Desi Girl Called Isheeta

Intangible Love

You know what's the best part about liking someone who doesn't live in the same city as you?

The fact that *when* you know when it's going to be over (cuz lets face it... it will), every other dessert lounge/coffee bar/movie/favourite romantic spot that you have NOT frequented in town will NOT remind you of him. Because you guys never spent that precious time doing all those favourite things that normal couples take for granted.

Your memories have nothing to do with sharing that waffle cone of Jamoca Almond Fudge from Baskin Robbins.
Your memories do not entail you crying over that chick flick rental on a rainy night while he helped himself to some extra salsa and pizza.
Your memories did not involve subjecting that poor guy to endless hours of prime-time shopping companion on a Saturday afternoon.
Your memories do not compromise of you two sitting in front of the lake at the Harbourfront while you debated the merits of something silly like why cupcakes taste better when they have frosting.

What you did instead is spend endless weeknights talking on AIM.
What you did is giggle every time your Nokia phone let out that standard "1 New Message" because you know its not Fido telling you that you have used up all of your daytime minutes.
What you did is discuss over the phone why Denny Crane (from "Boston Legal") should run for President of the World and how Stewie Griffin (from "Family Guy") should be his VP.
What you did is visualize how you would plant a wet one on his cheeks and ruffle his hair when he finally came to see you in town.

What you did is reminisce about the events that never came into fruitition.

I don't know what is more of a consolation prize here - the fact that getting over someone in this case belongs to the category of "out of sight, out of mind" and hence crying in the pillow every night will be an event shorter than the season of Oprah's Big Give, or the fact that you are strangely calm knowing that you knew *in that time* that you were heading to a labyrinth, and so when it doesn't work out, you... just... get... over... it.... unfortunately.

I've never been one to covet long distance relationships. It just doesn't work with me. You would think that given my nature to forego all the pleasures in the world for a surreal, utopian kind of love that transcends time and distance, I would be all gung-ho about it. But the reality is the opposite, because I'm a little more messed up than that - to me, love cannot be complete without passion, and passion cannot be complete if you are unable to look at someone's eyes every time you feel  that inkling of desire for them.

I will admit, however, that I have been open to the whole long distance crap on more than one occasion.  That... is the irony, ladies and gents. I have tried, because the type of people I seem to be inexplicably drawn to definitely do not reside anywhere within 100 kms of me. Canadians - bah! They are either in America, or England, or South Africa, or the guy who owns some island in Bora Bora, or hell, or.... Australia.

As much as I love my fabulous life, sucks to be me sometimes.

But AJ, my Ozzie friend, you suck MORE because you KNOW that you're getting knee deep in some(thing/one) because you're doing it all within home base! Unless you pull an "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind", you're going to be stuck with more than just memories of favourite spots!

The Paradox Of Our Age, by Dr. Bob Moorehead

(Not by me... but I had to put it up!)

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers; wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less; we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families; more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense; more knowledge, but less judgment; more experts, yet more problems; more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.

We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion; big men and small character; steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce; fancier houses but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.

Remember, spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.

Remember to say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.

Remember to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.

Remember to say "I love you" to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.

Give time to love, give time to speak, and give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

AND ALWAYS REMEMBER:
Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.

Dr. Bob Moorehead is former pastor of Seattle's Overlake Christian Church. He retired in 1998 after 29 years in that post. The essay appeared in 'Words Aptly Spoken,' Dr. Moorehead's 1995 collection of prayers, homilies, and monologues used in his sermons and radio broadcasts.

Letting go of your dreams....

... to embrace reality.

This can be a hard sell, I'll tell you that.

Little white girls grow up dreaming of that beautiful wedding gown, hair done in a 'do with wisps of loose strands streaming down a sinewy neck laced with her mother's favourite pearls, her shoulders bare in a strapless wedding gown - sometimes the only bit of mystique being that beautiful but matching thin veil that adorns that lovely head. The setting is either a historic old church set in the countryside, or a garden bedecked with matching white patio furniture with white lilies. The 'wild' ones dream of having something close to the beach with the sun setting in the background and the waves lapping up the lovers' feet.

I grew up envisioning red. Lots of lots of red. And yellow. Not daffodil yellow in beautiful meadows, but the yellow that one associates with gold biscuits. Yep, not the bling that one associates with solitaire diamonds, but the bling that one associates with that tacky 21 carat jewellery. Along with those visions are plastered memories of a crying... no, thats too mild.. how about a sobbing hysterical bride as she is jettisoned off from her parents palatial grounds to a car adorned with roses and marigold. She is not waving to the crowds with a wan smile as she is sent off to her husband's home, carefully hiding her happiness at her honeymoon trip to Jamaica once the wedding guests leave. Rather, she is gazing forlornly at her parents.. and her brothers... and her uncles and aunts and nephews and sister's kids and her high school girlfriends sisters and her 10 auntijies who are all sending out the wrong message during this auspicious day by simultaneously bawling their eyes out at the precious little girl that they have seen grow up and now is bethrothed to a ....*gasp* man.

Is it ANY wonder that I had grown up to despise weddings?

I didn't want to be THAT hysterical girl crying and ruining her monkey make-up!

I come from a family of boys. For the longest time, my dad made sure I had everything that my brothers had, and more. I remember when I was getting my ears pierced (I was 10) and while it was a rite of passage for most young girls, to my dad it was a day with dark clouds. I guess he couldn't get over the fact that his only daughter was just not going to be one of his boys anymore. He began to accept the fact that one day, like all fathers, he would have to give away his daughter to someone else's hand in marriage (amid a sea of hysterical relatives).

I think my dad was sadly off with his timing - I'm sure he expected me to be gone MUCH sooner, but daddy's little girl is STILL home.. so he must be eating his words.

So coming to Canada, living the Canadian dream, graduating with an undergrad, getting Canadian work experience, and assimilating to the Canadian culture and lifestyle (party it up while young, get a good paying job, hanging out with desi buddies), I didn't envision anything less for me. I assumed like all my desi friends, I would meet someone... somewhere... who would sweep me off his feet with his hilarious sense of humour, his dashing personality and good looks, his keen intellect, his love of the East and the West, his zeal for girls with jhumka earrings and sexy shoes, to meet me. To acknowledge me. To accept me. To want me.

Reality couldn't even be close. Reality is not a glorifed camera that zooms into one's dreams with a 30mm camera (???) and focusing only one's emotions. Reality isn't about living up to stereotypical dreams. Reality isn't Hollywood... or Bollywood. Reality is a bloody documentary channel.

Reality does not provide clues to what's right and what's wrong. You can't rewind reality and fix it later. You can only review it once it has happened. Reality is honest, bitter.. not necessarily loving.

Reality, however, is truth.

I am so sorry, mum and dad, for not living up to your dreams. For having stolen that stereotypical bride-in-red vision from you. I'm trying, but....  I don't know if its the fact that I don't have faith in it anymore because I find the whole concept preposterous given the layers of cynicism that shrouds it, or because it is so hard to reach for it now that I don't even know if I can fathom going through that barbed wire again and again and again, for the umpteenth time, just to fulfill this dream that you have to appease your sanity.

Forgive me, but... I must do what I have to do. I must let go of your dreams, and accept my reality.

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. 

2007

I know I wasn't going to post until the 3rd... but Samosa's post sort of motivated me to do this.

If you've been a regular reader of my blog... you probably have an inkling of what happened in 2007 for me. Some good, some bad, some downright lunatic... I know, riveting stuff!

So I'm going to recap 2007 in the year of the Isheeta, so I can go ahead and grow and all that psychedelic pop culture inspirational thing you're supposed to think of at the end of the year as a time of reflection to justify your... lifestyle, as we know it. (hey, I'm honest!)

Jan - snow. But no big deal. I took some mad-ass engineering Physics course. Sleeping became a thing of the past. Welllllll.. actually, no, sleeping in front of the couch became THE THING. Working was a bitch because driving in the snow at 6.45am meant I gave in to my swearing like a sailor thing.
Man situation: meets young kids at school. Ish starts to hate young kids.

Feb - Still hating Valentine's. End of story. I think I watched a lot of movies. The ones where all the boyfriends and girlfriends in movies die. Especially if a romantic candle-lit dinner was responsible for arson.
Man situation: Will not rock the cradle.

Mar - BLANK. I guess nothing memorable. Not even when it was RedBull's Bday. Hahahahhahaa
Man situation: Isheeta gets introduced to the biggest blimp on the planet.

April - Exam time. Studied at work. Studied at school. Studied in the toilet. Maybe thats why I didnt do so well in the exam.
Man situation: No time for men, period.

May - full-time work. Sis-in-law lands in the country with the beloved nephew. Am feeling the need to change diapers as biological clock is tick-tock tick-tocking away.
Man situation: Isheeta decides to add a Naseeb category on her blog because of the losers there.

June - avoid ALL desi wedding invites. Go to my first white-people wedding in a long time at Atlantis. I've decided that I want a hubby with lots of bling and moolah. Go to NYC with Samosa, and proceed to fall in love with NYC and Samosa. Lose all shopping in NYC. Hey, at least not the camera this time around!
Man situation: NYC Is full of hot men jogging shirtless in Central Park. Need to move to NYC when loaded. Isheeta gets set up, dates a bit, gives dating tips on her blog, gets pissed off numerous times, and proceeds to blow up the world.

July - Friend from England comes to stay over. She is awesome. I am reminded again how much I love girls.
Man situation: non-existent. Isheeta is a closet lesbian. Isheeta is quizzed on the size of her mammaries.

Aug - drive to Ottawa for whitewater rafting. Wake up at 5 am, get there by 10am, lie to parents that I'm going to Toronto, raft all day, leave Ottawa by 7 pm, arrive home by midnight. Momzilla is pissed that I wasnt home by dinner and... life goes on.
Man situation: Ish loves the men again, expecially when they are tanned and shirtless in the Ottawa River.

Sept - Working like a dog again. Work politics getting to me.
Man situation: Getting hit on by old old old men at work. I guess it's nice to be liked.... even if it is by creeps. But that just won't do, because.. because.. I am in love with the concept of love, yet again. And dukes it out with all the assholes who want a woman to be career oriented before marriage, but completely to set that aside once married. Like, get a clue! Know what you want, men!

Oct - Ish celebrates the birth of a princess (i.e. her... lol). Starts full-time post-grad school. Actually liking it. Very busy. Celebrates Eid. Loves the book "No God but God". A pox on all preachers.
Man situation: Isheeta wonders if she will ever find a man since she is now older than half the population in Canada. At least there is Bobbles.

Nov - Missing the parents like a bitch. Has started to interior decorate and cook. Isheeta accepts her nesting phase, and decides that she needs to pull an Angelina and start adopting and steal husbands if she wants to forget waiting for Prince Charming. Isheeta unofficially issues fatwas to auntijis.
Man situation: Accept the fact that there are no men in Canada.

Dec - Isheeta falls in love....

To be continued... in 2008! ;)

Oh. My. Geek.

I cannot believe I am taking Physics instead of freakin' Computer Science.

To think that instead of being surrounded by octogenerians instructors, I could have been drooling in the same vicinity, learning something, being instructed in tech-savyness, by someone as delicious as this.

Be still, my beating nanochip.

The Offline World

Otherwise known as... well, Life.

I had a healthy dose of that today. While it is true I spend very little time online catching up with people (since I'm way too engrossed in ME hahahahahha), the fact of the matter is.... well, I am permanently connected to the internet, thanks to my wireless connection and via PDA etc.

I wake up in the morning to check my email. Oh. No internet. S'ok, I don't need it. I'll study instead.

Since my Physics text sucks with explanations, I usually google every concept and learn everything from every other univ website or Wiki. So when I was stuck with a problem today, I go to Wiki. Oopsie, no connection... ok, no worries, I'll have to REALLY read between the lines in my book and figure things out ON MY OWN. I'm a bit anxious, but it's ok... I'm smart, right? I can do this.

Lunch time comes around... my stomach is growling. I need to go grocery shopping. I'm tired of  munching on processed food. My stomach is craving fruits and veggies and meat and fish and oh, rusk bread/biscuits. Right, I need the address of a specialty store that sells rusk bread/biscuits (to dunk in tea. Yes, I know its a brown thing, so yeah, ok, I'm a fob, ok, but I love it!). Where is this store? Is it open? It's ok, I'll google it and get the address.

Go to laptop. Oh. Page not found. Check your server connection. Oh right, I forgot. Crap. Ok, fine, whatever, I can live without biscuits for a day. I don't even drink tea. Tea is just an excuse to dunk my biscuits in.

I come home, take the precious shower that Ruby said it would make all the difference in the world. (LOL). It does. I moisturize myself with my vanilla plum body lotion. Yum, I smell nice! But hey, I'm running out of this specialty product... I need to order more of this. I got this thing online. Ok, must order before it runs out... oh, wait, I have no connection. ACK! Ok, ok, relax, make a memo and order later.

My phone rings, it's my friend who wants to go shopping with me in a few weeks. We want to go shopping for new dresses for this swanky wedding we will be attending in June (at the fuckin' ATLANTIS!!!! NICE!) She's seen this dress at this uber-hot store, and she wants me to check out their site to check out their dress. I almost run to the computer..... and remember the no connection part. Ugh! I tell her to email me the link and I will check it out later when I'm connected. No problemo! She also tells me she needs me to check out this hot deal she has seen at Red Tag vacations for the Maritimes trip.... and of course I tell her to email it to me again, since I can't access. UGH! Damn, what is the matter with me? Why can't I just let go?!

I hang up, check my PDA to see whats next. Oh, it reminds me that my Mastercard is due. Today. I work in a bank, so I can always get someone to pay it for me there. But that means going to work. And I'm not working today. And I'm most certainly not going to the bank to pay ONE bill. Thats retarded. But my internet is down...and interest charges.... ah, crud, fine, I'll go to the friggin' bank!! Friggin internet connection!

I come back from the bank, sit home to study. I get an sms. I love receiving sms'es! Who has texted me now?! Which mysterious Prince Charming is pining for me?! Come hither, dumpling, 1 New Message Received!

I open it.... its friggin' Fido. "Welcome to Fido Picture & Video Messaging. To view your pictures and videos, visit fido.ca/mypictures."  AAAAAAAGH! I have to go ONLINE to view?! FRIGGIN COMPUTER piece of shit! Bah!

Never mind. I go hit the books again. Two hours later, I'm bored. I need distraction. I know, I usually read or watch the news to distract me. I'm curious about the VT tragedy. Apparently some security campus or police numbnuts could have diffused the situation, if they weren't pursuing the wrong dude, or if Virginia wasn't a trigger-happy gun-toting state. The world is up in arms about the US' lax gun laws.  I switch on the telly. Stupid soaps are on. Ok, never mind, where's the news. An ad comes up... 'coming up in Global News, the VT tragedy, at 6 o'clock...'. What? I have to wait till 6 to watch the news?! Screw that, I'll just catch it online.

Oh wait, I have no freakin connection, I HAVE to watch the friggin TV! Piece of crap, friggin internet, who the !@#$%$ cares about stupid internet and its stupid connection!

Ok, need distraction. I know, I'll work out. I've ignored my fab body for much too long (shuddup, I have a healthy self-esteem, ok?!). I need to work off those cashews and aspartames. I go down to the treadmill downstairs, and put on the hand-weights. I'm going to work my legs and and my butt today. Where are those butt exercises Samosa sent me? Oh right. She emailed me the link. I'm so smart, I never downloaded or saved them. I love me. I'm a genius. I usually bookmark them and work out whilst checking it out ONLINE. I am ready to kick myself in the shins by now.

CRUD CRUD CRUD! Ok, never mind, I SHALL CONQUER! I shall just walk really fast instead and hope the the fat transforms into magical steely glutes if I walk really fast on this treadmill thing! Who needs online butt exercises when you have brains of steel?! YEAH! thats the Ish we know, always positive, always improvising... always forgetting.

Workout is done, time to make some dinner. I bought some salmon today, I want to make this awesome dish with smoked salmon and capers. My friend gave me this awesome recipe. She emailed it to me. NOOOOO! Why does everyone always friggin email me everything?! Even when I never reply to them?! Why am I such a freakin Einstein that I never save anything on my drive?! Why do I have to log in to retrieve it?! Why can't I just log in?! BECAUSE I have no freakin' internet! GRRRRRRR!!!!!!!

Calm down, Ish, calm down. Make something else. How about leftover waffles again hahaha?! Ew, no thanks, I open a can of jackfruit and chickpeas instead. (shut up, don't ask, I eat anything these days).

I'm not understanding Physics, I can't Wiki anything, I am in no mood to amuse myself with dumb soap operas or talk shows, I need rusk biscuits, I can't read the news, my butt shall be massive.... ok, relax Ish, NEWSFLASH Ish! None of these are earth-shattering events, all of these can wait, its all in your head. Stop being antsy.  Why don't you call Samosa or something, you haven't talked to her for 2 days ages.

I call up Samosa. We do our daily bitchuals (bitching rituals). I love Samosa, thank God she can be just as bitchy and funny when she's mad. She tells me to check out some person from Facebook. I tell her I'll do so under my brother's ID. OH WAIT. I FREAKIN' CAN'T. You know why?!

CUZ MY GODDAMN COMPUTER HAS NO GODDAMN INTERNET CONNECTION!

Samosa advises me to steal some neighbours' wireless connection. Samosa is very good for the soul, as you can see. I have no idea how this works...so, she advises me to walk around with my laptop at strategic positions around the house and maybe I'll get lucky. I do as she says... I feel like a beggar from the homeland, scouring for a rich tourist or Dubaiwallah to scrimp some American dollahs from. But hey, despearate times call for desperate measures. There is no shame in doing good for the benefit of the common good. And when I say common good, I mean my sanity.

So I'm walking around the house scouring for a firewall-less connection.... ooh, here's one... I click it... connecting..... connecting.... AHA!!!!! SUCCESS!!!!!! This thing actually works!!!! OH LORD, thank you thank you thank you!

And then, pfft. As quickly as it had come, like Britney Spears' 15 minutes of fame, as quickly as it goes away.

AAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

I am SO ANGRY AT MYSELF!

I am ready to kill my computer and my D-Link and my PDA and my TV and my Texas calculator and my cell phone and my digital camera and my hairdryer and my microwave and anything tech-related because they're all technology and I cannot believe how much they run my life! I cannot believe I am someone who prides herself in spending the least amount of time idling away in front of the computer chatting to friends, I cannot believe I am always bemoaning how I am so tech and computer inept, yet I am so tech-dependent at the same time that I am ready to smash someone's head because I cannot spend a whole day without the goddamn internet connection!!!

I realllllly need to let off steam. I'm ready to head to the REAL gym, I will not be tortured like this at home and take it out on innocent people and smash their innocent heads, when my brother lets out the 3 words that all girls should give their right arms to hear every male say... "Sis, we're ONLINE!"

Oh. Wow. Really? Are you sure? Yep, he says.

Well, that wasn't so bad. Hey, CSI's on. Internet, what internet?

Beautiful Contradictions

My cousin came over from the States this week.

Normally when any of my relos come over, I barely bat an eyelid. This is because I find most of my relos a bit backward and annoying.

I’m not trying to be rude, really.

I remember when we went back home for my brother’s wedding a few years ago. We hadn’t been back home in like 8 years. So it’s all a bit novel to us. We hadn’t really participated in a wedding in a LONG time, so a lot of people took to telling us what our roles were. We were like little white tourists, super polite and going along with cultural norms and traditions. So we show up at the girl’s mehndi ceremony. This is when the boy’s family (us and cousins) go over to the girl’s place and put mehndi on her.. or something.

Anyways, so after we’ve stuffed her face with laddus and rasgullahs and henna-ed her hands so she looks like a tattoo artist gone wild, we get served dinner.

Now, we’re desi. This means, we eat with our hands. Nothing beats getting greasy ghee-laden food curry all over your fingers, so your left hand looks all nice and nail-polished, while the right hand-fingers look totally sulphurized. There is a high probability that your hands will not get back their natural color until they’ve been soaked in bleach.

So when my brothers and I are served dinner, we’re eating. And yes, yes, we are eating with our hands. I mean, everybody is. We’re in the country lands, after all. If you don’t eat with your hands… chances are you’re gonna have to eat with your feet. :D Utilization of limbs is a must. 

My cousins and their wives, snoots as they are, demand forks and knives. They are yapping on their cell-phones, yelling at the kids and the bride’s family for glasses and plates and cutlery. They are yelling like they are the high priestesses of the Roman Empire who needs cutlery for their sacrificial lambs.

Oh lordy it was so embarrassing. It’s like going camping with Paris Hilton and her posse of blithering fools. I couldn’t believe people who live IN the homeland would make people who live AWAY from the homeland look more cultured than themselves in THEIR cultural norms.

Man, if you’re going to a traditional wedding, and they serve you mudcakes garnished with sprigs of grass, you eat it. Otherwise you look like an utter upper-class hoity-toity zamindar where people respect you to your face but piss at your food.

Anyways. SO it surprised me when one of my cousins came over this weekend, and dispensed some words of wisdom that completely defied his cousinly roots.

I’m being my usual sarcastic/bubbly/psycho self. And my cousin says, “I cannot believe that you haven’t been snapped up yet. You’re so full of life, what guy would not like that?”

You all know how much I hate this marriage talks… not because I hate the idea of marriage, but because I am frustrated as to why everybody brings it up but nobody seems to do anything about it. I mean, I don’t have any problems with my scenario, so why do they?

My cousin lets it go.

Later on, he tells me something. Whenever I’m talking, or making any comments, I’m the one who seems to bring this up. I mean, if I see a couple fighting in TV, I’d go, “see, you don’t have to be married to fight with your loved one, you can fight them without being married to them!” Or, I’d say something like, “Nooooooooooooo, don’t kiss him, Indian soap opera star with blue contact lenses and vaseline smeared look, don’t fall for that lout, he only wants you to think he likes you but actually he only wants your grandmother!”

My cousin said, “You can make all the snide comments you want, Ish, but it doesn’t always have to be about this marriage business. Don’t make everything about marriage.”

I tried to defend myself, but I shut up because he was right.

Even when people are not talking about it, I’m the one bringing it up. I don’t even bring it up in a positive light, I just bash it. I mean, I can’t blame me, really, my parents have done a number on me by constantly repeating that crap to me. Gaaaaaah! I sounded like a bitter old lady! I am not bitter. I am happy! Happy Isheeta! That's the rules.  No debt = happy Isheeta. Beautiful clothes  = happy Isheeta.  Good friends = Happy Isheeta.   

I love marriage. I can't wait for mine - with pink haired My Little Ponies and lilies and red saris and smokey eyed look at reception and wedding registry at Pottery Barn and many gold necklaces from relos that I'll never wear. I am looking fwd to it! My bro is married. They have the cutest little baby in the world. My parents are married. They have the cutest  little baby in the world - me. (hahahaha!). My fucked up cousins are married (their kids will be fucked, oh poor things). My friends are married (theyre fucked, sorry). Even someone like George Bush (Sr and Jr) fooled women into marrying them. Shitney did it twice, for Pete's sakes. Liz Hurley just did it with the scantiest non-traditional clothes in a fuckin castle, and SHE looks happy. It can’t be all THAT bad. The population of the world depends on marriage (and copulation to follow) for the survival of the world. So it can’t be so bad. I should stop bashing it. I don’t hate it. Its just that people should really shut up about it to me. Well, since the last week, people have stopped yakking about it to me, and believe me when I say I am considerably happier because I’ve got so much going on in my life now it seems, its been awesome.

My cousin wanted to take a picture of me too. I told him that I looked like crap that day so maybe another time. Then my cousin spews out another Confucius saying. By now, of course I am having an epileptic seizure coupled with a minor cardiac arrest. I mean, where is all this smartness coming from? 

He asks, “Do you know what beauty is, Isheeta?”

I tell him, “yeah yeah beauty is simplicity, beauty is sophisticated, eyes of the beholder, its skin-dee-”

“No. Beauty is NONE of that. Beauty…. Beauty is having a beautiful inner soul. That’s it. Beauty is not defined by sophistication, or beautiful hair or glowing skin or scanty clothes or how much you spend on yourself.”

“Beauty is having a loving inner soul which would make ANYONE fall for YOU. That will precede everything and will determine everything in your life to follow.”

Wow.
.

.

.

.

Did that make sense?

I can’t believe my cousin descended from my relatives. How can something so pretty come out from someone who belongs to a family of heathens and snoots?

I guess life is full of surprises. I can’t wait to uncover them all!

Happy weekend!

Under the rock

I woke up this morning and I realized I didn't want my face all over the internet.

So my personal album has been altered a bit; lets see how the rest of the blog follows.

I'm still pretty shallow to uglicize my thumbnail pic, but I will photoshop it enough so strangers don't come up to me and go, "hey, aren't you Isheeta?"

I had a *third* person (from another website) come up to me recently... scary!

As for the blog archives/Isheeta's life... I figure if people who read me and come across me one day can't handle the real me, well, they're too weak for me then.

Got to run..... keep well my pretty petunias! Email you tonite!

T - 1.5 for Valentine's! I'm going to wear ALL black, to show I'm boycotting this commercial holiday! (minus blog design withstanding)

p.s. 10% of you would rather be a suckyboo than come to frozen Toronto?! C'mon! We will be having a snowstorm with 25 cm of snow tomorrow...... I can't believe you'd miss out on that! :D

The proliferation of me

Sorry about that AWOL situation... what can I say, the parents are back and things back to their busy-hectic-I-have-no-time-to-breathe scenario. I missed those!

Looks like not a lot of people liked Part Deux... oh well, you win some, you lose some.

A few people have asked me whats the dealio regarding passwords.

To cut a long story short, please read this post.

In a nutshell, a private password restricted section/posts/albums was created during my transition from Blogger to Typepad because I got sick and tired of anonymous fucktards judging me and leaving me nasty comments. I have enough shit in my life as it is, and I don't need shit from the internet. :) I love the internet. Do not make me associate shit with the internet! R.E.S.P.E.C.T the internet and you R.E.S.P.E.C.T me!

Anyways, a lot of the regulars who read this site know the username and password... if you are a new reader and would like access to my thoughts and my world, all you have to do is tell me a little about you (so I know youre not a jerk), and I'll give it to you. It's that simple. If you have forgotten it, fear not, I still remember it so I can email it to you. BTW, Ive emailed those that asked via comments.

The imposition of a password in this site is in no way meant to make readers feel inferior, as if they 'need' to ask me for it. I am not your boss and you're not mine. What you choose to read and view is entirely upto you. Why you judge someone is entirely upto you. How you judge ME to my face - sorry, I'm going to be a Saddam Hussein here. That is NOT upto you, because I ask you to practice a little common sense and a little tact and good manners. Show me what your mamma taught you!

I just do not like assholes and bitches, its that simple. My blog is my head and my emotions in a nutshell, and when people say things out of turn by judging me and without giving any thought to trying to understand me, its a big turn off.   I have people emailing me, and sometimes I fall in love with them so much via email that I bombard them with my password when they havent even asked until they tell me to shut up and stop spamming! :)

Now that that is out of the way... I have to talk about something thats bugging me.

Do you LIKE listening to me talk about my personal life here? I know, I know, its MY blog so whatever I say is upto me. But sometimes I feel guilty yapping on and on and on about ME. I mean, I'm sure you have other things like

world news to engross yourself in, so sometimes I feel like I am doing a great disservice to the world when I talk about me.

I don't know, I guess over the course of a couple of years since I've started this blog... which btw I had first started to inform my friends of my dating escapades/disasters, and then transitioned into a journal of some sorts detailing more than that... I've freefalled into everything now.

I've learned quite a bit about people, and yesterday while I was taking a bath I realized that I have learnt way toooo much about people. Its comforting knowing that I know exactly how most people think and it makes me feel... at the risk of sounding conceited... supersmart! Mind you though, maybe the sea salts had pemeated to my brain and made me think all crazy, but whatever. I realized that even if a truck hit me while I stepped out of my house, I would be content with all of mylife so far.

I've learnt that I'm an emotional basketcase passionate about my needs and my family, and I've learnt that I will always put them before me. I've learnt that I've accepted that, and that makes me sleep all warm and tingly inside.

I've learnt so much about me, I love that I know that I've learnt all this. I'm excited that I will more so in the future.

So I apologize if its always been about me. But I'm happy. I'm satisfied. I'm content.

Having said that, I need to ask YOU: Are you happy with the way this blog is going? Would you I shut up about me and start talking about the world? I just... dont want to burden you!

Ok, feedback please... but just so you know, if you say anything nasty, I WILL cut you up.

:D

Some things never change.