Mission: Semi-Accomplished!

I know I've been incredibly remiss. In my defense, I forget I'm even alive these days, honestly.

Oh, hey, I GOT MY IRANIAN PASSPORT, bitches! My dad went on a business trip to DC and he hand-delivered my application and talked to the embassy in person. They gave him my new passport the same day! Since it is the law in Iran for all single females to have their paperwork done by their fathers, we think that's why this part of the whole process went so quickly. Since, literally, my dad was filing the paperwork in person, they made it happen. If I had mailed it in as a single female, I probably would be waiting another year and, even then, they'd probably only communicate with my father and leave me out of it. Lovely system they have over there. I'm 33 and my dad is my keeper. Hey, at least I finally got my passport (even though it's been almost 2 years since I first started this process!). So now I just have to buy a plane ticket and arrange my schedule so I can go to Iran!

On another note, Shahs of Sunset is finally starting to get good and juicy! The last episode was full of really nasty things that only Persian people would say to each other. Reza has currently set up an alliance with Asa (somebody needs to let them know that this is not Survivor), which means they can control everything, from un-inviting GG to Cabo, to calling MJ a pill-popper. It's really mean and, again, only a turn in events that Persians would plot. I used to think Lilly was harmless... until this episode when she twists all of poor MJs words and makes her into an outcast. Potentially the best part of the episode however was the conversation about "golden penises" ("doodool talah"). It's true that it is totally commonplace for an average family to talk extensively in casual conversation about their sons as Golden Penises. No wonder we have so many asshole men: They were raised to think their dicks are made out of gold.

I am currently going on dates with a Persian I will call "N." It's a long story and I'm not particularly serious about this guy, but it has led to lots of discussion of Shahs of Sunset. Last night, we went to a Persian restaurant with his cousin and I think we talked about Shahs of Sunset for at least half an hour. Mostly, we digressed on how horrified our parents are with the show (all of us have watched the show with our doting mothers). Personally, when I was home during Christmas, I watched with my mother the scene where Reza goes to pick up gay boys at the local club. She started crying about how she sacrificed so much to live in the United States and now the entire world would think this is what Persians were like. It warmed my heart that she cared so much. I know they have casted the scum of the earth for this show, but I still think it's great that Iranian Americans are in pop culture at all, regardless of how they are portrayed. Talking to N's cousin, I asked him what kids in Iran thought of the show so far. He informs me that it hasn't hit Tehran yet, but to check back in a few months. All of us were equally fascinated with figuring out just how scripted the show is also. I still love MJ, no matter how much they try to smear her.

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.

Yes.

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.

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.

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...

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

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.