Quote of the Day

Random quotes from over the years from different friends and family that I remembered and wrote down with no intent of showing them to the world. And yet, here I am. There's a reason why I like to keep them anonymous.

Part of a longer conversation of randomness
"You can make me paralyzed with amazement just by staring at me with those gorgeous eyes. You could be like Medusa and you wouldn't even have to beat me up.
You can run 9,000 miles. There's no way I'll ever get away. Better to just get beat up by you."

Yet another one with a different friend.
"By the way, you're house is calling me while I'm on the phone with you. Care to explain?"

Theory of Likeability

Of my three closest guy friends, one is what I like to call the funny asshole. He’s blunt but funny. More often than not, what comes out of his mouth are the truths that most don’t want to acknowledge, even if it’s what everyone else is thinking. This is what I call A___’s theory of likeability aka how to get people to like you. This started off as a random daily conversation and then morphed into a value added lesson. I take no credit for the following. 

 “One thing that I find works: if you want someone to like you, ask them to do little things for you. Gradually increase the things you ask for. Just start with something small, like ‘Pick that up for me’ or ‘could you give me a ride here if it’s on your way.’ Then you give them a biscuit with gratitude and a little charm.”

Note: metaphorical biscuit, not actual.

“There’s a second part to this. When you ask people to do stuff for you, sometimes you got to do nice things, like buy them ice cream when they least expect it. Coffee, pick up a cheap lunch. We call this ADDED VALUE. Thank you's that actually come off as really thoughtful yet inexpensive. Then before you know it, you got someone taking your notes for you! And all you got them was a Jr Bacon in return! I’m telling you try it! Works with boys and girls!”

Family Moments

My parents have a strange sense of humor that only they seem to understand. One night while the brothers were out, I'm sitting in the living room talking to them, when suddenly my mom asks my dad point blank, "Do you love me?"
He says all nonchalantly, "No."
They continue to stare at each other, while a smile grows on both their faces. Before long, they burst out laughing, leaving me totally confused.


My brothers are telling me how we have a Ferrari and Bentley dealership in Alpharetta, AKA Suburbia, when my mom says, "I saw a Maserati a few days ago when I was driving somewhere with your dad."
Me: "You know the difference between a Ferrari and a Maserati?!"
Mom: "Duh . . ."
Some days, I feel so behind.


More about my rather random mother . . .
I went to a EDM festival called TomorrowWorld in Georgia the year it started. I was showing her the trailer, when she asks, "Can I come with you??"
Surprisingly, imagining my mother at an EDM festival wasn't the craziest idea, and for a short moment in time, I actually considered it.

Parental Moment
When we went out to dinner with the family for my birthday, I forgot my ID, so my parents got me the drink I wanted. After a drink (a few), the parentals got tipsy and the following conversation ensued.
Parents: You're lucky you got us for parents.
Me: How so?
Parents: What other parents buy their daughter alcohol? No one! We're so cool!
Me: Um . . . no.
Parents: Yes, we are.
Me: Buying your kid a drink is normal. I know parents who do that. You guys aren't special.
Parents: . . .
Me: My friend's mom bought her beer at the liquor store and she's Indian.
Parents: . . . well, at least we have class. We didn't buy you cheap stuff like beer.
They always have to have the last word.

Indian Kid Problems #1

There are certain things in life only kids raised by immigrant parents will ever really get. I was born and raised in the US by Indian immigrants. Here are a few stereotypes/issues that every 1st generation kid can understand.

Gossip
I could go on for hours on this topic, but an example will have to do. Last month, I went to my cousin's wedding. The day after the wedding, I went over to my aunt and uncle's hotel room to where a group of the parents were. I went mainly to go play with the kids. While I'm playing with my younger cousins, I start the parents start bitching about who they got stuck sitting with at the wedding. Who did this, who was being rude, how rude they are, and how they have no class, et cetera, et cetera. That is just the tip of the iceberg. It hasn't even been a full 24 hours and the gossip has begun.
There's a stereotype among our generation that goes a little like this: you go to someone's house and everyone is nice to each other. The minute you leave, they start talking about you. Your car has barely left the driveway when they start in on you. I've been privy to this more than once. As a friend once put it, "Some aunties need to be hired by TMZ. At least they'll make some money off of all the gossip they got. They'd never go out of business!" Ensuing eye roll . . .

2-20 are in the works.

More to come . . .

Black Doos

So I've been recently inspired to write even though I really don't have the time, really really don't. But, my conversations with a friend have reminded me how much I love this. I haven't abandoned this blog. I've just been putting it off, thanks to grad school, exams, etc. Luckily, grad school is now over. I still have boards to take, that I'm in the process of studying for, but as soon as that's over, I'm getting back to this. I have quite a few stories to write and complete. But since I don't have time for a full length story, I'll stick to something small.

My family is far from politically correct. We're racist for sure, but then again, so is everyone else for that matter. Don't try to argue that. We all have our biases and prejudices, whether we acknowledge them or not. One day, my youngest brother was wearing his shorts, which hung pretty low. They were low enough that you could see his boxers, not intentional of course, but that's not how my dad saw it. My dad has a very strong Indian accent, which he refuses to fix. It can cause all kinds of trouble, like the following.

My father, upon seeing my brother's boxers, became really angry. You could see the anger on his face. He says to my brother, "Are you trying to be black doos?!"
Obviously, we're all a little confused by what he's saying.
"A black what?!"
"A black doos!!"
I still don't understand, but my mother did, based on her sudden laughter.
"Black dude, not black doos!"


Everyone breaks out laughing, even my accidentally funny dad.