Happy Monday = R.I.P weekend
It was Superbowl weekend, and even though Niners lost– it was probably the best football game I’ve ever watched.
Jim Harbaugh proved that I have more in common with an NFL coach than I thought possible.
So this post is partially an ode to Jim Harbaugh, who perfectly embodies the frustrated and helpless younger sibling in all of us.
In an earlier post, Farrah Joon talked about her take on dominating in the bedroom…and how it’s a lot better, when the guy takes control. And to borrow a quote from the lovely lady that I think described her point definition of “DOMINATING”:
“HE TOOK CONTROL AND HE GAVE IT TO ME THE WAY HE KNEW I WOULD LIKE IT.” - Fifty Shades of Joon
And really, its true…while it may vary from girl to girl, almost all women like it when the man exercises some control. And without passing judgment, I have to ask:
Why? Why do we like it when a man plays the Dominant to our Submissive?
The ‘S’ word may be a dirty one, but deep down, every bad b*tch wants an equally (or more) powerful male to pin her down and give it to her good. [Read more...]
2012 is winding down, and I almost can’t believe it. How does time fly? New Years is always an appropriate time for reflection (cliche but inevitable) and I’ve been thinking more about myself, 10 years ago… It might be because my Pandora is set to 90s music? But when you’re 18, you can’t really reflect on what it was like when you were 8. Now I’m at that age, where I remember what it was like 10, 8, 5 years ago. I remember why I thought the way I did, and why I did the things I did. And with all those memories– I can’t help but feel weird. Is that what happens when you get old– your younger self starts to become a bigger shadow?
Jeez, can I please not get old? #fountainofyouth
Anyway, the more I think about Saaghi circa early 2000s, I realize I haven’t confessed something that really haunted/dogged me for most of those years: My Body.
It’s no secret that Persians are very vocal about weight — “topol” (chubby) is a word that’s just tossed around, almost endearingly, but for a 13 year old girl– that word is damaging.
At least that’s how I felt about it. As a kid, I was never aware of what my body looked like to others. But when I hit puberty, and I had chipmunk cheeks, I was growing boobs, and I was all sorts of awkward–well, I became very aware of what my body looked like from the outside.
People’s comments only reinforced my insecurities and by the time I got to high school, I had also eaten my insecurities. [Read more...]
Here’s something that made my week: the fact that my friends want me to dress up as Bert for Halloween. My question is,
Which Persian girl puts on a unibrow, voluntarily?
I thought bad eyebrows were like bad noses, you get rid of them and deny deny deny you ever had one? Or is the UNI in now? Someone fill me in.
Anyway, my grandparents were in town for awhile, all the way from eeRAN, and aside from lots of lavashak and pistachios, they bring a suitcase full of “Naseehat” (guidance from elders).
The problem with that is, I hate NASEEHAT. I’m comfortable enough with my parents to stop them before they get ahead with all their ‘guidance’ lectures–’Dad, the decibel level of your voice annoys me‘. But with my grandparents, I can’t be so direct. I have to swallow my pride, and smile, and nod–as if I’m actually going to take what they say into consideration.
Do you see how immature and stubborn I am?
But, in my defense, as I’ve… aged… I’ve gotten better at identifiying the ‘GOOD Naseehat‘ from the ‘OBNOXIOUS Naseehat’. Especially now that I’m out on my own, with my own bills and finances and Adult-ness,
I know I can’t learn everything the hard way– cause if I do, it’ll end with bad credit, a mug shot, and an ‘I TOLD YOU SO’. [Read more...]
Been dealing with some major writer’s block lately — so much to say, but so hard to process my thoughts. I blame responsibility. But I guess that’s just a part of growing up #overrated.
I feel like I’m starting to see the world so differently these days (I swear I’m not high) compared to a year ago — it’s not all sunshine, people aren’t all good, taxes are f#cking hard (I’m going to get married only to ensure I have someone who will do my taxes for free… thank you Daddy).
I used to be an idealist… optimistic. I used to think that people in general had good intentions — but then I became a realist.
When I was younger – I never really felt pressure by my parents that I had to be an example. That expectation to be well-intentioned, moral, smart, successful – all these things didn’t really hit me until college.
When I was younger, my role models were Belle from Beauty and the Beast because she loved to read, and Jasmine (Aladdin) because she was the closest Disney princess to Persian (and I really wanted a pet tiger and to live in a castle).
Unfortunately, real life isn’t the same as a Disney movie otherwise by now, I would have become queen of the world with four sexy male concubines to do all my chores for me (as well as other things). Oh wait… Disney probably wouldn’t be down with that… #sexism.
I am the oldest sibling and the oldest out of my cousins. While it was never explicitly said, you know how Irooni parents are — you better be someone they can be damn proud of.
I never took that responsibility seriously. I just always wanted to do whatever I wanted. Whether that was get wasted at a random frat party or ditch class or make out with some guy I didn’t know.
I never thought my careless decisions would somehow define me and affect my relationships. [Read more...]
Holla for dollas.
Its been awhile, maybe because I’m on a family ‘vacation’ a.k.a ‘Not-a-vacation‘
(there are absolutely no Iranians where I am, or black people)
I know the past few posts may make me sound like I hate my family, but lately, I’ve been suffocated with so much FAMILY that I keep getting flashbacks of scarring memories from my childhood– and I just need to air it out on the therapists’couch I call #SEXANDFESSENJOON.
You see, I’ve been blessed with a great family. They truly are the three C’s: caring, compassionate…and CRAZY.
Each of them are CHARACTERS. Each with their own exclusive problem-OCD, ADD, ANXIETY, ALL OF THE ABOVE- and each with their own exclusive way of ‘communication’. Its truly an Irooni- Wes Anderson movie. I’ll leave ‘character bios’ for another post, maybe it is time you joonies MET THE FAMILY (omg, are we there yet? such a huge step).
For now, let me tell you a bit about PERSIAN Family Vacations: SAAGHI style.
I hate them. Absolutely dread them like Herpes. and each one I’ve gone on, I have vowed it would be my last (ACTUALLY, we all vow it will be our last)– but of course, we get guilt tripped into the next one.
My experience has taught me one important lesson: Never leave home without earplugs and xanax.
Hope everyone had a great fourth of July- and if your family is anything like mine, there was probably some fessenjoon involved or in our specific case- CHICKEN KABOB. #I’mafattie
I decided to take a vacation this week and come out to the WEST COAST (best coast) to visit the family… and as always, whenever I come to visit…
I am filled with guilt, stress and nostalgia– the Persian formula for family time.
Hey joooonie joons,
Hope everyone had an awesome weekend. I was visiting the fambam this weekend for vacation. I always love going home for some major relaxation time, good food, quality family time, catching up with old friends, etc.
I send my desired menu to my mother a week in advance and the food is miraculously ready the second I demand it. My dad takes me shopping to get clothes for the “upcoming season.” My brother and I spend time together talking and being goofy. It’s just awesome.
Yeah. Fucking. Right.
I had a revelation this weekend. [Read more...]