The DysFUNctionalest Babyshower Ever

Well, Standish (I guess nearly a year and a half after her join date, I may as well give New Girl a name) is going to have another baby and I’ve got my eye set on having a hiply dreary babyshower for her. I say hiply dreary, because any function attended by government employees is by definition dreary, but it’s going to be hiply dreary by our wry self-referential recognition of the industry-rejectness of our status. I might even put up a congratulations banner made out of printer sheets or something. I think for the occasion we might all dress in grey and festoon ourselves with grey party hats. I’ll bake grey cupcakes and the whole event will be a meta-commentary-both on the eclectic despondence of workers in the federal sector, as well as our status as the Fed’s greybiest agency (in ref. to the greyby boom). Each grey cupcake will have a maraschino cherry in the middle-to show that out of the hoariest of husks springs the hope of new life and latent fecundity.  

Standish seemed taken quite taken aback by my enthusiasm for throwing her The Worst Babyshower Ever (and expressed some emotion at the word “hoary” which I was throwing about quite liberally), but agreed that the event held promise, as a piece of subtle performance art as well as the source of an Amazon gift certificate.

Standish is quite early on in the pregnancy, which leads me to wonder. In which quadmester is it most appropriate to throw someone an Awful Babyshower? Please advise.

 

Sage Advice Friday

You guys, some really nice person named Shmutzie added me to Five Star Friday. How lovely of her!

Incidentally, I believe Average Jane once gave me something called an Alltop Award.

I know the protocol is to stick a cunning little badge in a corner of your blog identifying the awarding website-unfortunately, I am rather lost when it comes to this blog template business. I remember back on my first blogger blog in ‘04 (My Very Own Personality Disorder)  I had to take a weeklong vacation after I figured out how to add links in the sidebar.

Anyway, thank you Schmutzie. I appreciate the linking love.

For the record, she linked to the post on sex selection of Asian babies in the United States.

You know, honestly, I thought if I were ever to be honored for one of these things it would have been the post about how someone tried to kill me via brazilian bikini wassing, or about how I was lured into drinking anal swill beverage, kombucha. I guess I should go clear up the typos in the featured post at some point.

Alright, let’s get back to the title of this post. I want to introduce a feature I’m going to call, Sage Advice Friday. It’s basically me sharing my genius with the internet. Please note that I am not a professional advice giver. I’m barely qualified to wipe my cat’s own butt, which I’m occasionally called to do when he mysteriously contracts worms (in spite of life as an indoor cat). The advice I deliver on this blog should not be considered as legal advice-none of it concerns the law, for one thing, and furthermore, no attorney-client relationship exists between you, creepy Googler/long time reader, and me, stumpy little trollwoman. I do not assume, and in fact, I fervently disavow any fallout occurring as a result of reliance Sage Advice Friday. The “Sage” in Sage Advice Friday refers partially to the perennial European mint, salvia officinalis, and partially to the colour you may turn upon reading Sage Advice Friday. The author quitclaims all ties to the word “Sage” as referring to sound advice. Terms and conditions apply, please bite my butt on the way out.

Onward!

European Perennial Mint Advice Friday #1: What Every College Bound Hussy Should Know.

Everyone always laments growing older without considering all the privileges and advantages they had as a result of being younger in a prior pop cultural technological epoch. Stop b*tching about the setting sun of your heyheydays and take a moment to reflect on what you did have back then. For instance, Clarence Thomas might consider thanking his lucky stars for being a lech before the advent of sexual harrassment laws.  “I may be old now, but at least I still enjoyed my Constitutional right to tweak my paralegal’s nipple!”

I, for one, am quite content to be the age that I am. There are many reasons to feel this way, but I’ll share the most important one with you right here, right now. People over the age of 30 were mostly able to binge drink with impunity.

There were fewer digital cameras and they were kind of large and clunky and you didn’t take them everywhere. Cell phones were just coming into widespread use and there were no “smart phones” with video/camera capabilities, easily whipped out record to record your early a.m. vomiting behind the alley of a cheesy goth dance club. And the internet was still back in the 1.0 phase-you know, before Google, when Alta Vista and Lycos were battling it out, Scamazon hadn’t purchased every independent internet retailer on the web and there were no Twitter-Friendster-Myspace-Facebook for you or your friends to document every sneeze, fart and personal crisis that came your way.

I’m not saying it was a better time overall. I’m just saying it was a better time to get completely wasted without worrying over whether your beery mug and incoherent alcohol saturated e-logues were going to end up being googled by Yon Headehuntre through your Facebook-Twitter-Myspace-Friendster page.

Which is something I think every parent should clearly communicate to their college bound kid-that before we have a major cultural shift wherein public discovery of one’s alcohol-soused indiscretions becomes a social whatever, young adults with easy access to alcoholic and other forms of intoxicants ought to think very carefully about whether or not they really want to, or need to get in on the social media action. I mean, unless you’re planning for a career in sleepy eyed alcoholism, in which case, microblog away about your love affair with ’Nilla Stoli! 

I’m sorry Generation Y. You’re going to have to find some other way to rebel. Maybe you could be Amish.

 

I bet a prayer breakfast was held…

…by GOP leadership invoking the Almighty that it would be a girl, not a guy.

I am amazed by the stats on my last post.

I am, in fact, working on Part II. It’s extra-inflammatory so I’m working on it slowly. I’ve been reading a lot of Sandra Tsing Loh lately and I’ve been chuckling over how funny her imagery is-while she is a far superior writer, I think one thing we have in common is a talent for really funny imagery so I’m trying to actually polish it up and make it amusing rather than throwing something up there.

I just want to clarify that that I am not trying to make a point that divorces/divorcees are bad, evil or morally bankrupt. Most of my ire is at so-called relationship experts, actually. OTOH, the never ending stream of bad relationship news (and I don’t mean your divorce…but headline grabbing stuff and some of the situations I’ve been personally exposed to) has basically served to make me a fairly fearful person. I’m also slightly baffled by how I ended up with my sense of morality-I’m the bad one in the family! Am I the last person left on earth who can honestly claim that she wouldn’t cheat under any circumstances? Because I assure you that I am not “deluding” myself on that front. I don’t even effing cheat on my taxes or 7th grade geography tests and the thought of causing someone that type of pain actually physically causes my heart to clench.

Recently I told my parents that imbuing me with a sense of responsibility in terms of ethics and morality and responsibility towards other human beings had done nothing except hold me back professionally. I think I’d probably be happier as a backstabbing, pathologically lying, morally bankrupt, megalomaniacal, money hungry, emotional f*ckwit. From my experience they are quite complacent and unaffected by the drama they create in other people’s lives. Witness, flying off to snuggle your mistress on Father’s Day.

Something exotic, indeed.

 

Part I: Relax, it’s just that you’re doomed.

If the Atlantic Monthly (and most modern media) is to be believed, love and marriage are just one big crapshoot where the majority of participants are miserable and the entire enterprise is doomed to fail. As an American, nay, as an American woman, it seems you are basically entitled to play your hand, but with all the stats riding against you, you may as well settle for whatever you can manage to get, bearing in mind that one day you too will be a statistic.

The decline of marriage, and even love in general, seems to me, to be  evident everywhere. Divorce and tales of love gone awry saturate media outlets. It’s in the well established newspapers, in the stuffy periodicals, and of course it’s in the tabloids. JEN AND BRAD! ANGIE AND BRAD! BRAD AND BRAD! IS IT TOO LATE FOR JON AND KATE? IS IT JON AND KATE AND HATE? SPEIDI SEPARATES! TOMKAT AT AN END! LILO AND SAM FINISHED! I can’t even f*cking check out what Beyonce and the other Hollywood fatties are wearing in US Weekly without being subjected to tearful ruminations on the end of very deep relationships based on a mutual love of cocaine and bulimia.    

 Ever loving f*ck, it’s even in tearful separation/divorce announcements on blogs (something I have more or less avoided on my own blog by giving myself the “out” of never having been married). Everyone, everywhere seems to be separating, falling aparting and divorcing. And everyone, everywhere seems reasonably certain that one day, at one point, you’ll be doing it too.

Can you imagine what’s going to happen if the Obamas’ marriage falls apart? I’m pretty certain they’re the only thing holding the fabric of our country’s collective love lives together.  

Anyway, I am on Relationship Death Overload, which is like Social Networking Overload, except it concerns having to hear about everyone else’s trial separation. And let  me tell you, it is scaring my sphincter straight up into my gullet. Is it any wonder I want to crawl under the sheets, put my love life on permanent pause and go to bed till I hit menopause? The very thought of marriage, or hell, a relationship, makes me want to pop a kegger of anti-anxiety medications and book the first non-Air France flight out to a remote nunnery.   

Oh, and the theories. Let’s not forget the theories. Just like everyone everywhere seems to be certain that you’ll be riding your connubial handbasket straight to divorce court, everyone everywhere knows exactly what did you/them/everyone in (or will do you in) and they want to tell you about it. For what purpose, I still can’t comprehend. Maybe so you’ll be ever vigilant against The End (my friend), make reasonable accomodations and manage to delay the inevitable by 7.5 years and .5 children. Or maybe to give you a sense of comfort as you ponder the blood on the tracks. Either way, people want you to know and I’ve been anxiously (and neurotically) reading ALL ABOUT IT.

There are two separate camps in the permanent relationship estrangement theory. I describe these separately as a 1) Women Not Knowing Their Place and 2) Instrinsic Institutional Weaknesses. Conservatives and shrill talk radio talk show hosts tend to cling to the first while Feminists, Liberals and Tv talk show hosts tend to cluster around the latter.

They both come to the same conclusion. You’re f*cked.

Coming Up:

Part II: Across the Camps. What everyone has to say about why you should be saving up a nest egg for a good divorce lawyer.

 

So You Think Can Dance Gets Desi Fever

Well, they got on the Bollywood choreography train last year and tonight we had kathak! I’d also like to see other international dancers come on as the special guests. African styles of dance, bharat natyam…hey, maybe we could even get some capoeira going. Better than the terrible musical guests they have on the show.

Addendums:

1) Ugh to tossing off the best ballroom dancers and a versatile guy with good partnering skills.

2) More Shane Sparks! Too bad the contemps don’t do his routines much justice. I’m hoping he gets the chance to choreograph the Boogie Bots girl at some point.

3) Jason looks like my brother-in-law!

 

And the boys, ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah.

Asians seem to be sex selecting for male children.

I swear, this article made me want to bash my head against a wall. I had to breathe into a paper bag.

I know it’s inevitable and that enclaved practices fade with time-but one of the most annoying things about immigrant communities is their inability to leave their more unsavoury cultural practices back on the mothership (even though they often immigrate under the guise of wanting to escape…unsavoury cultural practices).

What struck me most about this article was the sex-selection doctor’s casual indifference to marketing sex selection procedures at Indians. I believe he says something along the lines of cultures being different and this practice isn’t necessarily harmful. Which….HAHAHAHAHA. How would he know? Has he actually lived in a culture of the Boy as the Anointed One as a female? This is EXACTLY like how Unilever markets skin lightening creams in India under the guise of “well it’s their culture and we don’t know why it’s bad lalalala” while sponsoring sanctimonious Dove “Real Beauty” marketing campaigns in the United States.

From my perspective-here is a small list of the amount of damage this practice inflicts on women. I want to note that my sister and I only caught the tail end of my mother’s desire for a male heir-by the time they had us my mother was so desperate for a child that she didn’t care if either of us was a boy or a girl, though my sister has sometimes struggled with the fact that my mother really wanted her to be a boy. Both of us were well aware of the fact that at a certain point in time, if she could have changed one of us into a boy-she would have done so in a New York minute. And that the rest of our family considered my parents failures for not bringing forth at least one male heir. 

Below I’ve listed asinine and psyche (not to mention physical health) damaging behavious that I’ve observed in my extended family as well as other Indian acquaintances. And keep in mind that my father, at least, hails from a reasonably progressive Indian state/urban community where women have been educated for a very long time (in medicine). I can’t imagine what it must be like in the rural, poor states.   

1) The knowledge that you, as a girl, are worth less to your parents compared to your brother. For the REST OF YOUR LIFE. That you had absolutely no control in this matter-that their adoration of your brother was based on which sperm fertilized the egg at the moment of your conception. They love you less, period. And that even at the end of a long life, if you have done everything for them and the son has p*ssied out on his obligations, they’ll die wishing for him while ignoring you and your contributions. And that no matter WHAT you do, you matter less. Period, finis, end of story.  

Yes, that’s not at ALL harmful to one’s self-esteem, Dr. STFU. I’m sure Dr. STFU would be perfectly happy being the Lesser One for the rest of his life.   

2)  That you deserve less education and fewer resources than your brother. And that in the event that there is only a limited amount of financial resources, the majority of those will be allocated to your brother. You will be fed less food, you will be assigned more chores so that you have less time for academic pursuits and if it’s a choice between your college education and your brother’s education-well, a man need education more than a woman-even if you are SMARTER and could have gone further.

3) That you are not entitled to a penny of your parents’ assets. Your brothers will grow up expecting most, if not all of it, and they will get it too.

4) That your birth was a mistake rectified through the “appropriate means” with your brother’s birth.

5) Watching your sisters get aborted until your parents get the son of their dreams. Knowing that only thing that saved you from the same fate was your status as firstborn.

6) If you chooose to marry withing the community- the risk of being treated like cattle to be inspected by your in-laws. The fact that your marriage is seen as a favour and gift being given to you (even if you are a professional yourself). That even after marriage your “lower” social status puts you at risk for abuse, starvation and murder.

7) That your parents face financial bankruptcy at the time of your marriage.

So seriously-please cut me a break with the “lalalala, what’s so wrong about making money off the silly little immigrant people” attitude. I agree that every family does not treat their daughters as badly as I stated above (and bear in mind that only some of that list pertains to my extended relatives). However, I have personally observed each and every instance I listed above-from the serial aborting to the sending of the sons to college and stiffing the girls. However,  even when there’s some attempt to have evenhandedness with finances, the simple fact that girls know that they are loved less is enormously damaging.

 

Listen to your parents

After spending an hour trying to find a qualified, decent physician who accepts Aetna HMO, I’ve decided that the single f*cking worst decision I made in my life was to ignore my parents’ entreaties to become a doctor.

Second worst decision (that I am still really pissed about)? Allowing my parents to talk me into buying the cheapest of the cheap contact lenses at Walfrock-which led to 2008 being the Year of the Eye Infections. Which ultimately culminated in a chalazion that has been in my eye since February. Fortunately it’s non visible but I can’t wear contacts and at this point I’m sick of waiting for it to go away on its own.

Hence me trying to find a decent doctor for the first time in the four years since I moved here. I’ll admit that I am awful-because of my robust constitution I only go to the doctor once every couple of years for an antibiotic prescription and I make no effort to get a regular exam or a peek and poke or whatever. I also diligently pay my premiums every month (and my taxes, and my credit card bills, and my student loans…when the frock do I get a bailout??) but come time for me to figure out how to get someone to lance my eye NO ONE WITH A DEGREE FROM AN AMERICAN UNIVERSITY IS ACCEPTING MY FROCKING INSURANCE within 5 miles of my house.

You know what? Choices are wasted on the youth, yo. This is the land of high fructose corn syrup and plenty and I can’t find an American educated doctor to save my life. For all my supposed intelligence and high test scores I basically let rebellion against the ‘rents prevent me from getting in on that racket.

Childrens, listen to your desi parents. Medicine, for the win.

PS: When I was deciding between calling up the doctor named “Claire” and the doctor named “Krystyle,” yes CLAIRE was the one I chose. Except she wasn’t accepting patients and Krystyle is nowhere to be found-the info from Aetna goes to the audix of someone named Mindy, online web searches proved to be fruitless. I finally called the major hospital in Pasadena and found 1 physician willing to accept my plan. I am semi-ashamed to admit this but by gum, I plan to give my kids really really dull names like Asha or Susannah.

 

Putting My Money Where My Mouth Is

Baba: Do you know your credit card bill was ridiculously low last month?

Monkey: So? I told you I was cashing up for b-school and saving for my wardrobe in Vietnam and a few last trips*.

Baba: You know, you’re what’s wrong with the economy.

I recently made my first Etsy purchase. I kind of felt I owed it to myself after 7 weeks of studying 10 hours a day on weekends and three hours a day after my 10 hour workday. I really don’t know why I waited so long-I mean, I love the new Coach bag (PS, it’s still in storage, waiting for my first day of b-school-but I am using the wallet) but the truth is that a LOT of people are going to have that bag. How many people have handmade awesome?

End of July Study Present: this necklace.

There’s a lot to be said for big businesses-but there’s a lot to be said for small, locally owned and independent businesses as well. My parents’ favourite nursery, Lexington Gardens, recently went out of business. They are heartbroken. Even though their general M.O. is to think about the bottom line, they were aware that the higher prices charged by LG also meant that they got a) a better selection of plants b) healthier plants c) to talk with other avid horticulturalists rather than a random person who doesn’t care or know anything about plants. There’s a lot to be sad, upset and worried about in this economy-and certainly the attention spent on turmoil in the automotive and the financial sectors was not unjustified. I’m just sad about 2 sectors of the economy that are crippling in front of our eyes and no one seems to know what to do-small businesses that are shutting down because of rising energy costs and competition from prices and the newspaper industry.   

 I hope you’ll join with me in supporting at least one small business or organization a month. For me, it’s a small sacrifice but a worthy one. Besides, it’s so much easier to be snobby about a one-of-a-kind purse!

*Although with the Air France thing don’t think I don’t clench up and have full-on anxiety attacks just THINKING about getting on a plane.

 

Where’s busy bee?

*Stimulus money is hitting. Boggling amounts, obvs, because economically, California has been swirling down a drain. It’s actually kind of stressful because we’re all on notice that the auditing on these funds is going to be pretty hardcore. Having IG agents lurking around makes me paranoid and crazy.

*The Union is keeping me hopping. I am so happy that I decided to take a leadership role with them. I started a committee! I’m now lawyer AND lobbyist. It’s all kinds of crazy. I initially started down this road to build my resume and be exposed to other areas of the law and management-but I’ve started to enjoy the work for itself. Mentos and I are the only ones in our department who are close-ish-everyone else is collegial and amiable but keeps to themselves. My union buds are way more chummy and I’ve gotten to know them better by being part of the negotiating team, asking to start the advocacy committee to lobby Congress etc..

Professional question-do you think potential employers would judge me if I put my union job on my resume/online professional profile? Does “union activist” put off people even if it shows that I got to do really cool things (work as a lobbyist, negotiations, advocacy) that would have built skills that I could transfer to management?

 

Random Questions Meme

Via Average Jane

50 Random Questions

1. What color is your toothbrush?

I tend to get Orange and Blue even though I left Chambana four (!!) years ago (almost to the day, damn).

2. Name one person who made you smile today:

Mentos.

3. What were you doing at 8am this morning?

I was on the train talking to a girl who lives in my apartment building about how I switched my Fall travel plans from Hawaii to India (Rajasthan, Shimla & Dharamshala if anyone is interested). She’s Indian, recently migrated, and finds me fascinating from an anthropological perspective (I think).

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

Working on a series of contracts, reading on the internet and planning my healthcare committee (B-School App stuff is ramping up, y’all).

5. What is your favorite candy bar?

Cadbury’s with Fruit and Nuts.

6. Have you ever been to a strip club?

Yes, a long time ago.

7. What is the last thing you said aloud?

[Insert Agency Name] gave me clearance on that deal so I think I’m going to go ahead and schedule the closing on Monday.

8. What is your favorite ice cream?

Saffron or Mango

9. What was the last thing you had to drink?

PG Tips Tea, which I drink by the gallonful during the workday.

10. Do you like your wallet?

Yes! It’s new.

11 What was the last thing you ate?

A mini mars bar. I feel ill from it, actually.

12. Have you bought any new clothing items this week?

No, and I’ve even quit stalking the Banana Republic website because I decided travelling was more important than clothes and I’m getting a completely new wardrobe next year anyway.

13. The last sporting event you watched?

*blank stare*

14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn?

I don’t like popcorn. I spent most of my adolescence in orthodontics.

15. Who is the last person you sent a text message to?

*blank stare*

16. Ever go camping?

Yes. Not a big fan.

17. Do you take vitamins daily?

Yup.

18. Do you go to church every Sunday?

Nope.

19. Do you have a tan?

I got one in Belize but it’s been fading away. I’m usually a shade or two lighter than I am in California when I live in the Northeast.

20. Do you prefer Chinese food over pizza?

Yes.

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw?

No, straight from the can.

22. What did your last text message say?

*blank stare*

23. What are you doing tomorrow?

Studying. I think I might go see the new Sam Raimi movie with my dad.

25. Look to your left, what do you see?

My phone and a stack of contracts.

26. What color is your watch?

I rarely wear it-but my sister’s in-laws gave me a Coach watch with a maroon/tan logo band and silver watchface during the gift exchange that comprises an Indian wedding.

27. What do you think of when you hear Australia?

Crocodile Dundee, scaling bridges in Sydney, kangaroos, koalas, Outback, Barrier Reef

29. Do you go in at a fast food place or just hit the drive thru?

I don’t really eat fast food except for Zankou Chicken and they do not have a drive through.

30. What is your favorite number?

8

31. Who’s the last person you talked to on the phone?

My boss.

33. How many states have you lived in?

Plenty.

34. Biggest annoyance right now?

I wish it were next year and I was in school already.

35. Last song listened to?

Magdalenha by Sergio Mendez.

36.Can you say the alphabet backwards?

No, I didn’t catch that episode of Sesame Street.

37. Do you have a maid service clean your house?

Yes, twice a month. Paradoxically, it has turned me into a neat freak.

38. Favorite pair of shoes you wear all the time?

Clarks Mary Janes.

39. Are you jealous of anyone?

I use it to motivate myself to change my own life-so it isn’t as much a deep seated envy as a fleeting desire to get what they have.

40. Is anyone jealous of you?

Who knows?

41. Do you love anyone?

Yes.

42. Do any of your friends have children?

I have colleagues with children but a goodly portion of my friends fall into the thirty-something-professionals-who-aren’t-even-married-yet category.

43. What do you usually do during the day?

Discuss the giving away of money.

44. Do you hate anyone that you know right now?

No because I am the ultimate low attention span a-hole-I don’t care enough about other people long enough to really get a good long-term hatred going. I am usually temporarily highly irritated by people but I find that when they exit my life I stop thinking about them entirely.  

45. Do you use the word ‘hello’ daily?

Yes, but my sister and I both pronounce it “hallo” or “hullo”. Also, I pronounce the word pronounce as “PRO-nounce”. It’s possibly the only Canadian inflection I have left.

46. What color is your car?

White. Ugly I know but I cared so little when I was picking it out on the lot that I just pointed to the first Civic I saw.

47. Do you like cats?

I’ll have to think about that one…I mean…I’ve owned several.

48. Are you thinking about someone right now?

No, I’m thinking about my headache and how I’ve been squinting more.

49. Have you ever been to Six Flags?

Yes.

50. How did you get your worst scar?

Smallpox vaccination.