The Worst Matchmaker in the History of Ever
Posted on March 11, 2010
Filed Under Daily, Family | 11 Comments
So the other day, I was in the living room at my mom’s house taking a picture of something for the Daily Style section of this site, when my mom was all, “Aw! You remember that! It’s so pretty!” and I was like yeah, “[MIL] gave it to me” and she was all, “No she didn’t” and I was like, “Mmm. Pretty sure she did” and my mom goes, “No, my cousin gave it to you. Remember the one who wanted you to marry her grandson?” and I was all, “What? I do not remember that.”
You Guys, I remember now.
Let me tell you what happened.
Like, six years ago, this elderly lady (my mom’s cousin, or “cousin” — who knows in Indian culture) came to visit my mom. I was home from college for a weekend, and briefly met this relative of my mom’s. We chatted for a little bit, and at some point I probably got her a glass of water, and next thing you know she goes up to my mom, and is like, “Oooohhhh, I want Sabrina to marry my grandson!” to which my mom responded, “Aww. Well, she’s not really interested in getting married right now,” but the lady was all persistent like, “Please just talk to her,” so my mom pulled me into the kitchen later that weekend, and was like, “Sabrina, do you want to marry a boy who lives in Canada who’s my cousin’s son?” and I was like, “No thanks,” and that was the end of that.
Besides, by that time, The Boss and I were total besties, and he had already started to decorate my world with his spectacularness. He taught me so much during our friendship that I used him as the new Man Standard in my life. And then, in an unexpected turn of events, which only repeatedly proves that God’s planning always best, I married The Standard Setter himself, three years later.
Life is always full of beautiful surprises.
So my mom and I are remembering this story, and she’s like, “Yeah she really liked you for her grandson,” and I’m like, “She doesn’t even know me!” and my mom goes, “Yeah, but she knows me,” and I’m all, “So?” and she’s like, “Sometimes that’s all that matters. A person knows and trusts the parents, so they feel like their kids will be good people, too” and I was all, “That is a crazed and backwards thought process! That poor boy in Canada! I could be a LUNATIC for all he knows!” and my mom looked at me all, COULD BE? and I’m like, “THAT’S exactly what I’m talking about.”
You Guys! That mentality is all, Divorce rates for $2,000 Alex…
Question: Why do people’s marriages fall apart?
BRM! BRM!
Sabrina.
What is…marrying someone because you like their mom?
Correct, for $2,000!
I would never marry someone based on someone else. That’s like looking at a skinny girl and buying a size 2, when you know that you’re a size 8. It doesn’t make any sense. I’m not against arranged marriages because when done properly, they’re like blind dates. It’s like an “arranged to meet” kind of thing. If the couple doesn’t click, they go their separate ways, but if they do, they meet again, share ideas, family stories, life goals, and next thing you know they’re married, and living together happily ever after. It’s like a fairy tale, except not because no one’s skin is really that good, nor is their jaw line that sharp, and you’d have to have ribs removed to have a waist that little.
But I digress…
So my mom and I are talking, and I’m like, “That lady is such a bad grandma!” and my mom is all, “Don’t say that, she’s my cousin!” and I’m like, “Well, I’m sorry, but your cousin is a bad grandma. You can’t just marry your grandson off to a complete stranger! That is MAN OPPRESSION!” And then my mom was all, “Sabrina, don’t be so dramatic. She just thought you were a nice girl. Her grandson may not even have liked you anyway,” and I’m like, “EXACTLY MY POINT!”
You Guys! Mimmi would NEVER have done that to me! Why? Oh, no reason…other than SHE WAS AWESOME. But you know who would do that? A BAD GRANDMA.
Oh my God. Who would repeatedly call a sweet elderly lady who just wants her grandson to be happy a ‘Bad Grandma?’
A LUNATIC, THAT’S WHO!
When my mom told her cousin that I wasn’t looking to get married, the lady still gifted me with these beautiful decorative prayer beads, which is what I was taking pictures of the other day before my mom forced my hand, and made me start name calling the elderly. I absolutely love these beads, but looking back now, I’m wondering if this was Bad Grandma’s last ditch attempt to get me to meet her grandson.
I’ll give you these pimped out prayer beads if you marry my grandbaby…
You can’t bribe a person into marrying someone.
That’s offensive.
Besides, it’s not even like she offered me chocolate cake.
There should totally be a cash prize for a guy this awesome
Posted on March 10, 2010
Filed Under Daily, Life With The Boss | 8 Comments
On the phone with The Boss:
Me: So then, I have all these pictures, and I’m looking at them, and I’m like…wait a minute. Did I tell you this story already?
The Boss: …
Me: Because I feel like I told you this story already. Did I?
The Boss: Yeah.
Me: Why didn’t you tell me? That’s annoying to hear the same thing again. You should have stopped me.
The Boss: When an episode of “The Office” comes on, and I’ve already seen it, I don’t turn it off. I want to see it again just like I want to hear your story again. I like reruns.
You Guys! He totally compared me to “The Office,” AND he likes to hear me repeat myself.
I dun picked a good one, Internetz! I dun picked a good one.
Calling All Artists…
Posted on March 8, 2010
Filed Under Daily | 3 Comments
Internet, I’m looking for an artist to do some illustrations for the How to Pray section of this site, and I’d like one of you to join me on this project.
For years, my evolving guide on how to pray has been accompanied by stick figures, who finally got clothes, and then eventually looked like real people, and then lost their clothes, and then turned back into stick figures. But the new and up-to-date version “Can I Get a Amen: Learning How to Pray” is people-less, and it’s time to change that. If you, or someone you know, is interested in having your artwork published on this site, here’s how you can be considered:
Draw a picture of a man, and another of a woman who is wearing hijab. (That’s the head cover that Muslim women wear, in case you’re new here.) These should be full-body sketches. Throw your drawings into an e-mail, and send them to: Sabrina@sliceoflemon.com with “how to pray sketches” in the subject line.
I’ll look through all the entries, and maybe even post some of the stuff that really stands out as entries come in. A “winner” will be picked, and announced at the end of this month.
I can’t wait to see what your genius comes up with!
Weekend Snapshots
Posted on March 7, 2010
Filed Under Daily | 8 Comments
A mini Oakton reunion, Reston Town Center:
bff Tina
Mark
Emily
Eyang
Nrupa
<3,
Me.
The Beatles are Back: Excitement Levels May Vary
Posted on March 5, 2010
Filed Under Daily, Family | 6 Comments
Before I flew home, I contacted some of my close friends and family to let them know I’d be in town, but took special precautions not to let Little BFF and Co. learn about my plans to travel east. I thought it would be fun to surprise them at Sunday Dinner, which has now become Saturday Dinner out here because of the time change, and bed times, but nonetheless, I imagined that I’d show up for dinner, and all the kids would dive toward me like an unruly group of screaming girls at a Beatles’ concert.
In case you didn’t know, I’m kind of like The Beatles around here.
I walked into my mom’s house Saturday evening, and as I waited for a red carpet to come rolling from beneath my feet, and some sort of celebratory music to play overhead (I envisioned graduation music) nothing happened.
The group stood frozen.
One of my cousins was even squinting.
It took about three full seconds until someone actually noticed me (had it been longer my self-esteem might have been mildly affected) and of course that someone was Little BFF.
“Sibby! It’s REALLY you!” she yelled as she ran into my arms.
Of course it was really me.
Little BFF is way to smart to hug an impostor.
It took another few seconds for the rest of the gang to realize that I, The Beetles, was in fact standing there — right before their very eyes, and then one by one the kids came at me running and screaming, and we hugged and kissed, and then there was more screaming, also some dancing, and I think there might have been drool involved.
What? I was excited.
With Little BFF turning 9 in May, she understands the concept of time (as in, she understands that it’s been five months since the last time I was home) but I wasn’t sure if Little Punk, and Punk Brother even knew what “time” meant. Somewhere in the midst of the little rats trying to fill me in on EVERY.SINGLE.DETAIL of their lives, from dentist appointments to their newest toy, I managed to grab Punk Brother, put him in my lap, and ask, “Do you understand the concept of time?” He shook his head ‘No’ so I go, “Do you know how long it’s been since you’ve seen me?” he thought about it and goes, “Yes. I think one year” and then he gave me a hug.
Internet, I melted.
Then I threw him off my lap gently moved him to the side, grabbed Little Punk, and go, “Do you know how long it’s been since you’ve seen me? and she goes, “Mmm…six days.”
Apparently, The Beatles didn’t have the same effect on everyone.
