Persian Dad Wisdom for the Job Hunt

So it looks like I get the joy of writing another end-of-the-week post–and I know on a Thursday, the last thing you want to hear is some NASEEHAT – patronizing advice– so I’ll make this as painless as possible.


Math was always my Dad’s thing. Math and Soccer.

and since I didn’t turn out to be some Brandi Chastain or Mia Hamm, my Dad really tried to amp up my Math skills. He would buy me the next year’s textbook for me to prep over the summer. He tried to push me to “proof” my geometry when I was in 5th grade. Basically, he made himself available in anyway when it came to ARITHMETIC, but I dreaded every single tutoring session with him, because it either ended in tears or some sort of fight.

My dad had a low tolerance for stupid mistakes, and he made it pretty clear that most mistakes were stupid.

I would beg my Mom to help me on my Math homework before my Dad got home. but somehow I always ended up on the couch, in misery as my Dad demanded I do my homework, the extra credit, and assigned me more problems that he would grade.

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So by the time I left High School, I was ready to kiss MATH goodbye!

When I was picking a major in College, my dad wanted me to do Engineering, Math, Stats… you catch my drift… and I was quite content doing anything but.  He threatened to not fund my education, so we met halfway…

Economics.

Long story short, that didn’t quite work out later on (and my dad won’t ever let me forget it). But I did end up taking a whole sequence of Math classes, Stats, and some other sh!t with numbers. Now that I look back, I am so f#cking glad  I did.

and I’ll never admit this to my Dad, but he was right. People who know how to work with Numbers usually get hired faster and get paid more. For a reason. [Read more...]

Vacation with the Crazies

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.

[Read more...]

Dime A Dozen

Hi joonies,

I’ve told you all about my father– his requirements of a presentation detailing why I should be able to take an internship across the country, his lecturing and his need for my success.  But in the spirit of Father’s Day, I decided it’s time to share with you some stories of how special/embarrassing he really is.

I promise this won’t be too sappy

Growing up, I was the epitome of “problem child.”  I lied, snuck off to meet boys, and ditched class like school was nothing but a silly chore.  My dad’s a professor so you can only imagine how frustrated he was with me all the time.

He hired countless tutors in hopes that my failures in science and math (his strengths) would somehow evolve into victory.  Unfortunately, for him: no such luck.

But I was his only daughter and lucky for ME, he refused to give up.   [Read more...]

Now Tell Me That Ain’t Insecure

JOOOOOOONS.

MONDAYYYY.  Let’s get this week started YO.

F*cking hate Mondays #onthereal.

I got an interesting comment on one of my recent posts.

Let me preface this with saying that we welcome ALL comments– if you don’t like what we have to say, we want to hear it… and if you DO like what we have to say, then we LOVE hearing it.  But at the end of the day…

If I’m just being honest…

Anyway, the commentator mentioned that I “must be very insecure” — because obviously when it comes to dating: where I went to school/what job I have plays a huge role.  And they’re right…

Our society and my upbringing played an integral role in my insecurities. [Read more...]

Listen or Die

Hihi jooooonie joons,

Ugh only Tuesday? I wish it was the weekend already.  Work hard, play harder… But I can’t play when people expect legit sh*t from me, that’s just how it is.  Can’t get away with a semi-hangover when reality is ready to kick your ass.

At least that’s what my pedar (father) always says.  According to him, “Farrah, you should only go out vonce on de veekend othervise you vill be too tired to get your vork done.”

Um yeah, thanks Baba.

“Ter-ust me, I know best dige.”

Cool.

Did I mention that my daddy goes out to play ALL WEEKEND. In fact, he has weekly ping pong (wtf) and poker nights.

I alvays vin Farrah joon

My Irooni father is like MOST Iranian/MidEastern fathers- he “knows best” therefore, I better do exactly what he says otherwise I’m basically going to suck at life.

If S&F has been ANY indication whatsoever to you, I don’t exactly listen to my Baba and I made it pretty clear after high school, because unlike most Irooni children, I didn’t go straight to college.  I didn’t know what I wanted to be– I only knew that I DIDN’T want to be a lawyer, doctor or engineer.

FUCK COLLEGE

So much to my parent’s horror, I went to junior college.  Which they NEVER talk about even to this day- but I will be the first to admit:

If I hadn’t gone, I would’ve never gotten into a great university.  I would have never scored a legit job.

Most importantly, I would’ve never “found” myself.

[Read more...]

Daddy Joon, Come Plant Flowers With Me.

Hi Joonies,

I’m rather ill but nothing makes me feel better than writing for you Joonjoons…maybe Vitamin C packets, but thats OK.

Who else is fcking STOKED for NO-ROOZ? New Year? NOWROUZ? however you spell it…ITS COMING, HOLLER! It’s PAY-DAY, bitches, and I’m going shopping (OBVI ADDICTED). Spring Cleaning, Son-bols (Hyacinths), and a dish of weed that I explain to my white friends as magical grass. I love this time of year.

But that’s not what this post is about. Sorry.

Remember all the posts I wrote about my parents, and how they kind-of tortured my existence? Well, there’s definitely more to explore there, but I want to tell you about the phase after the teenage rebel/IwanttoRUNAWAY chapter. I know some of you reading are living at home, and cant wait to MOVE OUT. Don’t worry, I know the routine (some may apply more to guys and/or girls)

You know you’re persian and live at home when… [Read more...]

DISSED AND DISMISSED

Hey joooons,

Hope you all had a wonderful weekend.  With Valentine’s Day coming up (BARF) or as others like to call it “Single’s Awareness Day” (PATHETIC), I decided it might be fun to relive an awful V-Day memory that I’ve had.  Don’t get me wrong- I’ve had some good ones… but it definitely didn’t start out that way…

We can’t all be perfect…

Let me just be honest: I was an ugly kid. I was the kid that people made fun of in elementary school, but they weren’t just talking shit– they were being brutally honest.  No worries- I’m cute now… and Karma is a bitch (here’s looking at you fatties).

On top of looking like a train wreck, I wasn’t exactly the most popular kid in sixth and seventh grade.  I was a dork.  A true Persian style nerd (until the rebellion kicked in).  

Yeah, that wasn’t me…

In the seventh grade, I really wanted to be cool.  I tried to befriend the girls in the “in-crowd,” start dressing like them, etc.  Unfortunately, the fact that my Irooni mother cut my hair ABOVE my ears didn’t really help my cause but I tried.  In reality, I just wanted to be NOTICED.  I wanted someone to realize that I was special (other than my dad).

And finally someone did. “Persian #1-”– the first of MANY Persian guys to come into my life…But at the time, he was the only male Iranian in my class.  He was kiiiinda popular, not because he was good looking or cool- but because he was the class clown (only not as funny as Amir K.).  That year, he decided that he liked me.  At first, I pretended to be repulsed because hey- he wasn’t attractive (you should see him now- damn).  But his interest got me exactly what I wanted: attention.

Finally part of the “in-crowd”… with knee socks and an ugly haircut

So on Valentine’s Day that year, when he snuck a bouquet of pink daisies into my locker while I was class- I was surprised and slightly embarrassed.  How are you supposed to respond?  I’d never had anyone have a crush on me before. I wasn’t sure how to handle it.  So I did the mature thing, I screamed, “Ewwwwww!” I slammed my locker door shut and ran to my newfound friends to talk massive amounts of shit about the “loser” who did the “dorkiest thing anyone could ever imagine.”

I’m sure my sparkling behavior got back to him because I decided to call him that night to thank him in secret for the daisies that I actually really loved.  But he hung up on me… three times.

#TRUTH

Of course, it got out around school that I called him… at home… THREE TIMES… and I was made to look like the dork.  The fact is: Persian #1 had balls.  He went where no seventh grader had gone before.  He did something thoughtful and sweet, and in the end got slapped in the face for it because I was too shallow to notice how brave he was to risk HIS reputation for liking ME– the weird, ugly “BROWN” girl.

Lesson learned. 

Valentine’s Day is a bullshit “holiday” where all of a sudden our relationships or crushes have this ridiculous amount of pressure added to them.

As if being in love with someone or wanting to date a person isn’t pressure enough– Hallmark has to put a price tag on it.  And if our men can’t live up to Hallmark’s standard, then WE act like total bitches.

How the fuck does that make ANY sense? 

As long as you’re not getting dumped on Valentine’s Day (been there), just be thankful that you have someone in your life who tells you they love you everyday (and if they don’t — you should really rethink your relationship).  Sometimes the best way to celebrate your relationship is not to go out and spend a ridiculous amount of money on some boring restaurant with 50 other couples- but make dinner together, watch a movie.

Don’t be generic.

I would actually hate this, but cute idea!

Some of my BEST Valentine’s Days are spent doing something intimate with the person of the hour- whether it was my boyfriend or a good friend. And let me share some of those ideas (aka my favorite memories) with you:

(1). Make dinner together and watch a corny movie– or better yet, a Disney movie.  In my case, it was Beauty and the Beast (my favorite)– and that alone still stands out in my mind as the BEST V-Day I’ve ever had with a guy because he put thought into it.  He didn’t try to overdo it- he just did what he KNEW I would like.

(2). Single? Buy junk food and spend it watching trash TV with your homegirls.  Look– if we’re single women on V-Day- we are already expected to be sulking at home, stuffing our face with candy… so why not take advantage of that assumption and spend it laughing at the loser couples you’ve seen inappropriately kissing in restaurants… and at the park (creeps) as you ENJOY your high calorie frosting out of the can with the people you already love.

(3). Steer CLEAR from the dorky date/gift ideas.  No one wants to be that couple who rides bikes holding hands.  That’s just embarrassing.  So if you’re looking to buy a nice gift, sometimes the best gift is something MEANINGFUL.  Take your man/girl to a comedy show of their favorite comedian… or spend the day OUT- go hiking, do something that you wouldn’t normally do– and remember: sometimes the best dates are the well thought out, LOW-KEY ones.  STAY AWAY FROM THE PERSONALIZED MUGS:

One word: TACKY- what is wrong with people?

Most importantly, don’t give Hallmark the satisfaction of knowing they GOT TO YOU.  They already make enough money with the bullshit cards they come out with every fucking day. 

And for all you singles out there- who gives a shit that its Valentine’s Day?  Being a “couple” really isn’t the most important thing in life.  So if you are feeling down, which I’ll admit- that sometimes I do, go do something for YOU.  Read a book, take a pilates class, take a shot of tequilaaa– WHATEVER.  It’s JUST Valentine’s Day.

Or better yet– you can write to us– because we promise you, we care more than Hallmark does ;)

SEXANDFESSENJOON@GMAIL.COM

FACEBOOK US

Love alwayssss,

FARRAH فرح
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