Desi Girl Called Isheeta

Much ado about goo

You know how you love someone so much sometimes that...

... that your heart just.wants.to.burst and split into a million pieces of gooeycandylove?

... that you wonder how you ever lived without that person, ever?

... that you conveniently want to keep talking about that person's hair, mannerisms, eyes, likes, dislikes, laugh, teeth, farts, burps, smiles to anyone and everyone who would listen including the Chapters cashiers, the 16-year-old grocery store clerks who give you blank looks, the Vietnamese dry-cleaning lady, the Shoppers Drug Mart makeup lady, even your siblings who would rather watch psychoanalysis shows like Criminal Minds and Law & Order than listen to you yak about your loved one.. for the 100 millionth time?

... that you have already started planning for the person's birthday even though it is 5 months away?

... that when you are doing something as inane and mundane as putting on your socks, you envision his toes (?!?!?!) and you think how they like to play footsie with your toes instead of letting you sleep at night? 

... that your heart swells with pride when you realize he really takes care of you in ways that no one else can - he fixes your car, he goes to the gym with you, he kisses you randomly in the gym, he picks you up from work even though its way out of his way, he watches girly movies with you last minute even though he is exhausted, he is ridiculously nice and loving to your family and you feel you have won the lottery?

Yeah.

Today, I just want to smack his head instead.

Montreal, anyone?

So I'll be in Montreal after mid-Nov for a work seminar.

My FIRST work trip!

I was kinda hoping my first trip to Montreal would not be by my lonesome without friends or family, but alas! 'tis a cruel cruel world (barf).

So I'm there for 2 nights. And surpise surprise, I do not know a soul there (except B but he's travelling now)! Such is the mighty power of my astounding social butterfly skills. Wondrous, ye fate!

So I was wondering if anyone wanted to just drop by and say hello and we'll do some Montreal shopping and espresso in ye olde cobbled streets (oh wait, thats quebec city). And you get to meet la femme Isheeta! And we'll sing around exquisite fountains, just like Shahrukh and other Bollywood stars.

It's ok to say no, at least you tried :)

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned

There's a lady at work who has been pissing me off royally.

You know, I thought that when I get married, auntyji snickers and snide comments would stop. But as we all know by now, problems don't go away.. they just transform and mutate into witches.

So ever since I got married, she has been rubbing it in my face as to when I am going to have kids.

Like hello you dumb snooty lady, the honeymoon bed is still creaking loud and clear, ok?!

So I have been brushing it off albeit politely, because well, its none of her nosy business when my uterus decides to go into overdrive. Also, I have enough emotional drama going on in my life as a newly-wed to start thinking of spewing out babies. This lady, who we shall call RoyalBitchInTheAss for simplicity's sake, is a few years older than me. So yeah, not so much, because last I checked, I wasn't ready to keel over the grave or a will. She also has a teenage son, which means she was married when I was finishing up high school.

So while I was submitting my university entrance applications, this lady was lying in bed with her husband ensuring the survival of her RoyalBitch genes. Her mentality is old-school mentality (read: dumb)

It also seems that this lady is more concerned about my biological clock ticking away louder than my mother is. She's a generally nice funny person when she wants to be, but she is all about herself too. She can be such a catty catty woman. Ugh. I CANNOT stand women who are self-righteous catty snooty little twats. Since I have been married, it seems the number of women who fit into this category have suddenly increased at an exponential scale. I cannot begin to tell you the number of women I have come across who are so downright rude, inconsiderate, and openly back-bite just to get a rise out of you because they cannot stand your happiness, or because they don't have manners, or because thats how BROWN women are - catty, self-absorbent little bitches. NO wonder there are so many single brown people out there! Put together egotistical brown guys, with even more witchy egotistical brown girls, and presto, you have the biggest load of brown shit out there!

I'm sorry, I am not talking about the general brown desi population so you can lay off those pitchforks, I am talking about the few brown people/stereotypes out there who ruin it for all of us. Like that lady at work.

Yesterday I was really hungry and I didn't want to go to the vending machine, so RoyalBitchInTheAss offered me some grapes. I offered her my thanks and tell her that the grapes are a better alternative than the chocolate because I am trying to workout and eat healthy and lose weight. Then she asks me when I am going to have kids, because according to her, I AM GETTING OLD and I only have a few years left, and I shouldnt wait. I was almost tempted to yell at her very loudly that I had no intention of bringing any kids into this world who would be subjected to walking excrement like her. But I didn't. I just said that I was waiting till after my reception. She bulldozes that information then she proceeds to ask me how old I am. I add a few years to my age just to piss her off, and she goes, oh you must have some kids NOW, tut-tuting along.

I hope this lady dies.

I'm sorry there is no other way of making me feel better, than hopefully be present at her immediate and sudden demise. Which I also hope will be long and painful.

Today, while I was admiring one of my other good friends at work and how great she looked in those skinny jeans, RoyalBitchInTheAss goes, "well you better do something about it then!"

By this time, I am ready to fly in a rage, so I yell at her, "RoyalBitchInTheAss, why are you so mean?! You are so damned mean!"

RoyalBitchInTheAss responds, "thats how you're gonna get to it, you're gonna be inspired!"

I tell her, "Skinny jeans thinks the same way, but she isn't mean about it! You're like one of those mean auntijis that I hate and avoid at parties because they can't keep their mouth shut!"

RoyalBitchInTheAss is shocked, then responds, cutely, nicely "I gave you grapes!"

I wanted to tell her that she could shove her grapes up her ass for all I care, but then.. it was the longest 2 seconds of my life. I knew this was damage control, and I didnt want to cause a bigger scene than what I was already causing, so I said, also cutely, "fine!"

I was seething. Livid. Ready to explode.

Why are women like this?! If guys fought, they would FightClub this out. Sometimes I wish I was a guy.

Then I went back to work, and googled for online voodoo curses. Then I remembered they're haram. Then I went back to my work. again.

She later came up to me, to apologize. She asked me if I was still mad at her, and then she said that she understood, it is hard to lose weight. Really?! REALLY, you piece of jackass flostrum? Do you really understand my emotions and why I got harakiri on you, because if you really do understand, hallelluah there is hope that you are not going to die a lonely and miserable death!

Instead of freaking out at her and bitch-slapping her like I had imagined, and yelling at her that I hated her guts.... I just got a little teary and lumpythroatish (??????????? who knows, I don't know?!!?!!) and told her that we are cool. I am such a girl. I (almost) cry at everything!

It's not cool. I feel like such a sell-out. I was supposed to yank her hair, have her ass-whopped by a crocodile while a wild animal was gouging her eyes out, then toss her around like pigskin in a field of burly football players. Instead because I didn't want any drama, I said its cool.

It is not ok. I cannot stand people who think they know it all and go out of their way to make others feel like shit because it makes them feel good, pretending they are nice later on. Did I mention I have come across SO MANY OF THESE in the last 3 months?! It is like the floodgates of evil women have opened. I cannot believe women can be so catty and so bitchy. Clearly I have not hung around enough women like I thought I did. I so prefer guys to women at this rate. If a guy hates you, he tells you. He yells at you so you never want to go back to him.  If a girl hates you, she will candycoat her insults, so you can go back to her again and again to be insulted. No different than domestic abuse. What the hell?! I am not speaking for all women, I am speaking of the women who have the ability to do this, and do it simply because they believe they can get away with it.

So rather than being a similar worst snooty, inconsiderate, self-righteous, selfish catty little bitch out there, I let her get away with it and decided to be the biggest sappiest doormat out there.

I still hope she suffers a miserable existence. or death. i'm not picky.

Progress

Last night, I went to the gym where I did some cardio at the elliptical and some weights. It felt  really good. I felt SO energized, and happy!

After all of that was done, I woke up.

Now I just have to do it while I am awake.

Intellectual stimulating stuff that married people talk about

Boggles the mind.

Ball & Chain

A few days ago, one of my friends asked me how my ball and chain is doing.

Clearly, she was referring to my husband.

I found it funny, but I was also insulted.

I mean, c'mon!

Just ONE ball?! Clearly you don't know my husband.

(ok, ewwww and ..it was just funny cuz I turned it around on her, haha).

Stopping the madness, finally

I can't stop.

I'm like that much older lady at work who wears those tacky leopard print pants and ohtootight top with spaghetti straps, exposing massive bosoms (oh I love this overdramatic word..shits and giggles) coupled with chunky matching accessories and shoes for tweens, and there you are all dressed in your sombre, professional work attire of grey sweater and black dress pants, looking all professional and rolling your eyes at the obvious fashion mistake in front of your eyes. 

You wonder what it is that keeps that 45 year old from thinking that she is not 16, but rather than waste your precious work hours delving into something so 'deep' and trying to see any logic in the lady's thought process, you decide to write her off as a nutjob and/or a freakshow. And in effect, your quick-witted solution to categorize her have ensured that you move on with more demanding, important aspects of your work day - namely, talking about Grey's Anatomy from previous night.

Ain't life grand?

There are so many things in life we cannot control - from the weather, to what the crazy old lady at the office wears. But there is one single thing that we can control - our perspective, our attitude, our thought process.

It's been 3 weeks or so since I last posted on how I was miserable as a blimp. To cut the embarassment, and to cut to the chase, needless to say my new efforts/goals on slimming down to a beanstalk have not exactly been fruitful. I lie.. its been hopeless. Unlike this economy, my eating schedules have had its daily fluctutations of highs and lows... ok fine, mostly highs, but I'm trying! Shit it's been so hard. It's not that I physically crave anything, its just that sometimes I feel... hungry. (I AM NOT pregnant, dont even go there, its only been 2.5 months! waaaaah).

I feel like that much older lady who knows she looks tacky in those garish silver shoes (yes NS, really, we have one of those too at work), but she STILL wears them because well, she got two of those on sale and its right there!! So easy and convenient! I KNOW I can change outta this habit, given the right will-power and support (and advice of a good fashion advisor), but you know, sometimes I just.....I just... I gotta say this... admittance is the first step... sometimes I *choose* not to.  Out of sheer lazyness! it's not that I even love eating, nowadays I dont crave food or junk food (a plus), I think its just that I am being very sedentary, aargh!

Yesterday I went to the gym for the first time in months. Ah, my gym membership is my monthly charity case.... without a tax receipt, dammit. It felt incredible, but I was huffing and puffing like a little piglette (my husband finds this cute...... oh ye of blind faith!) I know I should exercise a helluva lot more than I am right now (i mean, really, walking is not a sport, unless it involves shopping), but when I do work out, I feel like a caveman forced to do accounting when all I want to do... is club an elephant! I feel outta my element at this workout thing, I feel like I am outta sync with my nature.

I'm just scared that if I keep up with this.. this lack of willpower to take care of myself, my body, I will eventually be labelled off as someone who is not even trying. Someone will one day roll their eyes at me and wonder what the hell happened to that girl who used to go to the gym a lot and eat anything she liked. I already feel like a failure beause of this. And then chances are that is when, one day, I will stop believing in myself, and will start to think that others that don't wear tacky leopard prints and too tight spaghetti strap tops with chunky accessories and hideous shoes are the abnormal type.  aaargh. Nooooooooooooooooooooo, never!

I can't control other people's attitudes or pespectives, but I can definitely fix myself up.

Onward. The battle continues!

The Last Hurrah?

The problem with being not so anonymous anymore is that everyone knows your dirty little secrets. Or your stupid little thoughts. They may be smart and cute to me, but they are probably stupid to some one else.

I kinda miss it, just being anonymous and being in the shadows, and saying what is really in my head. So many people say or do things that can be hurtful, yet I can't even talk about it like I used to, because ..... aah, for a myriad of reasons.

I miss talking deep with someone other than my husband (he's so cute when he talks all.... smart), I miss exchanging ideas without being target practice, I miss being melancholic, I miss talking about my dreams, I miss talking about other people's dreams, I miss exploring all my potential that I took for granted while being just a figure behind the keyboard.

You know how sometimes you're at that stage in your life where you have just want to run away from everything, and start afresh? You pack up, move town, or just start a new job, or get a new short short haircut?

yeah.

I'm not sure where I am going to go with this blog. It's been a good run. Every time someone comments and tells me that they have been lurking for a while, from my horribly bad dates and heartbreaks to the beginning of my beautiful forever, followed by how happy they are reading about me, and my life so far, I go, "wow". it is surreal, Every Single Time. I, Ms. Isheeta, have done my part in helping someone just through my WORDS ALONE. Being a part of my life, interactive or otherwise. It's almost like winning the Nobel Peace Prize (except I'm not Le Prez). It's inspiring, but I dunno if I am as deserving.

I don't have a lot to complain about these days. Well, I lie. I do. But they're just not worth complaining about. My life is bliss compared to a huge chunk of the world's, and I find it exhausting, draining, petty and self-centred to just focus on me alone. So I have been focused on ...well, other people's complaints. It's just easier that way, and its a helluva more fun, yee-haw!

I read something the other day, about the ills of procrastination, and how you can avoid SO MUCH stress in your life by getting something done as soon as you can, instead of making a To Do list for much later. I tried that, and after that I didn't know what to do with all the free-time I had! I had been procrastinating the same way with this blog.

Should I stay, or should I go?

(i think thats a song, yes?)

(ps. to all the commentors that have commented recently asking for the pw, yes, your private emails are coming, as i promised!)

Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh

I've been incredibly busy (I know, I know, no shit Sherlock).

Regularly-programmed scheduling to return very shortly, bear with me, yes including comments and password stuff.

See you soon.

Biggest Loser

Today for lunchtime, I decided to go to the Winners next to my workplace. Buy some casual t-shirts, nothing too fancy.

Nothing fit. Nothing. Once upon a time, I used to be a size small. Over the years, I have become a medium. Today, the mediums didnt even fit. Well, I lie. They fit, but my stomach aka pudge stuck out like a jiggling jellybottom. (If I ever decide to become a porn star, that would be the name I'd go for - Jiggles McJellybottom). It was just not attractive.

There was no way I was going to resort to wearing a Large, so I didn't even bother.

Of course, there is the small matter of seeing myself in the full-length mirror, and wanting to bawl my eyes out instead as I scoped the same jiggles that I thought I'd never see on myself.

What has happened to me?!

I watched the Biggest Loser for the 2nd time ever last night. Man that show grabs you by the balls. Like watching a bunch of people who just ate their way to anything and everything.  What is it about watching really obese people in TV and making you reach for that ice-cream? Is that normal? Is this the Biggest Loser's marketing strategy to making me want to apply to the Biggest Loser? BTW, they should have a Biggest Loser Canada.

Feeling sorry for myself and hating every inch of my body, I then decided that I needed to get fatter and drown myself in a greasy pity-party, so I drive over to Burger King, and order a fish sandwich thing. I had a few bites, then I dumped that shit in the garbage. It was definitely the most shittiest cardboard I have ever consumed.

Then I drove back to work, and started cursing my cubicle where I am under balls-and-chains... I mean I sit on my fat ass for 8 hours a day. Really, universe, really?!! How am I expected to have a nice ass if I am expected to sit on my ass for 8 hours and get up just to pee?! 

Then the Man called, and I started crying very quietly to him. How I hate my body, how the bootcamp we have both just started is not enough because I am definitely not even making the effort I did last year, and of course I'm not making half the effort because last year I was 15 pounds lighter and it was relatively a breeze and now all I'm doing is wheezing and huffing and puffing like the wolf that wanted to blow the 3 litle piggies away. Then he told me that he loved me no matter what, and I told him that it doesn't change the fact that I hate myself and my body is still fat. That I have no time for anything anymore like cooking for myself, or even taking the time for extra gym, or just doing the things I want to do because the truth is, I got SO MUCH DONE being alone. Nobody bugged me while I was alone. Now everyone wants a piece of me - my parents, his family, my family, my dentist, my eyebrows lady.. who I haven't seen the time of day anyways because ta daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..... me and time, we're not friends anymore!

I just bawled and cried for myself. Pity party is now more common than delusional Iranian presidents.

I felt so shitty. I have no control of my life.

At that moment, I just wanted an ice-cream to make me feel better.

So then I get back to the car (as you can tell I do no work at work), and drive over for an ice-cream, but this time I decide screw the ice-cream, and I buy myself a pedometer instead from the Winners.

Apparently 6000 steps a day is equivalent to walking for 1 hour, which is 3 miles/4.8 km. Then I'll promote myself to 10000 steps which is what.... 5 miles.... and a dress size 4 or 6.

I swear if I ever get back to my old clothes, I will never make fun of Jabba the Hutt ever again. Just beauty pageants (cuz theyre just dumb, sorry, no matter how skinny they are, they're dumber than dumbo).

To all those bloggers who allow to be subscribed to Google Readers, but they only let you read the excerpt in Google Reader

.. its annoying!

I want to read your entire post in my Google Reader, not your dinky little excerpt!

The whole point of Google Reader is so I can read everything I have to read with the least number of clicks at various sites. By giving me only a tiny excerpt to read, you are depriving me of this, and decreasing my reading experience.

Sooo now I've decided I won't give in to your secret little agenda/strategy to come to your site (I mean, unless you have a nice banner that will make me laugh). That's right, you heard me, if all you're allowing your Google Reader subscribers to read are dinky little excerpts, that is all I am reading! Hmph!

That goes for you too, Amir!

Part Two

How Isheeta met her Man - Dos

Part One

How Isheeta Met The Man

FYI note to every single girl out there who finds married men hot..

.. married men fart A LOT more than single men.

AND MORE FREQUENTLY.

Fact.

This is going to sound awful, but I honestly cannot wait for Ramzaan & Eid to be over.

As much as I love these blessed months and festivities time, somehow here in Canada it seems to be a wasted effort. All I've seen people do (myself included) is make a lot of rich, sugary heart-attack inducing food being made and slaved over for hours at a time, only to disappear in ever-expanding guts within minutes. Ive seen people who really should restrict their intake of crapshit fatty foods further increase their intake of said food, and people throw huge parties to feed others (relatives) all in the name to accumulate "sawaab" (blessings).

Honestly, if you really want to rake up your 'sawaab' and have your sins forgiven, feed someone poor EVERY day. Clean your grandmothers' soiled diapers instead of paying someone at the nursing home to do it. That money you say you cannot afford for Zakat - thats the cost of one pair of gold earrings that you don't need to show off at a desi family party. That creamy shit cheesecake that you put in your mouth would look better on someone who does not have poundage of love handles but whose ribcages are showing. That party you throw where you making fried pakoras, fried mushrooms, fried baigaans all day and that you are bitching about... why don't you take that time instead to reading a recipe or cookbook that is not brimming with heart-attacks, diabetes, ulcers and stroke?!

I am so pissed at the hypocrisy involved here. We are encouraged to spend extra time being nice, being good global citizens, to feel the hunger of the hungry and the homeless, and to empathize and we do ANYTHING but. WHERE is the religion that we are taught? WHERE is the goodness being practised? It is disgusting and revolting. Sometimes I am disgusted with myself when I find myself eating stuff and throwing it away because my ever-bloated stomach cannot handle it. I am no preacher, and I am most certainly not the nicest religious person out there, but the one thing I think would be nice here is consistency. I hate how people tell me I must eat well, I must eat good, and while I am eating their version of 'well' (fried pakoras shit) I am told that I mustnt gain weight, and I must do charity throughout this blessed month, but I see the same people gorging on shit, the same people who claim to know the meaning of excess wastage make their lives a waste, the same people with holier-than-thou attitudes land flat on the ground with their fat ass. In other words, the same people who can't tell the difference where your mouth begins and your ass ends... why are they still alive?