| Diary of a Neurotic | ||||||
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March 22, 2005 The smugness was inconceivable, the way the big eyes peered at me; the upturned corners of her haughty smile matched the head covered with a scarf. If I would have stared long enough there would have been a golden halo and a harp. The epitome of a pure, virgin, Paki girl waiting to be touched for the very first time on her wedding night. Meet my cousin to be married this summer…who has never done any WRONG…who satisfied teenage desires with chocolate cake and Hawaiian pizza…the one who was close to me until she joined the Taliban and declared everything good in this world HARAM because it’s Jewish. It was hard to fathom and digest the ceremony to be taking place in a mosque and no singing/dancing/having fun…boringly typical, depressed, arranged wedding…but I was happy…because she was happy… Until… The angel grew fangs and pushed me into a boxing ring where she upheld the righteous, moral, ethical and religious values and I was…mildly put…B.A.D. Buzzing with energy from her new found spiritualism, successful weight loss and Osama Jr. husband-to-be she kicked, punched and clawed at me, my life and the choices I have made. I never knew I was the enemy…so she belittled my haphazard, unplanned, and notoriously unconventional life. I didn’t even have time to react, withdraw or defend…the match was meticulously calculated….the bets favoring the virtuous and I was the ugly, evil and sinful villain. So….who wants to be my date for the wedding from hell this summer? (2:53 AM) ~`~ |
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