My Blog Has Comments?

I woke up this morning and did a happy dance. In the five hours I had slept, my blog had 3 comments and over thirty new page views. This, for me, is super exciting. This is no pants, eat Doritos, and watch-an-entire-season-of-Dexter-in-one-sitting exciting. Can you tell how excited I am?

I started this blog in 2010, did a couple of random sucktackular posts, and then just forgot it. At that time my mother was sick and I was constantly travelling between Sri Lanka and Baltimore. I didn't have time to sleep, let alone write a blog. Then a couple of months ago I came across this pin with a list of books to read for the summer and found Jenny Lawson's book "Let's Pretend This Never Happened", and blog, www.thebloggess.com.

I loved her book. Scarily, I identified with her childhood. No, my father was not a taxidermist, and no, I didn't have a sister to share the trauma memories with, yet I felt like she and I would have been BFF's. So I proceeded to stalk her: followed her blog, followed her on Twitter, followed her on Pinterest. Total stalkerness, to the point she may have considered putting out a restraining order. I kid, I kid, I make joke with you!

And when I started following her, I also began finding other AMAZING blogs, and now I live in a continuous state of blogging.

Anyways, this is just to say thanks, so thanks everyone! You guys are amazeballs and I love all two of you.

That's right, bitches. Be jealous.

Mommy wow! I'm a "big girl" now.

My family is so weird.

I know that all of you think that your family is weird and embarrassing, but mines takes the cake. Really. While showering, I thought of over a dozen embarrassing (now hilarious) stories, that might also be the reason I need therapy. Check it out.

"Big Girl"
In most cultures, a girl "becomes" a woman when she begins menstruating. Usually, there's a 'talk' and an embarrassing trip to the store, and bham, it's all done. It's never bought up again, unless to reiterate a point during the 'sex talk'. I never got a talk about menstruation or sex, because it is assumed that as a brown girl, I will remain celibate till marriage, and by that point I would "pick up on these things from movies". In our culture, it's an entirely different game.

Let's summarize: you get your period. Your mother screams and cries from joy? shock? happiness? (I really have no clue.) They shove you in to your room for SEVEN days, in which no males other than immediate family can see you. They then make you drink all sorts of randomness to make you stronger? healthier? more fertile? (Again, I have no clue.) And then, THEY THROW A PARTY. A party in which they tell all of your family and friends that you are now a "big girl". If you're brown, and you haven't heard the phrase "big girl" in regard to your menstrual cycle, I envy you. 

Imagine having to explain the reason for this sudden party to the cute sons of your parent's friends.
Me: "Uh, yeah, it's my half-birthday." 
Cute Guy: "It's November and your birthday's in two months. That doesn't make sense."
Me: "Oh look, cake!" *Runs away!*

This entire episode is bad enough, but mine's was worse. I was always an over-achiever in this department.

My "big girl" moment happened to fall during an important project in middle school. You know, middle school, that time where life is hard enough as it is, and being a "chubby" brown girl doesn't let you fit in AT ALL. My parents, being brown, and wanting me to get all A's so I can be a 'doctor' (scoff, they must be proud huh), said that they would go and drop off my project for me. In hindsight, I should have SEEN it coming. My mother couldn't be prouder that I was a "big girl" as if I'd actually done something. So when they went to go drop it off, a friend of mine happened to see my mom and asked her where I was, and my mother thought it would be appropriate to respond:

"Oh, she's a big girl now! She got her period, and she's at home because she can't see boys, but we're having a party to celebrate this Saturday. You should come!"

This moment, right there ladies and gentleman, was the death of my already dying popularity. How many of you can pinpoint that moment in your life? I'm special, I tell you.

I, of course, denied the entire thing. But it was never the same after that...

"Apple Pie"
A conversation I overheard between my mom and an aunt. 

Aunt: Shahnaz got an iPad right? How is it?
Mom: Oh, it's great. I play Bingo on it all the time. 
Aunt: Where'd she get it?
Mom: The Apple Pie store.
Aunt: I should stop by there tomorrow and get one. 

"Waterrrrrr"
My mother called me up once, laughing so hard that she could barely breathe. I was at work and had to leave my cubicle because her laughter could be heard two cubicles over. Yes, our office is super quiet, but my mother was also very loud. 

Me: Mom, are you ok?
Mom: *Gasp. Laugh. Gasp some more. Laugh louder.* 
Me: Mom, I'm at work. What's up?
Mom: *Still laughing.* I'll have to call you back once I catch my breath.
Me: You're ok right?
Mom: Yeah! We're fine. *Laugh. Laugh. Laugh. Click.*

My mother called me again half an hour later to relay what was so funny. My parents, at one point, lived in the heart of Baltimore City. They had a studio apartment over a shop on Saratoga St. which they loved. Many evenings you could find my mother hanging over the window, waiting for my father to come home from work. They were a cute couple.

That particular day, my father parked his car, looked up at my mother and said, "Throw down some water." My dad's friends with the shop owner below and usually spends some time having a chat before he comes up. So my mother replied, "Why do you want water? Chuck* has bottles in the shop."

With a confused look on his face, my father said, "No, throw down some water!" Shrugging, my mother threw down a water bottle and almost knocked my dad out cold. Seemingly frustrated, "What are you doing?", he yells, "Throw down water!!!!!" 

At this point my mother is confused and irritated and yells out "I don't know what you want. Go away." and proceeds to close the window. Now, completely red and irritated himself, my father starts beating the parking meter and yelling,"Water! Water! Water!" 

She still couldn't stop laughing as she said, "Turns out he wanted quarters!"

I should have a Pinterest board of twerking videos... said, no one ever.

It's 6:22 am and I am yet to fall asleep. I don't think I should be writing posts in this state.

I've got mad baby fever, y'all. Like to the point I need a bigger box for all of the clothes I've bought my unborn child. It's scary, I know. And let's not even discuss my future child's Pinterest board...

Every month I let myself believe that I'm pregnant, and then I realize I'm not and spend a few days eating chocolate and watching episodes of Big Bang Theory on my bed. 

Zak and I have always said that if it wasn't meant to be, that it was ok, and that what we have now is more than enough. And though I believe we will pull through not having children, I still think that both of us would feel a tad incomplete. 

Ok, enough of the depressed ranting, does anyone ever forget how old they are? Someone asked me how old I was the other day and my mind went blank and I blurted 23. I'm sure they thought I was being anal and trying to appear younger than them, but meh, who cares. Afterwards, I had an hour-long debate on whether I was 27 or 28, in my head mind you. Turns out, I'm 26! I had to actually do the subtract-the-year-you-were-born-from-this-year calculation to figure it out. I'm completely fucked if I have memory problems now itself.

Dad's back in Sri Lanka. He's still not 100%... I don't think he ever will be actually. Zak and I are planning on going to Bangladesh for a month with him; Zak's never met my father's side of the family. This could either be a really fun trip, or it could lead to Zak questioning our marriage. I'll let you know how it goes, if we go.

Completely out of the blue, but have ya'll watched Busta Rhymes's 'Twerk It' music video? I'm not going to lie, when I initially heard the song, I had to Google what 'twerk' was... this could be an entirely different blog post: "My Twerk Adventures: To Thongs & Beyond". My eyes are forever burned with the images of all that ass. Even female artists have music videos with a whole lotta females... when are we going to accept male video ho's? hos'? hos? What's the plural of 'ho'? Anyway, watch the music video. If my eyes are fucked, yours should be too.

I have to say that the 'twerk' Google search led to a video of Miley Cyrus twerking in a unicorn onesie. I don't understand the unicorn, but the girl's got rhythm! And plus that song 'Wop' by J Dash is amazeballs.

I need some sheesha and a Cadbury Mousse Double Chocolate chocolate bar. Has anyone had one of these? DROOL.