The dotted line is where the lipstick should end. But, apparently, she is dead set on looking like Dina Martina. I promise you: This has nothing to do with her being Persian.
Yes.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Ghetto GG & Poor Man's Kim Kardashian
To begin with, since I never reviewed last week's episode of "Shahs of Sunset," I would like to take a moment to ruminate on MJ's mother's lipstick-applying skills.
The dotted line is where the lipstick should end. But, apparently, she is dead set on looking like Dina Martina. I promise you: This has nothing to do with her being Persian.
The dotted line is where the lipstick should end. But, apparently, she is dead set on looking like Dina Martina. I promise you: This has nothing to do with her being Persian.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Shahs Are Back!
All right guys, I am sincerely SINCERELY sorry, but I didn't get a chance to see the first episode of "Shah's of Sunset--Season 2" until last night. Shameful, I know.
I continue to be mesmerized.
Asa admitted to burying "$30,000 worth of gold coins" in the cement in front of her mansion doorway. MJ's mother doesn't know how to apply lipstick and, every time I look at her, I think of Dina Martina. GG has never held a job and, every time she opens her mouth, she stutters like she's about to cry a la Sally Struthers on a Christian Children's Fund commercial circa 1980s. Reza has a new friend, Persian Barbie Lilly. There's also a new guy named Omid who has a really obnoxious laugh and is clearly closeted. And, the best parts--as usual--are the parts where the extended family rear their Persian heads: There's a nasty fight with MJ's family! There's a nasty fight between GG and her pregnant sister! We Persians love our family feuds. Drama, all the way!
Anyway, no screen shots this time. No further analysis, but I will be back next Tuesday with a full review of the second episode. I'm having kind of a low week.
In other news, my father is going to D.C. on business this week, and he is taking all of my applications for a renewed Iranian passport to the Iranian embassy (or the "Interests Section" of the Pakistani embassy--whatever they want to call it). After the debacle with my identity papers (it took more than a year to get them back), we're not risking going the mail route anymore. Hopefully the passport renewal doesn't take that long and I will finally be on my way to Iran... after first having the idea now almost two years ago.
I continue to be mesmerized.
Asa admitted to burying "$30,000 worth of gold coins" in the cement in front of her mansion doorway. MJ's mother doesn't know how to apply lipstick and, every time I look at her, I think of Dina Martina. GG has never held a job and, every time she opens her mouth, she stutters like she's about to cry a la Sally Struthers on a Christian Children's Fund commercial circa 1980s. Reza has a new friend, Persian Barbie Lilly. There's also a new guy named Omid who has a really obnoxious laugh and is clearly closeted. And, the best parts--as usual--are the parts where the extended family rear their Persian heads: There's a nasty fight with MJ's family! There's a nasty fight between GG and her pregnant sister! We Persians love our family feuds. Drama, all the way!
Anyway, no screen shots this time. No further analysis, but I will be back next Tuesday with a full review of the second episode. I'm having kind of a low week.
In other news, my father is going to D.C. on business this week, and he is taking all of my applications for a renewed Iranian passport to the Iranian embassy (or the "Interests Section" of the Pakistani embassy--whatever they want to call it). After the debacle with my identity papers (it took more than a year to get them back), we're not risking going the mail route anymore. Hopefully the passport renewal doesn't take that long and I will finally be on my way to Iran... after first having the idea now almost two years ago.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
The inevitable HURRICANE post
For the first time since Hurricane Sandy, I left Manhattan island yesterday to visit Ryan and his fiancee in Astoria, Queens. The cabbie told me an awful tale of waiting seven hours in line the previous night to get gas and the gas running out before he got any. I felt bad for making him drive all the way to Queens. But I had been standing there for 20 minutes and this was the first cab I could find, and I had to get out. I didn't know what to do with myself anymore. I was overwhelmed by an inexplicable fatigue and it was all I could do to drag myself out. I needed to talk someone, see someone, anyone.
In Queens, it was as if nothing had occurred at all. We walked to a local restaurant and had dinner. I told my tale of the past week for the first time and I realized that telling the story was somehow cathartic. As I told it though, I found I couldn't keep the days straight. The whole ordeal has felt like one very, very long day. I can't believe it's been a week. All sense of time has been lost. I hope that by writing this down, I can at once expunge this restless feeling, process this, and remember it later all at once.
In Queens, it was as if nothing had occurred at all. We walked to a local restaurant and had dinner. I told my tale of the past week for the first time and I realized that telling the story was somehow cathartic. As I told it though, I found I couldn't keep the days straight. The whole ordeal has felt like one very, very long day. I can't believe it's been a week. All sense of time has been lost. I hope that by writing this down, I can at once expunge this restless feeling, process this, and remember it later all at once.
Monday, October 22, 2012
It's Finally Here!!
The last I heard about my Iranian birth certificate was that my father's cousin in Iran had gone to the office in Tehran to inquire what happened to it (it's been over a year since I first applied with my old papers that were no longer legal). He found out that it had been sitting there waiting for a bribe. How were we supposed to know?! If you really want a bribe, at least let us know that we need to bribe you! I'm not sure what happened next (certainly no money left my pocket), but last week, we got a FedEx notice that something was en route to my father's address (note: nowhere on my application did I ever include my father's address, but this has happened before: where the Iranian government has gone above my head to make a point that my father is my keeper). We had the FedEx shipment diverted. So... yesterday, I got a thin envelope in the mail...
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
The symbol of America's individualism is... Persian.
He's Persian.
He's the same age as me.
He went to the UW and was in the same department my dad graduated from.
Must. Activate. Persian. Network. Stat. lol
He's the same age as me.
He went to the UW and was in the same department my dad graduated from.
Must. Activate. Persian. Network. Stat. lol
Monday, August 6, 2012
Now You Know Why
I’m sorry for the long hiatus, dear readers. I
have no excuse except to say that I was going through the oldest ill of
humankind: heartbreak. But I think I’ve emerged from the tunnel now and am
fully re-focused on getting to Iran. I saw my dad a few weeks ago and he said
he had visited the Interests Section of the Islamic Republic in D.C. when he
was on a work trip there, and he inquired about the status of my papers that
have seemingly disappeared into the ether. He has also sent distant cousins to
check the offices in Tehran. He seemed optimistic and said I should have my
papers within a month. I am more doubtful than that.
In other news, I recently randomly decided to get a DNA test. I swabbed the inside of my cheeks and sent it off to the lab. Strangely enough, the results reveal that Iran shows up as #8 in the list of countries that match my DNA. What?! For as far as anyone can remember on both sides of my family, we've always been from Iran. That's the great thing about DNA, I guess: that you can go way far back, to before people can remember.
So what what was the #1 country that my DNA matched? Get this: Kuwait. Well, it makes sense. Kuwait is just across the Persian Gulf. Either some Kuwaitis came to Iran and banged my ancestors, or my Iranian ancestors went to Kuwait and became sexually popular. It's still weird either way. Oh, and this is weird too: I share a significant amount of DNA with modern-day people in... Spain. Again, this makes sense because, as we know, people from the Middle East conquered Spain back in the 700s. Also, Columbus (who was a Spaniard) first landed in modern-day Puerto Rico when he "discovered" America. Which is why, yes... I also share DNA with Puerto Ricans. I've been told I look Puerto Rican and Spanish before. As bizarre as it is, now I know why.
So what what was the #1 country that my DNA matched? Get this: Kuwait. Well, it makes sense. Kuwait is just across the Persian Gulf. Either some Kuwaitis came to Iran and banged my ancestors, or my Iranian ancestors went to Kuwait and became sexually popular. It's still weird either way. Oh, and this is weird too: I share a significant amount of DNA with modern-day people in... Spain. Again, this makes sense because, as we know, people from the Middle East conquered Spain back in the 700s. Also, Columbus (who was a Spaniard) first landed in modern-day Puerto Rico when he "discovered" America. Which is why, yes... I also share DNA with Puerto Ricans. I've been told I look Puerto Rican and Spanish before. As bizarre as it is, now I know why.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Look At Those Thick-Ass Legs!
On this week's Shah's of Sunset...
MJ goes on a "blind" date, in which her great friend Sammy sets her up with an old ex. Way to go Sams! MJ's date, Navin, is really into her and wants to make it up. So he pins her to an armchair and professes his love.
He whispers sweet nothings.
And he reveals his sensitive side.
My girl MJ does what any self-respecting thick-assed leggy woman would do.
She picks up those gold spike-heels and RUNS.
MJ goes on a "blind" date, in which her great friend Sammy sets her up with an old ex. Way to go Sams! MJ's date, Navin, is really into her and wants to make it up. So he pins her to an armchair and professes his love.
He whispers sweet nothings.
And he reveals his sensitive side.
My girl MJ does what any self-respecting thick-assed leggy woman would do.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Persian Style
Before I re-cap Sunday's episode of "Shah's of Sunset," I have to take a moment and ruminate on one of Asa's recent interview outfits:
But at least Asa stuck with her original schnoz. We can't say as much about GG, the resident Mean Girl. It's clear from her "before" and "after" pics, that she underwent the routine Persian Nose Job (pretty much standard for all Persian chicks--no, I never got one).
GG: Before
Sweet girl with peach fuzz.
So she's a little busted, but aren't we all?
GG: After
The Wrath of "GG" and her modified nose, post-laser-hair-removal.
What's up with the turban, girl? And that awful thing around your neck? If you're trying to tap your inner Persian--please!--for the love of all things good, veil yourself. This heinous outfit makes Asa look like she's peddling $5 fortune readings. To those who know nothing about traditional Persian dress: Please ignore this. Also, we do not have flying carpets.
But at least Asa stuck with her original schnoz. We can't say as much about GG, the resident Mean Girl. It's clear from her "before" and "after" pics, that she underwent the routine Persian Nose Job (pretty much standard for all Persian chicks--no, I never got one).
GG: Before
Sweet girl with peach fuzz.
GG: After
The Wrath of "GG" and her modified nose, post-laser-hair-removal.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Bad Muslim
I didn't get a chance to watch Shah's of Sunset last night... but never fear! It's queued up to watch tonight and I will be back here tomorrow to let you know what I think.
What was I doing instead of watching my beloved trashy TV shows? I WAS EATING MATZAH LIKE THE BAD MUSLIM THAT I AM. Yes, that's right, I attended my first Passover. My Jewish boyfriend's parents invited me to join them. It was actually really nice. We had dinner with his family Friday night, and then an even bigger meal on Passover Saturday, and then we had a brunch on Sunday. Needless to say, my digestive tract will never be the same because--unbeknownst to me--matzah causes severe constipation. Forget about the 40 years of hunger it took for the Jews to escape Egypt, I'm thinking of 40 years of constipation. Those poor Jews! That is some serious remembrance I can get behind.
It was the numerous courses of food that did me in though. I kept thinking dinner was over, but then another course would come out. I haven't been in the dark about a tradition since the first bewildering time I was invited to a friend's house for dinner and they said grace. First, candles were lit, Hebrew words were said (that I remembered from my old best friend's batmitzvah!), then there was some stuff about goading M's 4-year old niece to hide a piece of matzah. We sat around and broke pieces of matzah and buttered them and ate them with chopped liver. Then there was salad. Then there was matzah ball soup. I thought dinner was done at this point, but I was informed that now dinner was only about to be served. There was brisket, chicken, and twice-cooked potatoes. Afterwards, we sat around and ate jelly rings and other kosher desserts. But, by far, my favorite part was when M's mom busted out a bowl of chopped bacon for our salad. Yes, they're my kind of Jews.
Saturday seder was the same meal but bigger and with more family members and nicer cutlery, and we actually went around the table and read the story of Passover from little booklets. Instead of dipping our finger in cups of wine after reading about each plague, we dipped our finger in diet coke (see what I mean? my kind of Jews!). On Sunday, brunch was matzoh "brie" (not the cheese), which was like french toast with matzah instead. It was all delicious.
Passover reminds me a lot of Ramadan. The meaning behind Passover is really very beautiful--it's about remembering that slavery and persecution should never be tolerated in any form for anybody. The Abrahamic religions are all really so similar in their core beliefs. It's a shame that politics have sullied the central messages and pitted us against each other. Really, the way my mom sneaks bacon into our meals and M's mom sneaks bacon into theirs should bond us together. Or maybe that just makes us bad Muslims and Jews. Haram! Every Persian Muslim should fall for a Jew. The pre-nups would be out of this world!
What was I doing instead of watching my beloved trashy TV shows? I WAS EATING MATZAH LIKE THE BAD MUSLIM THAT I AM. Yes, that's right, I attended my first Passover. My Jewish boyfriend's parents invited me to join them. It was actually really nice. We had dinner with his family Friday night, and then an even bigger meal on Passover Saturday, and then we had a brunch on Sunday. Needless to say, my digestive tract will never be the same because--unbeknownst to me--matzah causes severe constipation. Forget about the 40 years of hunger it took for the Jews to escape Egypt, I'm thinking of 40 years of constipation. Those poor Jews! That is some serious remembrance I can get behind.
It was the numerous courses of food that did me in though. I kept thinking dinner was over, but then another course would come out. I haven't been in the dark about a tradition since the first bewildering time I was invited to a friend's house for dinner and they said grace. First, candles were lit, Hebrew words were said (that I remembered from my old best friend's batmitzvah!), then there was some stuff about goading M's 4-year old niece to hide a piece of matzah. We sat around and broke pieces of matzah and buttered them and ate them with chopped liver. Then there was salad. Then there was matzah ball soup. I thought dinner was done at this point, but I was informed that now dinner was only about to be served. There was brisket, chicken, and twice-cooked potatoes. Afterwards, we sat around and ate jelly rings and other kosher desserts. But, by far, my favorite part was when M's mom busted out a bowl of chopped bacon for our salad. Yes, they're my kind of Jews.
Saturday seder was the same meal but bigger and with more family members and nicer cutlery, and we actually went around the table and read the story of Passover from little booklets. Instead of dipping our finger in cups of wine after reading about each plague, we dipped our finger in diet coke (see what I mean? my kind of Jews!). On Sunday, brunch was matzoh "brie" (not the cheese), which was like french toast with matzah instead. It was all delicious.
Passover reminds me a lot of Ramadan. The meaning behind Passover is really very beautiful--it's about remembering that slavery and persecution should never be tolerated in any form for anybody. The Abrahamic religions are all really so similar in their core beliefs. It's a shame that politics have sullied the central messages and pitted us against each other. Really, the way my mom sneaks bacon into our meals and M's mom sneaks bacon into theirs should bond us together. Or maybe that just makes us bad Muslims and Jews. Haram! Every Persian Muslim should fall for a Jew. The pre-nups would be out of this world!
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Telling time
The other day, my dad told me that if I end up marrying a Jew, I'll probably never be allowed into Iran again. I laughed it off. After all, the Islamic Republic has pretty much taken away my Iranian passport with no news of giving it back to me anyway--it's been almost a year since I applied!! What do I DO in this situation?!?!?! All I want is to go back to Iran one last freaking time!!!
In the meantime, I have "Shah's of Sunset" to entertain me... They wheel & deal as real estate agents! They get colonics! Their Persian parents have dinner with them! They get mad at each other for showing up late to their parties! The men are male sluts until they decide to "settle down" with nice Persian chicks. They have champagne-drinking parties! They think they're pop stars! Check this out:
In the meantime, I have "Shah's of Sunset" to entertain me... They wheel & deal as real estate agents! They get colonics! Their Persian parents have dinner with them! They get mad at each other for showing up late to their parties! The men are male sluts until they decide to "settle down" with nice Persian chicks. They have champagne-drinking parties! They think they're pop stars! Check this out:
MJ is wearing a watch made by The Persian Jeweler I dated a while back!! LOL! So, here's a fun fact: I recently tried SELLING the diamond watch The Jeweler gifted me. I posted on ebay for seven days for less than half of what it was worth and... not even a single bid. #FAIL Apparently, nobody wants a ten-pound watch with a map of the world emblazoned in diamonds on its face. I wonder why?
Looks like I may have this gaudy unwearable diamond watch for eternity. That's how you know that only a Persian could have designed it.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
"Shah's of Sunset's" MJ is a HOT MESS (a.k.a. We Love Her)
Did you honestly think I had forgotten to update you on "Shah's of Sunset"?! We're only two episodes in but, so far, my favorite character is MJ--officially the Hot Mess of this gem of a reality TV show.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Happy Persian New Year
"Noruz" happened at 1:11a.m. (EST) this morning, according to the lunar calendar. I'm staying at my boyfriend's place this week while he's in London, and he lives near the U.N., so I was not surprised when my alarm woke me up for the New Year and I heard Persians out in the street screaming "Happy New Year!" Only in New York (and only near the U.N.)!
The Christmas tree equivalent for Noruz is called the "haftsin," which is an arrangement of several symbolic items. For my incomplete haftsin, I had gotten a purple hyacinth, two red apples, and a small plot of wheatgrass obtained from a the Union Square farmer's market (I had a hell of a time trying to find wheatgrass last year). I carted all this crap uptown to my boyfriend's loft in a paper Anthropologie bag. The doormen gave me weird looks. I then arranged this sorry state of affairs on the granite bar counter (between a few bottles of liquor--whoops) so that when I woke up in the middle of the night to "celebrate" all by myself in my underwear and glasses, I'd be sitting at the traditional haftsin. The hyacinth and wheatgrass had wilted. I perched on the bar stool and diligently began dialing each of my family members to wish them a happy new year. I was done by 1:20a.m. and promptly passed out. HAPPY NEW YEAR!
The Christmas tree equivalent for Noruz is called the "haftsin," which is an arrangement of several symbolic items. For my incomplete haftsin, I had gotten a purple hyacinth, two red apples, and a small plot of wheatgrass obtained from a the Union Square farmer's market (I had a hell of a time trying to find wheatgrass last year). I carted all this crap uptown to my boyfriend's loft in a paper Anthropologie bag. The doormen gave me weird looks. I then arranged this sorry state of affairs on the granite bar counter (between a few bottles of liquor--whoops) so that when I woke up in the middle of the night to "celebrate" all by myself in my underwear and glasses, I'd be sitting at the traditional haftsin. The hyacinth and wheatgrass had wilted. I perched on the bar stool and diligently began dialing each of my family members to wish them a happy new year. I was done by 1:20a.m. and promptly passed out. HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Shahs of Sunset Premieres
Since "Shah's of Sunset" (the new Ryan Seacrest-produced reality TV show about Persians in L.A.) aired, friends keep pinging me to ask what I think of the first episode.
I'll say the same thing I said about it back when I first heard this show was happening: While the show features the worst of the worst, I still like that it depicts Persians in America. I think people in the U.S. generally have very little understanding that there are Persian-Americans right here, next door, and that we are not all fundamentalists. I hope the show sparks dialogue.
The first episode surprised me. I knew a little bit about what to expect because I know the Persian community, but I had no idea they would be featuring a group of mixed Muslim and Jewish Persians. It's super interesting because I know not a lot of people know that there are a great deal of Persian Jews (the mayor of Beverly Hills is a Persian Jew, as are some crazy percentage of Beverly Hills, CA and Great Neck, NY residents). I just think that if your common moron who watches Fox News knew even this much (that not all Persians are Muslim), it would add that extra layer of complexity to their understanding of what they see on the news. That being said, while I think it's engrossing to watch Persian Jews say "Shabbat Shalom" in Farsi accents, I have never in my life seen Persian Jews and Muslims hang out in a tight clique like that. Maybe this is something common to L.A. specifically, but I've not seen this anywhere else. There was one scene in this episode where they're all having dinner and talking about how a Persian Jew and a Persian Muslim would never get married, and that is very much the idea that I grew up with, but otherwise, the show is really trying hard (maybe too hard) to show how "modern Persians" are different: Already, we see the inkling of a budding romance between the most generically attractive guy (Jewish) and most generically attractive girl (Muslim).
I'll say the same thing I said about it back when I first heard this show was happening: While the show features the worst of the worst, I still like that it depicts Persians in America. I think people in the U.S. generally have very little understanding that there are Persian-Americans right here, next door, and that we are not all fundamentalists. I hope the show sparks dialogue.
The first episode surprised me. I knew a little bit about what to expect because I know the Persian community, but I had no idea they would be featuring a group of mixed Muslim and Jewish Persians. It's super interesting because I know not a lot of people know that there are a great deal of Persian Jews (the mayor of Beverly Hills is a Persian Jew, as are some crazy percentage of Beverly Hills, CA and Great Neck, NY residents). I just think that if your common moron who watches Fox News knew even this much (that not all Persians are Muslim), it would add that extra layer of complexity to their understanding of what they see on the news. That being said, while I think it's engrossing to watch Persian Jews say "Shabbat Shalom" in Farsi accents, I have never in my life seen Persian Jews and Muslims hang out in a tight clique like that. Maybe this is something common to L.A. specifically, but I've not seen this anywhere else. There was one scene in this episode where they're all having dinner and talking about how a Persian Jew and a Persian Muslim would never get married, and that is very much the idea that I grew up with, but otherwise, the show is really trying hard (maybe too hard) to show how "modern Persians" are different: Already, we see the inkling of a budding romance between the most generically attractive guy (Jewish) and most generically attractive girl (Muslim).
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Happy Anniversary
It's been more than 6 months since I turned in my application to the Iranian Embassy to get my papers updated so I can visit Tehran to get to the bottom of what happened to my grandmother. While they refuse to tell me the status of my application and they have had no correspondence with me (strangely, they send things to my dad instead, in true paternalistic fashion--even though I never sent them my dad's address!), they still have my address. Which is why I got a strange piece of mail the other day. The envelope had already been carefully steamed opened (probably by U.S. Postal Service?). Inside, was a card.
Check out those rockets in the upper left-hand side right under the peace arch!
I opened it up, wondering if the card told me my application had finally gone through.
But it was all in Farsi, and I don't read it. All I could make out was a picture of the Ayatollah Khomeini coming out of a plane.
The only thing in English was written on the back, which is how I found out where it was from.
I took pictures of the card and emailed them to my dad so he could read it for me. Apparently, it's just an anniversary card, celebrating the Islamic Revolution of 1979 (the year I was born). This April, the Iranian Revolution will be 33 years old, and so will I. It's good to know that I am on the mailing list... even if my application has been forever lost in the black hole of bureaucracy.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Happy Valentine's
Last year, in Iran, officials banned the sale of Valentine cards and "other heart-shaped products." This year, selling red roses can land you in jail. Why? Because Valentine's Day is part of the "soft war" in which the West spreads its dreaded culture. Meanwhile, in Iran, I guess the bans are pretty useless because restaurants are booked and the English words "I love you" are printed everywhere.
Why are the mullah's so freaked out about "the spread of Western culture"? I'll tell you why! Because you might end up like me... dating a Jew. This new relationship of mine is somehow at the nexus of a global anxiety. But it only figures, right? You can use me as a litmus test for everything Iran is freaked out about happening to the next generation. Whoops! I'm too far gone to salvage. Consider me a casualty of the soft war. Happy Valentine's, and may you see many heart-shaped products today.
Why are the mullah's so freaked out about "the spread of Western culture"? I'll tell you why! Because you might end up like me... dating a Jew. This new relationship of mine is somehow at the nexus of a global anxiety. But it only figures, right? You can use me as a litmus test for everything Iran is freaked out about happening to the next generation. Whoops! I'm too far gone to salvage. Consider me a casualty of the soft war. Happy Valentine's, and may you see many heart-shaped products today.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Red-tape
Yeesh, this is kind of scary. A 28-year old American (with Iranian parents--like me) was just convicted in Iran of being a spy... all because he was visiting his grandparents in Iran and he happened to be an ex-Marine. The U.S. State Department is demanding his release, but Iran says they're going to execute him.
Meanwhile, in red-tape land... My mom called the embassy again to find out why I haven't gotten my new Iranian papers yet. They told her that they had done "their job" and sent the required forms to Iran and now it was in Iran's hands. She asked if there was some way to ask about the status of the application and they said there was no way to track that information since it was out of their hands already and they had done "their job." So... I guess I just keep waiting. I think it's been over 6 months now.
Meanwhile, in red-tape land... My mom called the embassy again to find out why I haven't gotten my new Iranian papers yet. They told her that they had done "their job" and sent the required forms to Iran and now it was in Iran's hands. She asked if there was some way to ask about the status of the application and they said there was no way to track that information since it was out of their hands already and they had done "their job." So... I guess I just keep waiting. I think it's been over 6 months now.
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