He goes.. after a few minutes.. so do you want to go out for coffee over the weekend?

Yeppers! See what I mean? He could have scored a million brownie points... but not only did he throw away the brownies, but he also made sure there will be no batter, now or ever!

Another facet to observe when you're faced with bad news that would mean someone is going to be grieving for a while, is the delicate issue of sensitivity in timing.

Observe.

I got invited to a Raptors game. Now, if you are a man.. lets call him... Dying To Get In Your Pants (DTGIYP), who's been trying for the longest time, you would think this was the ideal opportunity to offer comfort and solace... secondary goals are key (comfort and solace) to ensure your eventual acquisition of the primary goal (getting into pants).

So DTGIYP offers a shoulder to cry on.

On Saturday, while still going through rituals of mourning, something really bad happens to my mum. She is, to put it mildly, bleeding from places where she shouldn't be. My mum is frazzled for her bleeding self as well as her relatives, my dad is frazzled that my mum is frazzled and injured to boot, and I'm frazzling exponentially by now because my dad being diabetic and hypertensive is not good news for frazzling purposes, period.

So I take my mum to Emergency, which should really be renamed to the Extended Torturous Resort, because after having gone to Emergency for my nephew, my brother, my sis-in-law and now my mum, I'm well aware that in Canada, that is exactly what it is. Unless you show up with your head cut off, the staff of 2 doctors and 10 nurses in Emergency do not have the power to give you the precious treatment you so need during the 10 hours you spend waiting for them to see you.

Since DTGIYP is somewhat in health care, I sms him for advice. DTGIYP is not much help, but he is sincere, which is nice. Half an hour later, when my mum is still waiting for the doc to see her, and I am still freaking out... DTGIYP sms'es me...

"so, just to confirm.. you're not able to make it to the Raptors game on sunday, yeah? Ive got someone else in mind, so don't worry about me.. hope things get better"

Wow. Tackiness breeds contempt, anyone?!

At 2 am Sunday morning, DTGIYP sms me to confirm again.. that Ive cancelled for Sunday... and if I can get away. Nothing about my mum. Is she alive or dead? nope, nothing. Definitely someone you would want to bring home to your parents, n'est-ce pas?! I told him I wasn't in the mood... because frankly, I'm never EVER going to be in the mood at this rate for this lew-ser.

You know, if there's anything I've learned, is that it's always good to know who your fair-weathered friends are in dire situations.

As for the doctors.. well, maybe Grey's Anatomy has spoiled me. Life, or doctors, are nothing like Grey's. Welcome to reality baby. But I guess when you see people dying every day, you sort of become desensitized to the people you're helping.

The doctor that saw my mum was really rude. We waited for 10 hours, and he sees her for 2 minutes. His biggest concern was WHY we didn't take my mum to her family physician (who is on vacation). He finally said, "she's fine". That's it. No explanation. No nothing. Apparently bleeding from places she shouldn't be is not really an indicator to worry. I literally ran after him so he could tell me what was wrong with her. He gives me a frustrated look. Well, excuuuuuuuuse me for not having graduated from the school of quack doctors with no bedside manners! The least you can do is tell me what the fuck is wrong with my mother so I never have to come see your ugly mug and waste that precious 2 minutess of your godforsaken life, you fucking moron!

You know, I'm the gopher when it comes to taking my family to the hospital. By now, I should have accumulated enough frequent flier miles for hospital trips to earn me all inclusive round-trip tickets to the Seychelles! I've been in the Emergency Rooms of 3 major hospitals, for 4 different occasions.. and none of them were for me. I've seen enough sick people to make me want to go to the gym every day for the rest of my life. I don't want to live forever, but I do want to live a life where I never have to see a doctor again. When I die, my one wish is that people don't bawl their eyes out like crazy or if I get run over by a truck, please take me home and switch on the Borat movie - do not take me to Emergency where I will probably bleed out while waiting for those precious doctors who really don't have the time nor the bedside manners to see me.

Stuck in a place where I was surrounded by people better AND worse off than me, in a place that was filled with never-ending consumption of caffeine laced with frustration, having seen bouts of desensitization in so many people, I realized that ... man, it is so easy to lose faith - in yourself (inversely proportional to your faith in God though!). It becomes so easy to become cynical. To question motives. To question meaning. To question people. To question your choices in everything that you do.

I've questioned a lot about myself over the weekend. Will I leave any sort of legacy for people to look past my death within 30 seconds and bring up conversations about Autoshows or Raptors games anytime soon? Am I doomed to meet losers? Will I ever get a professional job and have minions working under me? Will I ever figure out how to work the TV and DVD and the satellite simultaneously?! Will I ever find a decent pair of jeans that I don't have to hem? Will they ever make hospitals in my lifetime where an Emergency situation is taken care of immediately? Will I ever get to meet Chuck Norris?!

I know, riveting stuff. Makes you question life, the validity of your being... I dunno, maybe its my way of being desensitized to the holy crapola around us. 10 minutes, 10 days, 10 years - does it really matter at the end of the day?  You lose so much just by being like these doctors desensitized little Florence Nightingales and dipwads. I hope by watching what these guys have lost, I become the kind of person who would be anything but.