HERstory

We are what we write.

Said pingpong:

Could we have some sort of "Introduce yourself" thread that is always kept open where we can all give basic info (A/S/L or equivalent) that newbies and lurkers can check as a resource? Speaking as a recent delurker myself (about 30 days), I would have found that very useful to keep a clear mental image of regular posters. [sm]

Splendid idea, old bean. I've toyed with the idea of hosting a "virtual meetup", if only so we can introduce ourselves to each other.  The "getting to know you...getting to know alllll about you" which once happened organically no longer occurs as easily, now that SM is no longer tiny.  It's harder to get a sense of whom you are conversing with; even the most dedicated F5-punchers, who read nearly every comment on every thread, even they can't synthesize disparate details quickly enough...which leads to less relating and understanding and diminishes the goodness. 

I cringe at the whole "A/S/L" acronym because I think it's creepy and trite, but I understand the desire to know more about people whom you are interacting with, on a daily basis!  So, I'm opening a thread here, to let you guys reveal as little or as much information as you'd like.  A space for a mini-bio if you will, to help provide context for your comments...best of all, each comment has a permalink (click the date/time stamp and you'll see a link which leads directly to your comment), so when someone asks about you, you can refer back to your blurb with ease. 

For people like me who freeze with fear at the term "bio" (which is why my shit is always late, when people are putting together programs or other materials for conferences where I am a panelist and the like), I'll make it pottan-proof:

1)  Age

2)  Vhether you are the single?  Or not allowed to mingle?  SepiaMatrimony, here ve come...

3)  Gender

4)  Cities: none of us is where we were born or raised it seems.

5) Queer or not that cool?  (this ain't no heteronormative party, mang)

6) ABD or DBD?

7) Region, i.e. Mallu, Guju, K'diga, Klingon (actually, this question should just be "TamBrahm or not", since they have taken over)

8)  Are you an "alternadesi"?  Or are you one of the noble souls who toils in the medicine, the law, the Iyer banking, the software et al?

9)  Is there any special meaning to your handle, if you choose to comment under one?

10)  And the most important question of all-- DO YOU LIKE THE PIXIES?  Because they're my favorite group and if you don't, I will totally love you a smidgen less.  ;)

Damnit, *now* how am I supposed to trap younger men?

The secret is out.  Meh:

Via Kingsley and, um, Facebook.

Admit it: you've totally social-network-stalked someone before meeting them, too. And you possibly switched your "who viewed me" settings temporarily to accomplish your gumshoe-ing.  I see you baby, typing that thang...typing that thang.

Since some of you are ancient like me, you were probably doing it with Friendster back in 2003.  And wasn't there something annoying called Tribe?  If we're quickly appraising the lot of them, then I never cared for MyAss, either.  Facebook, I initially dismissed, because, you know, I wasn't in college, but now that it's desperately casting its nets outwards among the aged, I'm on it and I like it, despite the fact that nothing helps me feel my creaking joints more keenly or notice my grey hair more thoroughly than this new-fangled facebook thingamabob. ;)

You kids nowadays have it so good...in my day (1993ish), all we had was IRC. And PINE!  Pine, I tell you, Pine!  I still remember the first image I saw on the world wide web.  Eh, I for one, do not fear my dotage.  I feel like I am witnessing something extraordinary and I can't wait for my children to look at me like I'm batshit-crazy when I insist that once upon a time, there WAS no web...

Comment dit-on...?

Rahul's response to this comment from Bernie:

Let's not forget the sex can be just as hot and amazing if you choose to knock boots the first night.

is cute and "inspiring". And the perfect prompt for a Friday. :)

You know what I'd like? A post where everybody can list their favorite euphemisms for doing the horizontal mambo.

Sure. Bonus points for anything desi you can come up with, since I can't conjure a single phrase...how apposite. ;) Euphemism away horndogs language-lovers!

SM's Summer of Love: Ho or No?

This post has been moved here from Sepia Mutiny, where it originally was published.

I'll put up a "What do you really think?"-post here, daily, instead of on SM.

Sorry for the confusion/inconvenience...and welcome!  :D

::

Oh, like I could pass THIS up:

I hear all of you on the drink-buying morass but I want a thread about whether I'd be considered the biggest ho alive for putting out on the first date. How about the second? More respectable?

I'm going through a dry spell and I'm in the mood to cut to the chase. I'm usually reasonably virtuous. Would I be seen as sensual or skanky? Would my amorous inclinations kill any chances of having a real relationship? [sm]

Of course they would, and remember, choose your orifice adventure wisely, so you can still be extra you-know-what, like olive oil...and I don't mean light.

::

When I was in college I was classified as a "ho" not just for being a Dirty Girl (Nothing goes down faster than an anchor!™) but...wait for it...wait for it...

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

...for wearing leather pants.

It was December of 1996 and I was at someone's lame-ass birthday thing in Davis.  I was sick, in the middle of winter.  My then-boyfriend had dropped me off at this Charlie Foxtrot of a night-out via his bike.  So I wore leather pants as well as my helmet. 

And I was told, during a moment I shall never, EVER forget--

@$$#0!#: "Do you want to know why everyone thinks you're a whore?  Look at how you dress."

I looked down at a ribbed turtleneck sweater and aforementioned leather pants, WHICH WERE MY BOYFRIEND'S, by the way, so by no means were they skin-tight.

Me: "But...I was cold."

@$$#0!#: "Hope it was worth ruining what's left of your reputation."

Seriously, I remember this, then I type this and then I think to myself, I wish this were fiction.  You desi kids don't know how good you have it these free and lawless days...

::

We've all done things we regret; we all have rules.  What's the desi or better yet, the sepia rule on gettin' down on the first, second, fiftieth date?  I-bankers (and the straight-haired vomen who love them) want to know. This hiatus is turning out to be a summer of inquiry; Sepia Mutiny '07...all the frivolous and embarrassing questions you always wanted to ask a plethora of over-educated, witty South Asians-- but never had the opportunity to pose. Until now.

Who is SKINNY? [Updated...AGAIN]

I wrote a post this weekend which questioned certain commenters' assertions regarding how “hot Desi girls seem to end up with White guys”.  We discussed that misconception as well as...well, a few dozen other subjects, but that’s natural over the course of 1,349 comments.   

One sub-thread which I followed avidly involved I-bankers and their (for some) elusive prey: the skinny, hyper-maintained, hot brown girl with stick-straight hair. Some of you compassionately responded to your banking brethren, when they plaintively admitted that they weren’t sure where to locate their loins’ fondest desire; instructions, right down to locations, days of the week and yes, auspicious times of day (yo, are we brown or are we BROWN) were offered and happily accepted. 

Much like the original exchange which inspired my post on interracial dating, which is where this comedy of heir-ers was going down, what I noticed was that these weren’t one-off sentiments.  To me, that made them difficult to dismiss. The one word which kept surfacing, repeatedly, insistently, was skinny.

Predictably, evolved mutineers were outraged and immediately broadcasted it; even more predictable than that, the obligatory, “I can’t help it, it’s just what ruins my boxers”- volley occurred, so that there was essentially a stalemate.  Around skinny.  While all of them pondered if it was okay to come out and say that “skinny” was a requirement, and whether such a requiring was nothing to be ashamed of, I was transfixed by something else which was related, but not discussed. What did skinny mean in this context?

To some, Kate Moss defines skinny.  To others, the woman who is pictured on our left qualifies.

I like to know exactly what I’m offended by, before I gift someone with a new orifice, so I couldn’t get my outrage-on-- not until this question was answered.  Yes, yes...we should all eschew superficial everything and it’s terrible that we’re judging female books by their covers, but it’s also a gross reality.  And I wanted to know how realistic these I(yer) bankers were.

There was another snag—we were discussing Manhattan.  It’s a rarified world and understandably, the benchmarks are different.  Everything is relative (and apparently, if you are an Iyengar reading SM, YOU are all relatives...oy, how I wish that I could actually link to relevant comments from MY OWN POST, which would make my attempts at wit successful vs. inscrutable). 

In most cities, D.C. included, my 450 sq ft studio is tiny.  In Manhattan, my friend is thrilled to have that much space for her ONE-BEDROOM.  In most cities, making six figures is awesome.  In Manhattan, it barely affords the afore-mentioned shoe-box, rent-wise and that’s if you limit your methods for self-intoxicating to PBR (note: life is too short for PBR, my darlinks).  Anyway, if everything is tougher, better, more competitive, more expensive and more EVERYTHING in Manhattan, then...do brown guys expect brown girls to be skinnier, too?  And does skinny mean fit?  Or just skinny?

My guy friends (the unManhattanites, if you will...I’m not counting the Murray Hill dwellers et al for the purposes of this fluffy post) would line up giddily for a shot at the gorgeous girl above.  Would our I(yengar) bankers?  I think we have a bit of a vested interest in all this; the majority of the Desi vomen whom I am privileged to know are curvaceous, if they’re out of their teens.  For most men, that’s a good thing.  My male buddies don’t like straight lines—on the roads they’re about to break laws on or...uh...you know. 

Curves are good.  Right?  Left?  Those are definitely curves, on the left.

So, as I said memorably (and almost 1,700 comments ago!), out with it then.  Let’s have the truth.  What do you want?  Is the woman I’ve wrapped this post around zaftig or is she just right?  Err, left?  You know what I mean.  And this ain’t no heteronormative joint.  I’ll be the first to tell you that she could inspire me to discover a love that dare not speak its naam. ;) What about you?   

Happy Birthday :)

Happy Birthday :), originally uploaded by suitablegirl.

I love my 29-years-old-as-of-today little sister. 

Oh, happy day, when my only sibling was born, thus guaranteeing that for the rest of my life, I'd have someone else to blame when Mom asked, "WHO DID THIS?"

Ah, good times.  :)

Please Help Us Find Committed Donors.

And if you want to put this banner up on your site/MySpace whatever:

<a href="http://www.helpvinay.org/"><img src="http://www.seshu.net/vinay/helpvinay_skyscraper2.jpg" alt="Vinay Chakravarthy" width="125" height="600" border="0"/></a>

I Got to be on NPR Again!

I was on WNYC's "The Brian Lehrer Show" this morning, to discuss Barack Obama, a stupid, caustic memo and Indian Americans and voting.

The Brian Lehrer Show is a two-hour weekday talk show covering local and national current events and social issues hosted by Brian Lehrer, a former anchor and reporter for NBC Radio Network. [wiki]

I didn't realize that they were going to take callers, but hey...what fun is life without surprises? ;) For a life-long NPR fan like me, getting invited on the program was extra fantastic. WNYC is one of the most-listened-to public radio stations in the country, so I'm not being insincere when I type that my brief spot on the show made me feel privileged.

For those of you who inquired about hearing it, et voila:

Download anna_on_brian_lehrer_wnyc_re_obama.mp3

I don't get paid or otherwise compensated for blogging and especially recently, it didn't seem like doing so was worth my time or the risk to my emotional health, not when people were setting up hate sites and attacking my friends and family. 

But. 

Once a year or so, I get to do something like this and I feel uber-lucky. :) And then anonymous attacks, no matter how vicious and unwarranted, well, they don't seem to matter when I feel this blissed.

Stalk and Judge, Much?

I'm in Florida, to be with my sister during what is a rather difficult time for her-- those of you who need to know what is going on with her already do, those of you who don't need to know, don't.  Contrary to troll-ular belief, my entire life is not lived online and beyond that, like any decent human, I take the privacy of my loved ones seriously.

::

After taking her to church to receive communion per our Mother's request, little seester asked if I'd be willing to go to the nearby outlet mall to take her mind off of sad, heavy things.  Now what sane girl says no to shopping-as-therapy?  Especially when it's her only sibling doing the requesting?

Later that evening, someone ill left the following comment for the over-burdened SM Intern to ban and delete:

Anna-
Quite bizarre...I saw you at the outlet malls today. Why the f* were you wearing a sundress and a straw hat to go outlet shopping? Whatever, you had two people following you around...another way to get attention I suppose.

Nice.  Because obviously, I didn't do anything else that day besides go to that shopping plaza for 90 minutes, not that it's anyone's business what I wear or don't.  I love hats when it's this sunny, donning one is easier than sporting sunglasses, which irritate my poor allergy-beleaguered nose this time of year.

       

What strikes me about this comment-- besides the unnecessary cruelty and judgmental bullshit-- is how certain people love to take a tiny segment of my life and stretch it out for their petty purposes or because that's how small their minds and hearts are or whatever...until that picture distorts and becomes a caricature, of me, of my reality.

What strikes me about this comment-- besides the unnecessary cruelty and judgmental bullshit-- is how certain people love to take a tiny segment of my life and stretch it out for their petty purposes or because that's how small their minds and hearts are or whatever...until that picture distorts and becomes a caricature, of me, of my reality.

Whether they read my blog posts (which I have always maintained cover no more than 20% of my life) or see me for all of two minutes in Memorial Day crowds, that nano-sliver of information they cherry-pick is all that is required to condemn me.

What if it hadn't been me?  I don't think it would have mattered.  They didn't even consider that solid possibility because they were too excited to insult and degrade me via the last post I wrote for SM.  I can't imagine such a twisted, hatred-saturated thought process but I'm going to try, because it's better than contemplating how much time this unbalanced person spent following me and my family around, in order to ascertain if the two inches of face showing underneath a rather large hat belonged to me.  I may not be perfect or pleasant or pretty by your standards, but I deserve more than this. Anyone would.

I am Anna, not Natasha.

...but thanks for confusing me with someone who makes bank, who is going to HBS next year, yet who has unfortunate taste in handbags. I wrote about Natasha over on Sepia Mutiny but apparently all Indian girls look alike to clue-free anonymous trolls on "prestigious discussion boards"; to those of you who attempted to point out that she and I are not one and the same, thank you extra much.

Hope this picture clarifies things for those of you from AutoAdmit.com who came here in search of photographic proof of my ugliness-- in fact, you can even enlarge the image above by clicking on it.  Thank you, come again.