Sorry for being a bit out of touch lately– been dealing with work, friends moving, etc. Plus I kind of needed to take a step back for a quick second. Until I realized that I can’t live without #sexandfessenjoon #truestory.
Okay let’s get to the real reason for this blog: my parents.
I’ve talked about my parents a lot and their cray tendencies– whether it’s having a llama at my birthday party *truth* or excusing me from sex ed in an effort to forever keep me in the dark about where a penis goes when you’re having sex (click here).
But at the end of the day…
I was raised like the little Persian princess that I am.
I didn’t grow up listening to The Beatles or reading Calvin&Hobbes– which after hanging out with my neighbor, I’ve been clearly “missing out on.” I wasn’t introduced to this song until I was in college (the white girl anthem at every bar):
I didn’t learn the lyrics to this song until the Glee version came out. And I had no idea what the members of Journey looked like until I looked up the video for this post. Fail.
Instead of jamming to Pink Floyd and Pearl Jam, I was rocking out to Leila Forouhar and Black Cats (during the Pyruz days- badbahkt only ended up having a one hit wonder after Shahbal kicked him out). My parents and I would attend monthly concerts where I would somehow get thrown on stage to dance with the band- and by somehow, I mean my mother. Not quite as glamorous as it sounds– I was the creepy little Persian girl with acne and a nose that still didn’t/doesn’t fit on my face.
But not even trying to front– when the members of Black Cats told me to “gher bede,” I thought I was such a bad ass.
It didn’t really end there– in addition to being taken to the “elite” Persian concerts that ANY Persian kid would die to go to (sarcasm… kinda), my parents also strived to make sure I had whatever I wanted- of course, only if it fit their standards.
My cousins and I always joke about how our dads give us so much trouble when it comes to school and finding jobs, but at the end of the day…