I'm hurt. I'm tired. I'm bored.
That's why I'm back.
I graduated with my master's degree 4 months ago: not much wiser, quite a lot poorer, and still no closer to getting a job.
As a student, I had so much energy and drive, I got things done, I was good. And now I'm back in this state of lethargy and apathy that I associate with unemployment. I am constantly looking for paid work that interests or stimulates me, and will provide me with the validation I need to feel like a proper, useful, adult human being -- and I'm not finding it.
I've realized that I come to this blog to whine. I'm also incredibly lazy, but somehow I manage to whip up the energy to write only when I want to complain. So, the fact that I haven't really been around for the last 6 months should suggest that things were good, and that I had no reason to whine. I suppose they were. But I was also trying to use Facebook and Twitter as my ways of expressing myself instead of this blog, partly for their brevity and convenience, partly because I actually have an audience there.
But somehow when it comes to the true whining, I prefer to come here. I like the anonymity of this blog. Well, nothing on the Internet is anonymous, but despite being public information, almost nobody comes here. I like that. It's nice to have some place with the freedom to share, privately.
I'm hurt by this job hunt. I feel like until I get a job, I am worthless and unfulfilled, and just a burden. I didn't realize just how much I was depending on finding a job until yesterday when I got rejected by a company that I had interviewed at, and was extremely excited about having the opportunity to join. But then, as usual, they said no. And suddenly, all the positivity I had managed to create over the past few weeks came crashing down. I was a mess and I cried all day, all the while wondering to myself -- why the heck are you crying? This has happened so many times, this isn't new, why are you overreacting?
But sometimes, you just get tired. Tired of trying, of being brave, of trying not to care, of hoping and praying. Sometimes things just suck. I'm tired, I'm beat.
And this tiredness bores me. I long to be energized, excited, passionate about something - anything. But passion and creativity are in short supply nowadays. I can barely bring myself to watch mindless TV, let alone read, cook, clean or do errands. I'm bored of being bored. I play mind games with myself to actually complete chores. My preferred activity is keeping still and thinking (about problems mostly) myself into oblivion. It's a terrible funk and the only thing that will get me out of it is a job -- which are scarce nowadays.
During the day, my brain just feels like it has shut down. But it's amazing how it wakes up while I sleep. Mostly I have wild and crazy dreams about fantastical situations, like being on the run from President Obama. But occasionally, I'll have an oddly real and poignant dream, about people that I once loved but are no longer in my life, about conversations that I never had the chance to have, about apologies I will never ever get.
I had one of these last night. It stirred something inside of me, and when I woke up, I knew it had to mean something. At first I thought it was a message from the person in my dream!, who must be thinking the same thing!, and sending me those vibes! Yeah. Right. I've long since taught myself to not hope for such fanciful things. I have come to understand that emotional experiences that stir you on the inside are usually blessings from God -- coded messages from Him, meant to give you perspective and strength.
My dream from last night was about a conversation I wish I had the chance to have now with someone I once knew. Although I have dreamed about this many times, I have always woken up before the conversation started. But last night, I heard everything I wanted to hear. I got the conversation. And when I woke up, I was at peace.
So I thought about it... and eventually, I figured it out. It was my survival instinct, waking up and reminding me -- "You can cope. You can complete this journey just as you completed this conversation. Cope with your current disappointments the way you coped with the ones in your past. Find the strength to keep moving, even if you don't know if you'll end up where you want to. Keep trying to get there, and one day you will."
So I've decided, yet again, that I will try. I will continue to try and cope and keep plodding on. I came crashing down one day, but enough is enough -- it's time to get back on the horse. It's the right thing to do. The sensible thing to do.
The only thing to do.
Showing posts with label Rants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rants. Show all posts
September 29, 2009
March 10, 2009
Re-dun-dun-t
Once and for all, I would just like to say that there is technically no such thing as a "Chai Tea Latte".
"Chai" by definition is a Hindi word for tea with milk.
So a "Chai Tea Latte" translates into an incredibly redundant "Tea with Milk with Tea with Milk".
Why can't people (read: Starbucks) understand this? The whole concept is erroneously flawed and frustratingly bothersome! (See how annoying redundancies are?)
"Chai" by definition is a Hindi word for tea with milk.
So a "Chai Tea Latte" translates into an incredibly redundant "Tea with Milk with Tea with Milk".
Why can't people (read: Starbucks) understand this? The whole concept is erroneously flawed and frustratingly bothersome! (See how annoying redundancies are?)
February 8, 2009
2nd Worst Social Occasion Ever.
After my rant about baby showers, I realized that I'm also very sick of weddings. They're never as fun as Bollywood makes them out to be.
Think about it: if you're merely a guest, it's boring to sit at a table with strangers and watch the proceedings from afar. If you're close to the family, you either want to help and no one asks you to, making you feel rebuffed, or they take you for granted and run you to the ground without a word of thanks. If it's your own, you're the stressed-out bride who believes the whole world is out to ruin her life and is never happy with the way things turn out.
The only scenario in which weddings are somewhat entertaining is when they involve your siblings. But even then, inevitably, your parents will ruin it all, like they've always ruined everything else!
From an emotional perspective, I think there's too much pressure at desi weddings, usually of the bad kind. Brides and grooms are so focused on the inconsequential minutiae of the wedding, that they forget to focus on the marriage, which - no matter how much you know or love the other person - is bloody hard work. Who cares if the centerpieces match the exact shade of the bride's eye-shadow? Do you think anyone will notice? Will you really care three years from now when, let's say, you're sweaty and tired from saddling your teething toddler and you wish your husband would help without you having to ask?
Marriage can be wonderful, but it is a serious endeavor. It's a big deal. And its seriousness is lost in the frivolities of pre-wedding, wedding, and post-wedding celebrations, and that frustrates me. And nobody gives the bride and groom a reality check because no one wants to be the killjoy, but are words of wisdom really that lame?
Weddings always leave me very emotionally confused. I enjoy the rituals, but I get easily frustrated when things don't run like clockwork and become weary from the forced merriment of various traditions. I'm happy for the couple, but I worry that they don't know what they're getting into, and have to bite back from interfering in their lives.
That being said, everyone and their uncle seems to be getting married in 2009 and I wanna get married too!
What's that? Oh. I'm already married. Well, yeah, but my wedding was so disappointing. I was the bride who was unhappy with most of the dresses, had NO friends around, had to put up with a lot of distant family members she didn't really like, had too many awkward moments with in-laws, no dancing routines, an unpleasant joota-chupai, a weird nikah ceremony, bad photographs, a day-before-wedding "let's call it off" panic attack... oh yeah, the list is endless. The whole thing was a week of awkwardness and forced merriment from start to finish.
Which is why... I WANT A DO-OVER! :P
Think about it: if you're merely a guest, it's boring to sit at a table with strangers and watch the proceedings from afar. If you're close to the family, you either want to help and no one asks you to, making you feel rebuffed, or they take you for granted and run you to the ground without a word of thanks. If it's your own, you're the stressed-out bride who believes the whole world is out to ruin her life and is never happy with the way things turn out.
The only scenario in which weddings are somewhat entertaining is when they involve your siblings. But even then, inevitably, your parents will ruin it all, like they've always ruined everything else!
From an emotional perspective, I think there's too much pressure at desi weddings, usually of the bad kind. Brides and grooms are so focused on the inconsequential minutiae of the wedding, that they forget to focus on the marriage, which - no matter how much you know or love the other person - is bloody hard work. Who cares if the centerpieces match the exact shade of the bride's eye-shadow? Do you think anyone will notice? Will you really care three years from now when, let's say, you're sweaty and tired from saddling your teething toddler and you wish your husband would help without you having to ask?
Marriage can be wonderful, but it is a serious endeavor. It's a big deal. And its seriousness is lost in the frivolities of pre-wedding, wedding, and post-wedding celebrations, and that frustrates me. And nobody gives the bride and groom a reality check because no one wants to be the killjoy, but are words of wisdom really that lame?
Weddings always leave me very emotionally confused. I enjoy the rituals, but I get easily frustrated when things don't run like clockwork and become weary from the forced merriment of various traditions. I'm happy for the couple, but I worry that they don't know what they're getting into, and have to bite back from interfering in their lives.
That being said, everyone and their uncle seems to be getting married in 2009 and I wanna get married too!
What's that? Oh. I'm already married. Well, yeah, but my wedding was so disappointing. I was the bride who was unhappy with most of the dresses, had NO friends around, had to put up with a lot of distant family members she didn't really like, had too many awkward moments with in-laws, no dancing routines, an unpleasant joota-chupai, a weird nikah ceremony, bad photographs, a day-before-wedding "let's call it off" panic attack... oh yeah, the list is endless. The whole thing was a week of awkwardness and forced merriment from start to finish.
Which is why... I WANT A DO-OVER! :P
February 3, 2009
Worst Social Occasion.. Ever
I hate Baby Showers. The whole concept behind them is just weird and uncomfortable and gross. Women make me awkward as it is, so I wouldn't want to be stuck with a whole bunch of them for an entire evening, hearing war stories about how this person's water broke, and how this person was in labor for 12 hours, discussing intimate details about people's bodily functions, and having conversations which include words like placenta, va-jay-jay, and epidural. And I really don't want to play stupid games about "Ooh look who's baby is born first when this creepy plastic baby melts out of the ice cube it has been incarcerated in to simulate a uterus."
OK I'm gonna have a baby (someday), thanks for your good wishes, but it's a very private matter that's for me, my husband and my family, and I don't need metaphoric amniotic fluid in my drinking glasses, thank you very much.
Plus, the baby isn't even born yet, so what's to celebrate? Yes, I'll need lots of gear when the baby arrives, and if you really want to give me gifts to help me out, that's awesome. I'll set up a registry and they can come to me in the mail. I'll even send you a thank you card. But do we really need to have a big estrogen-fueled giggle-bash to give someone a diaper genie?
Of course, I have no aversion to parties, and I certainly don't need an excuse to eat cake - and God knows that pregnant women deserve all the sugar they can lay their hands on.
But baby showers, by definition, are intellectually stupidifying, socially awkward, and only reinforce the indulgent, giggly, feminine, "look-at-me-I'm-special-cos-my-eggs-work" woman stereotype that makes me want to throw up.
OK I'm gonna have a baby (someday), thanks for your good wishes, but it's a very private matter that's for me, my husband and my family, and I don't need metaphoric amniotic fluid in my drinking glasses, thank you very much.
Plus, the baby isn't even born yet, so what's to celebrate? Yes, I'll need lots of gear when the baby arrives, and if you really want to give me gifts to help me out, that's awesome. I'll set up a registry and they can come to me in the mail. I'll even send you a thank you card. But do we really need to have a big estrogen-fueled giggle-bash to give someone a diaper genie?
Of course, I have no aversion to parties, and I certainly don't need an excuse to eat cake - and God knows that pregnant women deserve all the sugar they can lay their hands on.
But baby showers, by definition, are intellectually stupidifying, socially awkward, and only reinforce the indulgent, giggly, feminine, "look-at-me-I'm-special-cos-my-eggs-work" woman stereotype that makes me want to throw up.
August 27, 2008
And thus does conscience make cowards of us all...
You know what grinds my gears?
THERE IS JUST TOO MUCH MUSIC IN THE WORLD... AND NOT ENOUGH TIME TO KNOW IT ALL AT ONCE.
And not just Music!
Poetry! Knowledge! Drama!
Pain! Wit! Wisdom!
Beauty! Perspective!
I want it all!
But there's just not enough damn TIME. Or inspiration. Or guidance.
Is there anyone out there who can teach me all I need to know by simply willing all this into my brain? A program that can be downloaded into my mind, a la The Matrix?
Ah, but there's the rub. Ambition is thwarted, yet again, by cowardice, impatience and, that queen of vice, sloth.
Seriously. It's a miracle we even wake up every morning, but an even bigger travesty that we turn in each night, without being even an ounce heavier in wisdom than we were when the sun rose.
Is life nothing but a series of wasted moments and missed opportunities? Is it justice to squander away our time simply by sighing for more of it, and achieving nothing while it passes? Are we doomed to settle for a phlegmatic existence simply because anything more would be too much?
I AM TOO SMALL TO BE THINKING ABOUT SUCH THINGS.
So I shall go play with my toys now. Byebye.
THERE IS JUST TOO MUCH MUSIC IN THE WORLD... AND NOT ENOUGH TIME TO KNOW IT ALL AT ONCE.
And not just Music!
Poetry! Knowledge! Drama!
Pain! Wit! Wisdom!
Beauty! Perspective!
I want it all!
But there's just not enough damn TIME. Or inspiration. Or guidance.
Is there anyone out there who can teach me all I need to know by simply willing all this into my brain? A program that can be downloaded into my mind, a la The Matrix?
Ah, but there's the rub. Ambition is thwarted, yet again, by cowardice, impatience and, that queen of vice, sloth.
Seriously. It's a miracle we even wake up every morning, but an even bigger travesty that we turn in each night, without being even an ounce heavier in wisdom than we were when the sun rose.
Is life nothing but a series of wasted moments and missed opportunities? Is it justice to squander away our time simply by sighing for more of it, and achieving nothing while it passes? Are we doomed to settle for a phlegmatic existence simply because anything more would be too much?
I AM TOO SMALL TO BE THINKING ABOUT SUCH THINGS.
So I shall go play with my toys now. Byebye.
May 31, 2008
Shame on You, Dunkin Donuts.
Dear Dunkin Donuts,
I am outraged at your decision to stop running a commercial based on the possible perception that it contained an Arab kaffiyeh.
Symbols are certainly important in any corporation's advertising and PR, but an item of clothing, that has been used simply as a fashion accessory by a spokesperson, should not be cause for prejudice against an entire people. All Palestinians are not terrorists, and wearing a paisley pattern on a scarf that is popular in all of the Middle East, not just Palestine, is hardly akin to supporting terrorism. One would have imagined that your PR department would be able to respond to Michele Malkin's baseless comments with that kind of integrity and firmness, and taken a stand in the face of such petty attempts at fear mongering.
However, your response has been far from adequate. By removing the ad from your wesbite, you have simply caved in to the narrow-minded beliefs touted by Malkin et al. It's additionally disappointing that a company of the stature of Dunkin Donuts, which, might I add, relies heavily on vast numbers of Muslim (and Palestinian) employees to run their franchises, has succumbed to conservative propaganda perpetuated by close-minded and ill-informed individuals on a cheap soapbox.
Until your company issues an official apology for yielding to anti-Arab racists, I am boycotting all of your products and stores -- and I'm encouraging all my friends and family members to do the same.
Signed with much disappointment and disgust.
To send your own letter of disapproval to Dunkin Donuts, sign this petition.
I am outraged at your decision to stop running a commercial based on the possible perception that it contained an Arab kaffiyeh.
Symbols are certainly important in any corporation's advertising and PR, but an item of clothing, that has been used simply as a fashion accessory by a spokesperson, should not be cause for prejudice against an entire people. All Palestinians are not terrorists, and wearing a paisley pattern on a scarf that is popular in all of the Middle East, not just Palestine, is hardly akin to supporting terrorism. One would have imagined that your PR department would be able to respond to Michele Malkin's baseless comments with that kind of integrity and firmness, and taken a stand in the face of such petty attempts at fear mongering.
However, your response has been far from adequate. By removing the ad from your wesbite, you have simply caved in to the narrow-minded beliefs touted by Malkin et al. It's additionally disappointing that a company of the stature of Dunkin Donuts, which, might I add, relies heavily on vast numbers of Muslim (and Palestinian) employees to run their franchises, has succumbed to conservative propaganda perpetuated by close-minded and ill-informed individuals on a cheap soapbox.
Until your company issues an official apology for yielding to anti-Arab racists, I am boycotting all of your products and stores -- and I'm encouraging all my friends and family members to do the same.
Signed with much disappointment and disgust.
To send your own letter of disapproval to Dunkin Donuts, sign this petition.
April 27, 2008
Deja Vu
I just want to eat and eat and eat and eat. Today I ate chocolate, a cheeseburger, a cheese melt, and more chocolate.
Put on 'Kuch Kuch Hota Hai' to distract myself. What a cheesy movie. It annoyed me more than distract me. I want to strangle Anjali.
Plus, the song "Tujhe yaad na meri aayi, kisise ab kya kehna.." reminded me that music is a bitch. As is, y'know, life.
Going to bed now. Convenient, considering I never got out of my PJs all day anyway. And I probably won't get out of them for a few days, since I have nowhere to be tomorrow.. or the day after.. or.. y'know.. ever.
Here we go again.
Put on 'Kuch Kuch Hota Hai' to distract myself. What a cheesy movie. It annoyed me more than distract me. I want to strangle Anjali.
Plus, the song "Tujhe yaad na meri aayi, kisise ab kya kehna.." reminded me that music is a bitch. As is, y'know, life.
Going to bed now. Convenient, considering I never got out of my PJs all day anyway. And I probably won't get out of them for a few days, since I have nowhere to be tomorrow.. or the day after.. or.. y'know.. ever.
Here we go again.
April 18, 2008
Feeling very sleepy and tired. Lots and lots of work to do at work, and little energy to do it. Must focus and concentrate. All emotions feel shut off except extreme meanness and sarcasm. Annoyed that Monday is an office holiday for Patriot's Day and I totally forgot about it, wasting the opportunity to make good long-weekend plans. Can't believe an earthquake hit Chicago. Bizarre. Missing my roommate Sakinah as its her birthday today. I haven't seen her since 2004, why is Malaysia so far away? I need a hug. And a bed.
April 16, 2008
It's That Time Of The Month.
Uff. Get your mind out of the gutter, people. Not *that* time of the month.
I only meant that it's Wednesday. Again. Hallelujah.
I only meant that it's Wednesday. Again. Hallelujah.
April 14, 2008
April 13, 2008
Blegh.
Sitting in Buffalo airport, waiting for my flight back to Boston. I only have about an hour until scheduled take-off but I decided to pay the $7.95 for day-long access to airport Internet. Wasteful, yes. But since when has that ever stopped an addict?
Toronto was OK. The wedding stopped being fun after the first day. I have decided that I officially hate weddings, especially big dramatic productions with elaborate events and celebrations. I didn't really enjoy my own wedding for precisely that reason, and if I ever do it again it'll be a simple nikah in a mosque, an intimate valima for family and friends, and that's it. Sab log apne apne ghar jao, the way you're supposed to Islamically. It seems bizarre to me that we spend so much time, energy, money and emotions for a life-changing thing that, actually, isn't always a barrel of laughs and a bed of roses, and all those other euphemisms for ease. Marriage is hard work. It's a serious endeavor. Let's not misrepresent and forget the gravity of this life-changing event by getting engrossed in $8,000 flower centerpieces, stupid cultural traditions and vats of butter chicken.
Yes I know, it's a glass-half-empty day today. Well. Tough.
Toronto was OK. The wedding stopped being fun after the first day. I have decided that I officially hate weddings, especially big dramatic productions with elaborate events and celebrations. I didn't really enjoy my own wedding for precisely that reason, and if I ever do it again it'll be a simple nikah in a mosque, an intimate valima for family and friends, and that's it. Sab log apne apne ghar jao, the way you're supposed to Islamically. It seems bizarre to me that we spend so much time, energy, money and emotions for a life-changing thing that, actually, isn't always a barrel of laughs and a bed of roses, and all those other euphemisms for ease. Marriage is hard work. It's a serious endeavor. Let's not misrepresent and forget the gravity of this life-changing event by getting engrossed in $8,000 flower centerpieces, stupid cultural traditions and vats of butter chicken.
Yes I know, it's a glass-half-empty day today. Well. Tough.
April 2, 2008
November 20, 2007
Seasonal Affective Disorder?
No. This isn't S.A.D. I am officially sick of people. People suck. People have issues and you have to walk on eggshells and be careful around them, and you just can't be you and eventually you forget who you were in the first place before all this shit happened.
I am sick; sick of people who are weak and non-ballsy, and people who get hurt and offended, and people who defend these stupid sensitive people.
I am tired; of being surrounded by people in pain, of internalizing their suffering and trying to make a difference because I am a small measly human being and have no power over anything.
I am sick of all this negative energy, annoying people, mundane life and crappy weather. I am just really, really FED UP.
I am sick; sick of people who are weak and non-ballsy, and people who get hurt and offended, and people who defend these stupid sensitive people.
I am tired; of being surrounded by people in pain, of internalizing their suffering and trying to make a difference because I am a small measly human being and have no power over anything.
I am sick of all this negative energy, annoying people, mundane life and crappy weather. I am just really, really FED UP.
June 28, 2007
Big Bigots
I was reading "C" - a California magazine about how great California is - and in particular, a story about how it could really be called a nation state because of the size of it's economy and it's influence around the world.
All was well.. I was enjoying the pix of Arnold with Tony Blair and the snazzy pic of a fake California passport.. until I read this sentence that left me slack-jawed:
"Hollywood's dream factory dictates which films are enjoyed in almost every non-Muslim place from Moscow to Hong Kong."
On behalf of every Muslim I know, I politely offer the following rebuttal: "WTF???"
Where the hell does this magazine get its balls, I ask? It's a fashion, lifestyle magazine catering to people with Household Incomes $200K+. There's not supposed to be a (bigoted) political stance behind a rag that caters to mindless celebrities looking for the next place to drop a $1,000 on a handbag!
The author could just as well as left out non-Muslim and made the exact same point about the influence of Hollywood, only now I'm pissed and will not finish the article and am tempted to never recommend it to a client for their media plan and make sure they never get any business ever again!
Disgusting, I tell you.
All was well.. I was enjoying the pix of Arnold with Tony Blair and the snazzy pic of a fake California passport.. until I read this sentence that left me slack-jawed:
"Hollywood's dream factory dictates which films are enjoyed in almost every non-Muslim place from Moscow to Hong Kong."
On behalf of every Muslim I know, I politely offer the following rebuttal: "WTF???"
Where the hell does this magazine get its balls, I ask? It's a fashion, lifestyle magazine catering to people with Household Incomes $200K+. There's not supposed to be a (bigoted) political stance behind a rag that caters to mindless celebrities looking for the next place to drop a $1,000 on a handbag!
The author could just as well as left out non-Muslim and made the exact same point about the influence of Hollywood, only now I'm pissed and will not finish the article and am tempted to never recommend it to a client for their media plan and make sure they never get any business ever again!
Disgusting, I tell you.
June 6, 2007
Sorry for the silence..
We were away for 10 days in the UK enjoying time with friends and family and got back a few days ago. Must admit I felt quite depressed on the way back, since it was so nice to be on vacation instead of sitting at home, well, on a different kind of vacation I suppose. *sigh*
We went to Liverpool and met my sister-in-law's new baby, i.e. my 3 month old niece Zainab, who is an unbelievable cutie-pie and who I am missing way too much to be normal. Hmm. Must be those maternal instincts on high alert. Will not put up a pic for fear of predators but ask me privately, and will be happy to share :-D
Also got a chance to actually physically connect with my sister-in-law and her husband for the first time since I've gotten married since we were all in the same place and not rushing about doing things. It's a great feeling to discover more people that you can like and love in your family!
After 4 days in Liverpool, we headed off to London to visit my older sister and also spend a day with my other sibling and brother in law who would be stopping in on their way to Rome for their honeymoon.
Sarwar and I spend a whole day exploring the sights in central London; I tried to be as cooperative as possible but my allergies were still on a roll and when he suggested we climb 22 storeys up to the top of St. Paul's Cathedral on dusty, narrow, winding stairs with no windows I said, no thanks!
I stopped at the first level of the climb at the Whispering Gallery (if you whisper into the wall, it can be heard through the wall at the other side of the Cathedral - its really cool) and he continued to the top and got amazing views of London, like this:
We met with friends and had dinner at this interesting place called Sitaaray in Drury Lane (no, there was no Muffin Man although I sang his song and looked for him for hours), with a fixed price Indian tapas-type menu and a Bollywood-inspired theme. Recommend the place for really good kebabs!
In addition, watched Pirates of the Caribbean 3 - which thankfully was not as disappointing as #2, although you had to pay very close attention if you didn't want to get lost and confused by the constantly changing alliances and rapidly moving plot of almost-treachery and quick-thinking that, I suppose, is natural in the pirate world.
And then it was back to Liverpool, and then back to Manchester in order to come back to Newark and then back to Boston.
Only the idiotic Frenchman checking us in at Manchester deserves a paragraph, nay an entire blogpost, all to himself.
We arrived at the airport about 1 hour and 15 minutes prior to flight time, which I admit is cutting it a little close, but come on.. it's not entirely reckless when its a 9:25 am flight.
They nicely sent us to the front of the check in line since our flight was coming up, but before we checked in this Frenchman decided to look at our passports and paperwork - which is fine and pretty normal. Except instead of the usual 1 minute cursory glance at paperwork that we've experienced at every other airport, he ends up taking FORTY-FIVE minutes to do it!
He scans our passports in some nifty machine, finds them machine un-readeable, shuffles around asking 4 different supervisors about what he should do, and in the meantime treats us like we're bloody terrorists because we hold Indian and Pakistani passports (which he can't seem to read despite being in clear English.. why? because he's an ass) and my Green card says I was born in the UAE.
Big fat hairy deal right? Nooo... after 30 minutes of us just standing and waiting and being treated like we carry the plague, this guy comes over and starts asking us questions:
- was I born in the UAE, why, when was the last time we were in Dubai, why, who we were visiting, why, please write down their address and phone number, do you work in the US, where, please give me your business card, write down the name and address and phone number of where you work and colleagues we can contact, where were you were staying in the UK, why, for how long -
and all of this to be written down on some random scrap of paper with a pencil he was able to fish out of the small desk he works on. Not even some legal-looking form that proves he's legally authorized to ask these questions!
45 bloody minutes! Thankfully they re-opened our flight, checked us in, sent us through the Fast Track of security (where I was *still* body searched by "random" selection) and we managed to make it to our gate where boarding had already begun.
This is just utterly ridiculous! We are law-abiding, tax-paying residents of the United States who have worked hard and used only the most legal means get where we are, and we deserve just a little bit more than an ounce of respect if we travel outside the country!
Mind you, when we got back to the U.S., as usual, our stint at the immigration desk lasted an uneventful 2 minutes and we were, as usual, let back easily into the country. What the hell is the UK's bloody problem? I've never had this much trouble getting into the U.S. even when I was actually coming back from that "hotbed of international terrorism" (please note my huge *eyeroll* here) Dubai.
It irks me that despite working so hard to get resident status, and eventually American citizenships, we will always be treated like potential threats because we were born in certain places and lived in certain countries. How come no one treats everyone who lives and was born in Oklahoma with a suspicious eye? What if that person went to school with Timothy McVeigh and is a potential city blower-upper?
And by the way, every foiled plot in the last few years has revealed home-grown terrorists - disenchanted, disaffected, angry young Americans and Brits who have lived their whole lives in these nations, who have an utter disrespect for the freedoms they have enjoyed in the very countries they wish to harm, and who have a disgusting disregard for life that is unrelated to the teachings of any religion.
What have we done to be racially profiled just because of our nationalities? We stand behind yellow lines before being asked to come forward at counters; we turn our wheels towards the curb when parking downhill; we pay 15-20% tips at restaurants because we know the waitstaff is barely making minimum wage; we pay our taxes and get our returns back in bloody January; we pay off our credit cards each month and don't let any balance gather interest. We do not shoplift, rob, kill, take advantage of or swindle anyone and we certainly are not involved in any plots to cause harm to this or any other bloody western racial profiling country! So enough of it already!
*pant pant pant*
Ok. I'm done for now. You can see this gets me riled up. I probably wasn't helping matters at Manchester Airport since my glowering expression likely aroused more suspicion and ire than my passport, but hey - no way is this MY fault. Bloody Frenchman.
Anyway, just wanted to say - I'm back.
We went to Liverpool and met my sister-in-law's new baby, i.e. my 3 month old niece Zainab, who is an unbelievable cutie-pie and who I am missing way too much to be normal. Hmm. Must be those maternal instincts on high alert. Will not put up a pic for fear of predators but ask me privately, and will be happy to share :-D
Also got a chance to actually physically connect with my sister-in-law and her husband for the first time since I've gotten married since we were all in the same place and not rushing about doing things. It's a great feeling to discover more people that you can like and love in your family!
After 4 days in Liverpool, we headed off to London to visit my older sister and also spend a day with my other sibling and brother in law who would be stopping in on their way to Rome for their honeymoon.
Sarwar and I spend a whole day exploring the sights in central London; I tried to be as cooperative as possible but my allergies were still on a roll and when he suggested we climb 22 storeys up to the top of St. Paul's Cathedral on dusty, narrow, winding stairs with no windows I said, no thanks!
I stopped at the first level of the climb at the Whispering Gallery (if you whisper into the wall, it can be heard through the wall at the other side of the Cathedral - its really cool) and he continued to the top and got amazing views of London, like this:
We met with friends and had dinner at this interesting place called Sitaaray in Drury Lane (no, there was no Muffin Man although I sang his song and looked for him for hours), with a fixed price Indian tapas-type menu and a Bollywood-inspired theme. Recommend the place for really good kebabs!
In addition, watched Pirates of the Caribbean 3 - which thankfully was not as disappointing as #2, although you had to pay very close attention if you didn't want to get lost and confused by the constantly changing alliances and rapidly moving plot of almost-treachery and quick-thinking that, I suppose, is natural in the pirate world.
And then it was back to Liverpool, and then back to Manchester in order to come back to Newark and then back to Boston.
Only the idiotic Frenchman checking us in at Manchester deserves a paragraph, nay an entire blogpost, all to himself.
We arrived at the airport about 1 hour and 15 minutes prior to flight time, which I admit is cutting it a little close, but come on.. it's not entirely reckless when its a 9:25 am flight.
They nicely sent us to the front of the check in line since our flight was coming up, but before we checked in this Frenchman decided to look at our passports and paperwork - which is fine and pretty normal. Except instead of the usual 1 minute cursory glance at paperwork that we've experienced at every other airport, he ends up taking FORTY-FIVE minutes to do it!
He scans our passports in some nifty machine, finds them machine un-readeable, shuffles around asking 4 different supervisors about what he should do, and in the meantime treats us like we're bloody terrorists because we hold Indian and Pakistani passports (which he can't seem to read despite being in clear English.. why? because he's an ass) and my Green card says I was born in the UAE.
Big fat hairy deal right? Nooo... after 30 minutes of us just standing and waiting and being treated like we carry the plague, this guy comes over and starts asking us questions:
- was I born in the UAE, why, when was the last time we were in Dubai, why, who we were visiting, why, please write down their address and phone number, do you work in the US, where, please give me your business card, write down the name and address and phone number of where you work and colleagues we can contact, where were you were staying in the UK, why, for how long -
and all of this to be written down on some random scrap of paper with a pencil he was able to fish out of the small desk he works on. Not even some legal-looking form that proves he's legally authorized to ask these questions!
45 bloody minutes! Thankfully they re-opened our flight, checked us in, sent us through the Fast Track of security (where I was *still* body searched by "random" selection) and we managed to make it to our gate where boarding had already begun.
This is just utterly ridiculous! We are law-abiding, tax-paying residents of the United States who have worked hard and used only the most legal means get where we are, and we deserve just a little bit more than an ounce of respect if we travel outside the country!
Mind you, when we got back to the U.S., as usual, our stint at the immigration desk lasted an uneventful 2 minutes and we were, as usual, let back easily into the country. What the hell is the UK's bloody problem? I've never had this much trouble getting into the U.S. even when I was actually coming back from that "hotbed of international terrorism" (please note my huge *eyeroll* here) Dubai.
It irks me that despite working so hard to get resident status, and eventually American citizenships, we will always be treated like potential threats because we were born in certain places and lived in certain countries. How come no one treats everyone who lives and was born in Oklahoma with a suspicious eye? What if that person went to school with Timothy McVeigh and is a potential city blower-upper?
And by the way, every foiled plot in the last few years has revealed home-grown terrorists - disenchanted, disaffected, angry young Americans and Brits who have lived their whole lives in these nations, who have an utter disrespect for the freedoms they have enjoyed in the very countries they wish to harm, and who have a disgusting disregard for life that is unrelated to the teachings of any religion.
What have we done to be racially profiled just because of our nationalities? We stand behind yellow lines before being asked to come forward at counters; we turn our wheels towards the curb when parking downhill; we pay 15-20% tips at restaurants because we know the waitstaff is barely making minimum wage; we pay our taxes and get our returns back in bloody January; we pay off our credit cards each month and don't let any balance gather interest. We do not shoplift, rob, kill, take advantage of or swindle anyone and we certainly are not involved in any plots to cause harm to this or any other bloody western racial profiling country! So enough of it already!
*pant pant pant*
Ok. I'm done for now. You can see this gets me riled up. I probably wasn't helping matters at Manchester Airport since my glowering expression likely aroused more suspicion and ire than my passport, but hey - no way is this MY fault. Bloody Frenchman.
Anyway, just wanted to say - I'm back.
May 6, 2007
Affirmation
I am capable of hate.
I am capable of praying hard for a person to die, so that everyone can find some peace when that person is gone.
God's indifference is beginning to piss me off. How long am I supposed to believe that everything happens for the best?
The real reason I want to have children so that I can undo all the shit and damage I've suffered at the hands of bad parenting. Yes, it's true - I'm selfish, and my kids are going to be projects. I'll tell them this when they're old enough to understand.
And in general, I am really sick of cowardly, lazy, selfish, arrogant and untruthful people who refuse to grow up.
I am capable of praying hard for a person to die, so that everyone can find some peace when that person is gone.
God's indifference is beginning to piss me off. How long am I supposed to believe that everything happens for the best?
The real reason I want to have children so that I can undo all the shit and damage I've suffered at the hands of bad parenting. Yes, it's true - I'm selfish, and my kids are going to be projects. I'll tell them this when they're old enough to understand.
And in general, I am really sick of cowardly, lazy, selfish, arrogant and untruthful people who refuse to grow up.
April 4, 2007
Down with the Crazies
So I'm watching and following American Idol very very closely this season..
Yesterday was Tony Bennett night, and as usual the worst performance was by Sanjaya Malakar.
Each week, I wait with bated breath to see if America will have come to its senses and knocked this poor excuse for a singer off the show, but alas it seems like people care less about the talent and more about the freakshow personality that he's become. He seems to enjoy his new found celebrity, trying out bizarre hairstyles each week, arguing with the judges like a 5-year old and continuing to look shocked each time he is not eliminated.
Howard Stern and VoteForTheWorst.com aren't helping either, as they goad their followers to vote for.. well.. the worst. The judges, including acerbic Simon Cowell, have resigned themselves to laughing uncomfortably at the end of his performances and avoiding all comments about his vocals because it's just too shockingly bad to bear and they're probably kicking themselves about why on earth they let him on stage in the first place.
So, back to last night. After watching all the swing-themed performances, of which Sanjaya was predictably the worst, I found myself saying: "It's definitely going to be Phil Stacey who gets knocked out next".
And then I paused and realized the sad, sad situation that we all end up in as a result of a broken system. We become so apathetic and disillusioned by the logic-defying trend, that we don't even consider the fact sanity could prevail and Sanjaya could be knocked out. We're so convinced of the stupidity of the nation that we've chosen to even stop expecting rationality to kick in.
And this is just 4 weeks on a reality TV show. No wonder countries and whole populations can't pull themselves out of deadly ruts of terror and depression and bad leadership. We've just become used to settling for less.
Anyhoo - assuming Sanjaya stays, I think that beginning next week I'm actually going to pick up the phone and call in to vote. Sitting around on my butt expecting America to wake up clearly hasn't worked, so I'm going to use my democratic right to, if anything, give one less vote to Sanjaya. 'Cos if I don't speak up, I'm part of the problem, right?
Yesterday was Tony Bennett night, and as usual the worst performance was by Sanjaya Malakar.
If you've been even slightly awake during the last month, you've definitely 
heard of the 17 year old, half-Indian half-American, sexually-dubious creature who cannot sing, knows it, yet still continues to remain on the show for inexplicable reasons that may include the entire South Asian population of the US voting for him out of some twisted solidarity (yes, lets endorse him and prove South Asians can't sing) and little girls between the ages of 9 and 12 who, frankly, will always vote for the youngest contestant because he's closest to them in age and they can have gooey dreams about him.
heard of the 17 year old, half-Indian half-American, sexually-dubious creature who cannot sing, knows it, yet still continues to remain on the show for inexplicable reasons that may include the entire South Asian population of the US voting for him out of some twisted solidarity (yes, lets endorse him and prove South Asians can't sing) and little girls between the ages of 9 and 12 who, frankly, will always vote for the youngest contestant because he's closest to them in age and they can have gooey dreams about him.Each week, I wait with bated breath to see if America will have come to its senses and knocked this poor excuse for a singer off the show, but alas it seems like people care less about the talent and more about the freakshow personality that he's become. He seems to enjoy his new found celebrity, trying out bizarre hairstyles each week, arguing with the judges like a 5-year old and continuing to look shocked each time he is not eliminated.
Howard Stern and VoteForTheWorst.com aren't helping either, as they goad their followers to vote for.. well.. the worst. The judges, including acerbic Simon Cowell, have resigned themselves to laughing uncomfortably at the end of his performances and avoiding all comments about his vocals because it's just too shockingly bad to bear and they're probably kicking themselves about why on earth they let him on stage in the first place.
So, back to last night. After watching all the swing-themed performances, of which Sanjaya was predictably the worst, I found myself saying: "It's definitely going to be Phil Stacey who gets knocked out next".
And then I paused and realized the sad, sad situation that we all end up in as a result of a broken system. We become so apathetic and disillusioned by the logic-defying trend, that we don't even consider the fact sanity could prevail and Sanjaya could be knocked out. We're so convinced of the stupidity of the nation that we've chosen to even stop expecting rationality to kick in.
And this is just 4 weeks on a reality TV show. No wonder countries and whole populations can't pull themselves out of deadly ruts of terror and depression and bad leadership. We've just become used to settling for less.
Anyhoo - assuming Sanjaya stays, I think that beginning next week I'm actually going to pick up the phone and call in to vote. Sitting around on my butt expecting America to wake up clearly hasn't worked, so I'm going to use my democratic right to, if anything, give one less vote to Sanjaya. 'Cos if I don't speak up, I'm part of the problem, right?
March 26, 2007
Finally, Home.
Well, technically.
After two weeks in Toronto, I'm now back in Boston. Both different types of home, and given the loneliness and quiet of Beantown, I'm currently missing the real one quite a bit.
Achieved many things in the past two weeks.
Finally finished reading Jennifer Weiner's "The Guy Not Taken" collection of short stories, which were all very good but after a while being so deep inside the minds of so many women got kinda boring.
India and Pakistan both got unceremoniously kicked out of the World Cup by nascent teams, amid the scandalous murder of the Pakistani coach Bob Woolmer.
Met up with an old friend from Ibn Seena for brunch after about 9 years. It was great seeing her and catching up on the news, and gossiping about old times.
Wore a sari for the first time. Took me 90 minutes to get it on (and 4 minutes to take it off) and it was somewhat debilitating due to its weight and style but everyone said I carried it off well, so I suppose it wasn't a complete disaster.
And of course, got my sister married off, despite various seemingly unsurmountable obstacles. Feel a great sense of achievement and relief, yet also a strange sense of loss - as though a new chapter has begun, but an old, much-loved one has also ended. Those who know me well would not be surprised - I don't deal well with change - but one can only pray for the strength to adjust and accept what is now reality.
The wedding was, as all weddings are, quite hectic, full of unnecessarily difficult decisions, rows over petty things and multiple dashes to Wal-Mart. But essentially it went off pretty smoothly, much better than I expected. Would like to say that I, as wedding planner, had much to do with it but of course, it was all the grace and mercy of God that made it all that it was.
And now I'm back to my quiet and empty life, but endowed with a renewed sense of vigor and purpose, determind to get my life back on track and go all out to finally get employed.
So excuse me while I go email resumes and cover letters to The Via Group and Beehive Media, and remind myself of why I do NOT suck and WILL get a job in the next 4 weeks.
After two weeks in Toronto, I'm now back in Boston. Both different types of home, and given the loneliness and quiet of Beantown, I'm currently missing the real one quite a bit.
Achieved many things in the past two weeks.
Finally finished reading Jennifer Weiner's "The Guy Not Taken" collection of short stories, which were all very good but after a while being so deep inside the minds of so many women got kinda boring.
India and Pakistan both got unceremoniously kicked out of the World Cup by nascent teams, amid the scandalous murder of the Pakistani coach Bob Woolmer.
Met up with an old friend from Ibn Seena for brunch after about 9 years. It was great seeing her and catching up on the news, and gossiping about old times.
Wore a sari for the first time. Took me 90 minutes to get it on (and 4 minutes to take it off) and it was somewhat debilitating due to its weight and style but everyone said I carried it off well, so I suppose it wasn't a complete disaster.
And of course, got my sister married off, despite various seemingly unsurmountable obstacles. Feel a great sense of achievement and relief, yet also a strange sense of loss - as though a new chapter has begun, but an old, much-loved one has also ended. Those who know me well would not be surprised - I don't deal well with change - but one can only pray for the strength to adjust and accept what is now reality.
The wedding was, as all weddings are, quite hectic, full of unnecessarily difficult decisions, rows over petty things and multiple dashes to Wal-Mart. But essentially it went off pretty smoothly, much better than I expected. Would like to say that I, as wedding planner, had much to do with it but of course, it was all the grace and mercy of God that made it all that it was.
And now I'm back to my quiet and empty life, but endowed with a renewed sense of vigor and purpose, determind to get my life back on track and go all out to finally get employed.
So excuse me while I go email resumes and cover letters to The Via Group and Beehive Media, and remind myself of why I do NOT suck and WILL get a job in the next 4 weeks.
February 26, 2007
FRUSTRATED
Wake up, wander, wait.
Breakfast, blog.
Shower, dishes.
Clean, launder, cook.
Read, wander, wait.
This is ALL I do.
Yesterday I was sad. I wanted to punch my fist through a window just to see it bleed and feel something beyond this numbness and lethargy.
Today I'm angry. I want to slap someone really hard. In the way that leaves your hand tingling and all your fingers stencilled in red across the other person's face.
I feel worthless, like any smarts or creativity I did have are melting away and I can do nothing to stop it.
I'm sick of stupid agencies and stupid HR and stupid stupid unemployment.
Breakfast, blog.
Shower, dishes.
Clean, launder, cook.
Read, wander, wait.
This is ALL I do.
Yesterday I was sad. I wanted to punch my fist through a window just to see it bleed and feel something beyond this numbness and lethargy.
Today I'm angry. I want to slap someone really hard. In the way that leaves your hand tingling and all your fingers stencilled in red across the other person's face.
I feel worthless, like any smarts or creativity I did have are melting away and I can do nothing to stop it.
I'm sick of stupid agencies and stupid HR and stupid stupid unemployment.
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