Monkey In a Suit

Apparently the first thing Mentos did after I related to him that I am open to Americans is call up his cousin and tell him the good news.

Okay, so Mentos is attractive, I’ve always told you guys that. The swarthy good looks run in the family. Except his cousin is crazy. Crazy, twice divorced, a baby daddy and categorised as “terminally unemployable” by Social Security. I mean, “crazy” like occasionally I have seen him around our suite batting at imaginary dragonflies CRAZY.

Ummm, not HUSBAND MATERIAL. Besides the fact that I am deeply engrossed in mad guitar researching and planning ski trips and crap, I don’t even have TIME to try to get kicked in the face again.

The thing is, that all of Mentos’s cousins on that side are bizarrely intelligent, but don’t really amount to much (they can’t keep jobs). Of the set of 3, one attended Caltech, one went to Stanford (creepsville), and the last one went to Berkeley.

That said, they are all NUTS. Batting at imaginary dragonflies is the tip of the iceberg. Berkeley boy hasn’t left the house in 10 years and apparently Caltech has a chronic handwashing problem and only goes places with “free flowing tap water within 10 feet at all times”.  Oh, and they all go fundie once every four years like clockwork, or something.

I can’t believe you told HIM, I was okay dating Americans again, I screamed at Mentos this morning, clutching Batting-Dragonflies “courtship letter*” (that he left on my chair) in my hand.

He went to STANFORD, MONKEY, Mentos protests with that look of “innocence” on his face before descending into cackles.

HE COLLECTS WELFARE AND BATS AT IMAGINARY INSECTS, I retorted sharply before stalking out of Mentos’s office to shred said letter.  

I think I’m going to keep a running list of things I find entirely unacceptable in ANY type of man, leaving out the ethnicity quotient entirely:

1) Should not BAT AT IMAGINARY DRAGONFLIES

2) Should not be classified as “terminally unemployable due to mental illness” by the FEDERAL GOVERNMENT

3) No baby daddies

4) Keeps boob-spooging fantasies to SELF

I know, fussy fussy, right?

I think I’m going to go drown myself in our new toilets, now. My new, expanded love life isn’t starting off on the best foot.

*It veered between intensely pornographic and bizarrely romantic. I really liked the part where he promised to spooge “tenderly” on my chest after unwrapping me like a Christmas present. You can imagine only imagine my mortification and pink cheeks. What am I, trapped in some nightmarish version of bloody freaking Atonement?   

I really don’t have the emotional energy right now to finish Sweet Far Thing even though I started it. And yes, I totally spoilered myself and THANK GODS because while I have nicely recovered from loverly disappointment, I’m still fragile and I only want to think and read happy positive stuff right now.

(although I watched “Perfume: Story of a Murderer” last night and found it pretty funny, and a very good movie)

Libba, how could you? I’m just going to pretend that never happened LALALALALA.  

Okay, art blahblahblah.

g&k4eva,

monkey

Me: *stalking over to Mentos* How come you didn’t tell me HDL was coming in today? I would have worn my new $12 dress from Ross!

Mentos: Because HDL always talks about how surprised and delighted you are to see him. “Monkey always looks so surprised and excited to see me, she’s so nice” he said the last time he was here.

Me: Jerk. You know it’s because you like seeing that look of panic on my face when I realise he’s here and I’ve dressed slummy*.

Mentos: Mmm, thinking of having an affair with him?

Me: *shocked* He would NEVER, he LOVES her. I just like to LOOK at him.

Mentos: You and Jewish boys***. Look but no touch, huh?

Me: NO LONGER. I’m dating Americans, again. Everyone’s on notice**

Mentos: My cousin really wants to…

Me: American boys who are NOT your creepy cousin. Tell him to stop staring at me when he comes around here.

*Incidentally, I’ve since thrown out every slummy piece of clothing (most of my wardrobe) and am strictly adhering to what I think of as a “reasonable” standard of business casual attire. Express editor pants, blandana pencil skirts, sweaters or button down shirts. It’s boring and very conservative but I’ve thrown out all the khakhi and no longer wear flipflops (I upgraded to Clarks mary janes with a small heel).

**HDL could hardly be described as a boy but despite being in his 50s he LOOKS like he’s only about 31. It’s freaking INSANE. Then occasionally he complains about his sciatic nerve and it’s like “oops, yes, he is in his 50s” 

***The fact that I haven’t taken a single step to meeting a nice American boy is irrelevant. EVERYONE’s on notice. Maybe I’ll put up a match.com profile later on this month. Next month. Whatever.

Okay, I am going to lurk around the conference table and smile in a polite, not-coming-on way at HDL.

Cripes his wife is lucky. *sigh*

I had a long talk with my parents and both my mom and dad not only AGREED that I might be better off with an American, they expressly told me to go out and find one.

If any of our relatives talk, they told me, we’ll tell them what you’ve suffered through. Boy after stupid boy whining about mummy and daddy this, caste that, guju this, kannada that. Let them even try to talk, we’ll burn their ears!

Don’t put a definite no on Indian boys, but don’t put any more restrictions. This is ridiculous. Just try to find one like your nice American friends.

There you, go. Honestly you guys, I love my mom and dad so much. This may not seem like a big thing to some of you but I can tell you that a statement like that is pretty fricking rare from people raised as conservatively as them. It just shows me that as much as they sing the praises of the mothership, they are, like me, true Americans.

And incidentally, at least ONE of my classmates dropped me a link to like, the most adorable white dude ever.

Like the fact that I am no longer straightening my hair, this feels like sweet sweet relief. A big load off my back.  

So please, email me your hottie white guy friends so I can at least expand my jackoff potential.

I haven’t even purchased a guitar yet but I’m already thinking up titles to songs I’m going to write.

Urchins belong in a Dickens novel (not on my plate)

Where can I find a nice white boy to marry? Where o’ Where?

I’d like a porcupine quill (and a hedgehog headdress)

If only…(an ode to idiots that block my way)

Lament of the unmarriageable desi girl

Pelt positive

I’m really looking forward to my arrival as a cult folk music star.

I’ve been having a series of baddish days, leading to my not getting anything done this weekend (I was going to hunt down a pasta for M&Co. and review Foodiebytes beta for Cagey…which, btw, they just changed again so check it out).

1) I was really, really, REALLY looking forward to going skiing this weekend. Cue so much snow and inclement weather that the two closest resorts closed and kept delaying opening. By noon on Sunday I’d given up.

I absolutely hate when I plan something, look forward to it, get my hopes up only to be crushed.

2) So of course I was like, okay, let me at least go to the conservatory and check out guitar prices. They’re closed (have that planned for Tuesday, now).

3) Went out to desi club on Friday only to be hit upon by 23 year old children. Also ran into the hedge fund manager again, who, very kindly was like “wow, you’ve gotten even prettier” and paid me many nice compliments only to follow it up with “you know, I have a couple of girlfriends right now…and I plan to keep them…but I could really see you becoming my wife, as long as you realise I’ll always have other girls around.”

I mean, WHAT THE HELL. What type of women actually respond to that type of a statement. Women who want to be KEPT, I’m guessing. What do you think the wage bar is for a guy to be able to talk to a girl like that? I know for a fact that he makes well above 300K-so I’m guessing it’s in the low 200s. That’s the tipping point, so to speak.  

Me: Thanks man, but I plan to aim a little higher.

Him: Oh, you’re killing me…but you’ll come around in time. There aren’t a lot of guys who can deal with someone like you.

Me: What does that mean?

Him: You know, you’re like that breed of very aggressive women that make most guys feel small. Like a guyish woman, except you’re pretty feminine looking, actually. Eventually you’ll figure out it’s me or lowering your standards.

Me: Or I could just date white guys.

*cue me walking away*

It was an okay time but it left me grouchy because it confirms my suspicions that the only guys who tolerate me are such sh*ts, it’s not worth it for me to go out with them. OTOH, he and his friend invited me to hang out with them and they claim they invite other people so I might just join that little social group only to see if they have other friends (not friends I want to date, but that might be nice to talk to).

4) Sunday I get a call from 5, who’s all, “I want you to know that I really like you but I really think I need someone from my own ethnic community…so just keep in mind that as we keep going out I’m never going to be able to make any sort of emotional commitment to you…”

At which point he kept on talking but I hung up on him.

I think he got the drift.

I’ll admit it, I was highly unsurprised because I’m pretty certain every desi guy in the world is flipping nuts (I’ll take back my “I hate Indians” screeching and limit it to Indian MEN aka “pussies completely led about by the d___ by their parents” and OLD INDIAN PEOPLE WHO STILL CARE ABOUT CASTE AND ETHNIC BACKGROUND…because come to think of it, I like Indian women just fine) but it still made me grouchy and I screamed at my dad quite a bit. This is unfair to him except that he gets on his high horse and makes statements like “You should consider yourself so above these people that this type of behaviour shouldn’t matter…” which makes me want to punch him in the face. Because sorry daddykins, but I DO take it personally, and it DOES matter to me and I’m freaking done.

The reason I get grouchy is that I never pull this sh*t on other people. And I don’t know if these idiots are making excuses except why would someone call me up to schedule another meeting but TELL ME UPFRONT that he doesn’t want to make any sort of emotional commitment ever, if he truly found me grotesque?

5) I am voting for Barack Obama. I mean screw it, I’ll be honest, I don’t like Hill that much and I do like Barack. If we play it safe all our lives we won’t make changes.

6) Things that made me *squish*

I got mle and doola’s wedding invites in the mail this weekend and my dad and I spent some time pouring over it.

a) COOLEST wedding invites in the world, surrrsly

and b) geez, doola, you should make this type of stuff professionally and sell it on etsy or something. I was totally blown away. Have been to scads of weddings but these were unique and had so much love put into them that I honestly teared up a little because I can already see your wedding in my mind.

If I ever get married can I commission you to draw me an elephant?

Alright,

I’ve been going back and forth as to where I wanted to go. For a while I was considering a cheaper country in Asia but I decided that I have wanted to see Europe, some part of Europe, for so long that I should just spend the money and go.

I have no interest in the English isles at the moment because I’ve been there plenty of times. I have yet to see the continent.

Then of course it’s like okay…France, Spain, Italy, Greece…or should I venture a bit east to the gateway of Turkey? Don’t even try to convince me about Germany or Sweden or Denmark or whatnot. Sorry y’all but you know where my foodie tastes lie and I insist on going some place mediterranean with enough ay-rub/north african influence in the cuisine to make me happy.

I’ve decided on Greece for the following reasons

a) I studied classics for a long time, history and language. I never took ancient greek (I studied latin) but ANY study of latin will encompass a study of history, sociology, mythology, philosophy etc., and you cannnot avoid the Greeks and their contribution to, like, freaking EVERYTHING.  And the Romans borrowed freely as necessary.

b) I’d love to go to Turkey but it would drive my parents straight into teeth gnashing territory because they would insist that I be accompanied by a male chaperone. If you have something to say on this matter, please don’t. My parents are very modern, liberal and free-thinking but they only have 2 kids and they’re perpetually haunted by fears that we’re going to be kidnapped and the serial killer profile (more likely to be killed here than in Turkey) doesn’t reassure them. They would not like me gadding about India by myself either (I asked this, in a huff and they responded “don’t be ridiculous! India would be even worse than Turkey! At least they’re halfway to being first world!”)  

So, umm, Greece it is.

This is very preliminary but I’m thinking basically a two week trip.

1 week: mainland. Athens, Delphi, Meteora and maybe Olympia

2nd week: Crete

Reasons:

a) My primary interest is in visiting ancient sites/museums/archaeological digs and

b) I figure I’ll get my fill of islandey stuff in Crete AND there are ruins and cultural things to do. I also want to do a lot of hiking, maybe renting a motorbike and gadding about.

Nightclubs and whatnot really don’t hold much interest for me-especially, as I have mentioned about a zilion times, I don’t even drink or really party. I’d much rather spend my money on dinner and entrance fees. Also, I’m sure I’ll go to a beach and whatnot but I’m really not that beachey (funny considering swimming in surf is all I loved to do as a child). I don’t like to wear swimsuits…not because of the body issues but because I don’t like to tan (I don’t even wear shorts, but am the only person in pants and long-sleeved shirts in Cali almost year round). So the cliffside marvels of Mykonos/Santorini and the Cyclaedean islands don’t hold much interest for me. I was leaning towards going to Corfu because I grew up reading a lot of Gerald Durrell, but apparently it’s really over developed and infested with the backpacker crowd, whom I’d prefer to avoid at all costs. That’s not me being a snob, I just don’t want to get crabs from standing downwind from said dirty little hippies, and I’m too old and crotchety to get a kick out of trying to fall asleep listening to intoxicated screaming college children. Besides which,  I get my fill of mediterranean scenery (crashey waves, high cliffs) living out here and doing the Route 1 drive anyway.

I am genuinely going so I can see all the stuff I read and dreamt about for so long.

Anyone been to these places? Care to share what you liked?

I had some mild fits of melancholy last night, a deep desire to bash 3 in the head for behaving in such an ungentleman-like manner, and an inordinate craving for cheesecake.

I think it’s important to acknowledge these types of feelings but not to let them bring you down. I can’t help that I’m somewhat (okay, very) sensitive and while I am quite alright, I still clench with a deep abiding sensation of wanting to know that he’s suffering and missing me. Then I realise these thoughts are unhelpful and it doesn’t really matter one way or the other and I have no way of figuring it out, anyway. The nice thing about being jaded, bitter, cynical and completely emotionally de-sensitised by your career is that you can get up quite easily after being bashed in the face with an emotional shovel. Over and over and over, again.

So! My list-

I’m going skiing this Sunday at Mt. Baldy, where I’ll be taking lessons and practicing my “moves” on the bunny hills, of course. Next weekend the stupid local desi yuppies are having a ski trip so I really want to be sure that I can at least get to the intermediate hills that day and don’t waste the time wobbling about on the bunny hills.

As I said, I’ll be learning guitar. Classical guitar, actually. The reason for this is that it seems like it would be cheaper to invest in a beginner’s acoustic guitar (you can get a brand new on on Amazon that is highly rated for $99) and also because I figure I’ll start off with classical music and then maybe move to Rocking Out later on. Incidentally, music lessons are EXPENSIVE. I think what I’m going to do is buy a 4-lesson series of 1 hour first, figure out my commitment (I am committed but want to see my progression over the 4), practice and then purchase more in a 1/2 hour-per-lesson series package.

Greece! Where to go, what to do? My head feels like it’s going to explode. Frommers says the optimal time to avoid hordes and insanely hot weather is between April to June but I really can’t spare the vacation (not to mention, I have to build it up). First because I have mle & doola’s wedding to go to in March, my sister’s graduation in May, possibly her Boston graduation party (which I’m going to beg my parents to hold over July 4th so I can just coast off a federal holiday). Right now I’m thinking Greece is going to happen around the end of September. A couple of days in Athens, I HAVE to at least see Corfu (huge Gerald Durrell fan) and then I might head out to Crete.

The only thing I am mildly considering scratching off my list is getting another tattoo, the reason being that I told my sister this list yesterday and she heartily approved of all until I got to the tattoo bit and was all “yeah, so the one you have isn’t a big deal but if you go whole hogger with this you’re going to be considered Hep C potential and they’re going to constantly screen you and your medical files wahwahwahwahwah.” So I was just thinking about it and I already have ONE so I guess I’ve proved the point that I’m a “rebellious” Indian girl already so there’s no real need to drive it home. Besides, they are expensive and I tip the artists (because seriously, tip your tattoo artist) and those costs add up. I think if I do get one, I’ll get it done some place nice up in SF.

As a final note, I really am thinking of buying a place this year, probably by the end of 2008, so I’m going to start looking this summer. Because of this, I’m really debating my options as to location. I could buy it where I live, here in SoCal but that means that I get tied down here. Ideally, I’d like to move up to SF, but I’m worried I missed the boat on getting a transfer within my agency.

Even if I have to buy here, tant pis. Prices in L.A., even in the snooty area I’m looking to invest in, are going to be such that I can pick up a condo for under 300K and if I put 20% down and purchase where I intend to (nice areas of Pasadena), I don’t mind keeping it long-term as an investment property and renting it out. The key is to make sure I pick up something where if I rent it out, I don’t have to pay any more than a few hundred in difference to make up whatever the renter doesn’t. We’ll see.

More later. I’m exhausted at work today. I’m getting a dry cough from turning up the heat to make up for the fact that it is cold and rainy here…so my dad made me take a cold tablet last night. Predictably, I am dragging today. I think I’m going to insist we go buy a humidifier because I hate taking medication when I don’t have to.

Things I want to do in 2008 (Year of the Monkey! Thanks EEK!)

1) Travel to Europe-most likely Greece.

2) Learn how to downhill ski, and ski a lot.

3) Run a race (more on this! I’m running! For reals! I was start and stop on Sunday…the day I just went outside and started running with angry tears running down my face…and it’s Wednesday and I can run 3.5 miles non-stop! My dad thinks I already had the fitness, I just had to get used to the motion)

4) Learn how to play the guitar (Yes! Moi!)

5) Get even fitter-I want to be able to pass the FBI physical fitness test I couldn’t deal with to apply to the agency three years ago. Next year is my 30th birthday and I’d like to be able to take a really tasty nakey picture and send it to every emotional fuckwit/twat I have had to deal with.  

and finally,

6) FUCK IT. If I’m going to be Ye Unmarriageable Desi Girl I will look the part to the fucking extreme. And that means I’m getting ANOTHER tattoo and goddamn it, this one is going to be bigger and I’ll smack it somewhere EVERYONE can see.

In short, 2008 is going to be my Jay-Z year. You know, one hand holding my balls, my finger to the sky??

Everyone’s on notice.

Yes, I’ve gone to password protecting certain posts. How many, I’m not sure, nor do I know how many I’ll protect in the future.

 If you’ve already written to monkeyinasuit79@hotmail.com (or I’m friends with you IRL), I’ll email you the password tonight. If not or you’re worried about it, email me again there again or leave me a comment in this post with your email address.