Writer's Block!

It's been so long since I posted. In that time Courtney and Aarti got married. Both weddings were gorgeous and I had a wonderful time. Scroll down to see Aarti's video collage.

I have somewhat a writer's block right now. Writer's block means only one thing, I have much more on my mind then usual. For every union, I have seen a break up in the last month. Somehow, I seem to be the voice of reason or the advice guru in these situations. I'm always willing to lend an ear, shoulder to cry on, and pull out some Coelho quote to digress from the usual cliche. However, what makes someone think I'm so stable to take advice from me? I've been single for almost a year and after coming back from England it's been more acknowledged that single is a good look on me. I do miss companionship but I'm not going to sell myself short just to have it. I told my friend Vani, I forgot what it meant to have a simple kiss, it's been so long. Just because I'm content and have a smile on my face does not mean I have any earthly clue what I'm talking about. My knowledge comes from experience and some personal moments of self-awareness. At the beginning of this year, I wrote a post called R.I.P. to the girl you used to see and I wrote:

Lesson 5 -- never seek advice from those who don't have their act together. I refer to my favorite author, Paulo Coelho, "(Don’t) listen to the malicious comments of those friends who, never taking any risks themselves, can only see other people’s failures."

I still stand by what I say. Kanye said it best, "How could a goddess ask, someone that's only average?" With matters of the heart, advice should always be taken with a grain of salt.

While I was in England my aunt told me that she proposed to Uncle Jers. He just looked at me and said "you Patel women have balls *insert silence for timing* and temper". I laughed for a moment but it occurred to me that same blood runs through my veins and I'm no different. While it might not be the Patel blood that runs through my veins, the bloodline he was referring to was my dada, Soma Kanji himself. He made us a strong bunch, he was a man with a stern tongue and an equally compassionate heart. Having those two qualities has kept the Soma Kanji Patel women bold with fire in their heart. That boldness and fire exudes confidence and also has instilled independence. Referencing the post previously mentioned, I live by lesson one: never be afraid to open up to someone. There is only a handful of people I have sat in awkward silence rather then expressed my thoughts, but decorum is important in some cases.

For the last three years, I've been reading the book "The Art of Seduction".  Before you write me off as a slow reader, understand the book is written much like a textbook. It starts out giving you the definitions of the ten different types of seducers and from the definitions you have to decipher which one applies to you. Then the book goes on to talk about the different victims of the seducers. The part that gets me is the "victim" part. Such a derogatory word to explain how someone can captivate another by a mere glance. Finally, the last part of the book is the seductive process which is twenty-four different steps to follow broken up in four different phases. So why has it taken me three plus years to read this book (still an ongoing process)? Simply put, I get disgusted by the tactics it throws at me. If you can explain a woman and the way she is in ten definitions then you've already lost half the battle. I thought about all my friends and neither of us are the same. We have some similar interests and maybe some qualities but we all have something that cannot be defined. I'm not trying to be a realist but seriously build a bridge and get over it. There is no art of seduction, you aren't going to wake up one morning and become a coquette because a book told you how to be . Furthermore, you're not going to figure out a guy over a 250+ page book because you put some generic stereotypes on him. If it was that easy, life would have came with a manual. I'll be the first to acknowledge the fact that I read my horoscope and refer to situations as "the Aries in me", however it's not going determine how I live my life. I read Zodiac Facts on Twitter and have the occasional chuckle when I think to myself, "yup, that's totally me" and retweet my confirmation. Sometimes I still think it's all crazy. I'm not going to deny a person because he's a Capricorn. How is that even a valid reason? There is no self-help book, 12-step program, or astrology chart that is going to confirm whether you should be with someone or not. The lesson in this would be to just trust your instinct.

I really do believe in the whole take the time to be single. It's ok to date just to date. You don't need validation from anyone and just know that all the rules go out of the window. There is no such thing as three day rules. There is no need to play the waiting game of who is going to text who first. If a guy refers to you as crazy or aggressive over something so silly as a "Hey, how are you?" text leave it to the fact you had a date and that was that. Not every date has to conclude in some long winded relationship that stretches out for a year only to come to realization that the two of you were never compatible and everything was based on that first date. Courtney says it all the time, "I married my best friend". More than ever, I'm going to heed her advice and know that my next relationship needs to have a foundation that I've never really established in the past, a friendship.

So what makes me so great at giving advice? My book is written by the success stories I'm surrounded by daily. I see the ins and outs of them and I grow to appreciate their situations knowing mine should only be comparable. I was telling Kamilah today that my expectations aren't high they just need to be equivalent to what I already have. So my number one rule still stands -- NEVER DOWNGRADE!

The world can seem so vast....

...on this journey to the past. Let this road be mine, let it lead me to my past....to bring me home. (Aaliyah's Journey to the Past from the movie soundtrack Anastasia)

It’s been so long since I’ve posted. Since my last post I’ve been to New Orleans for Courtney’s bachelorette, became ill, and then jet set to England to visit my family.

As Courtney’s wedding begins to creep up on us, I find myself reminiscing more about New Orleans. The city is beautiful in its own little way. I found myself imagining the fact that Hurricane Katrina was no more than about six years ago. I was amazed how much had been rebuilt in such a short time. It was similar to the time I visited Hiroshima, I stood in awe and it brought tears to my eyes to think about how innocent civilians had to experience the devastation. The weekend was wonderful and I’m so glad I got to spend time with so many wonderful girls. The thought of that weekend just makes me more excited that the wedding is so close. This afternoon I wrote my speech/toast and I, of course, choked up just at the mere thought of how far my friendship with Courtney has come. Aside from that, if it wasn’t for Courtney, I wouldn’t have met so many wonderful people such as Mama McBee, Tara, Bobby, Kristen, Sonya, and Samantha. I could rave for hours about every single one of them, even Bobby…LOL. Like I’ve said before I’m so lucky to have a person like Courtney in my life. Needless to say, New Orleans will always be dear to my heart and will always make me think of my dear sister.

Moving on, shortly after New Orleans I became ill, again. I just became weak and fatigued. Come to find out, my anemia was acting up and physically wearing me out. After I was finally somewhat fit, I decided to go to England with my mom. My grandmother was going to have a knee replacement and my mom wanted to go take care of her. At first, she was only going to go by herself but after some convincing from my aunt, my decision was easier to make.

This trip to England was not like my previous visit, almost twelve years ago. This time I seemed to have left my heart at my grandmother’s house. The first thing I see when I get in the living room is a picture of my grandfather with a garland. He passed away ten years, just two days after my sixteenth birthday. My Dada spoiled me so much and he adored me. He used to tell me that if I would massage his head and walk on his back, he would buy me the thickest gold necklace money could buy. I blame him for my obsession with precious jewelry. I have so many memories in that house, so it is hard not to be nostalgic just walking through the doorway.  I was telling my grandmother about how she scarred me for life, when she used to corner me to give me medicine. I found irony in the fact, twenty-three years have passed and I was now the one forcing her to take her medicine. I enjoyed spending time with my aunts and uncles. The first two weeks, I spent in Slough with my Nayna Masi and Uncle Jers. I was excited to spend time with my new baby cousin Esme, who decided to finally make her appearance after eight years. Her mannerisms are very comparable to mine when I was younger. It was nice to sleep in late and get spoiled by my aunt and uncle. I can't remember the last time I genuinely didn't have to lift a finger to do anything. Of course, my aunt did that knowing the work that was in store for me when I returned to Manchester. 

It seemed like I was going non-stop when I returned to my grandmother's house in Ashton. My mom and I spent a lot of time cooking and catering to guest that would come to visit my grandmother. When I finally had some time to relax, I would walk around the town to visit my old neighbors and get a feel for my birthplace again. So much had changed, but it still felt like home. Almost everyone still lived in the same house they did back in 1989. I was spoiled by all my neighbors; they all cooked for me, bought me sweets, and showered me with presents. My mom's best friend and her husband took us under their wings and aided us in every way possible during our time there. There is something about the closeness in the neighborhood that is so endearing, I find myself missing that the most. A couple of days before I was going to leave my aunt from Dubai came to take over the caretaker duties. I hadn't seen my Daxa Masi since I left England when I was four. Along with my aunt, I met all five of my cousins for the first time and my Uncle Nasser. The kids are so well behaved and well-mannered. I grew attached to them in the short time I had to spend with them. I miss the girls the most. Ayesha is beautiful and bright and Amina is so sweet and the spitting image of her mother. The eldest of the five, Sofiyan, was the most impressive. He reminds me a lot of my uncle and brother. I've noticed babies seem to flock to the three of them and are easily pacified in their arms; they'll all make wonderful fathers one day. I was happy to spend time with my uncle this time. He's only six years my senior, so we do have somewhat of a connect, since the generation gap seems minuscule. I think it was different this time for the both of us. I was able to articulate my thoughts and feelings, which was reciprocated and discussed with a little bit more attention. I guess it's easier to take me seriously, since I'm 26 years old versus 14 years old.

I never realized how much I needed my extended family until this trip. There are days I can't vocalize how I feel and I wish I had someone there to help me organize my thoughts. Some things are too family oriented for me to share with even my closest friends. It's a holiday like this that makes me wish there wasn't 4000 miles between us. I remember, vaguely, I was very depressed when I moved to America back in 1989. Even thinking about it now I tear up. From the day I was born to when I was four, I never went more than 48 hours without seeing at least one of the seven members in my extended family (with exception of my holiday to India when I was one and a half). They took care of me, picked me up from nursery, fed me, played with me, basically spoiled me rotten. Thinking back to those times makes me question what it means to have a home. They say home is where the heart, and I'm not so sure it ever left England. I know my time there was limited but I had everything I needed in all of about a 5 mile radius. More importantly I had my family, whom I miss more then ever. I might need to borrow Dorthy's ruby pumps and click my heels. There's no place like home.

Let me upgrade ya....

I have one rule after a break up/parting....UPGRADE!

Not a single ending doesn't end with me saying, "you better upgrade". I do not, by any means, think that I'm the end all be all for any guy. Therefore, I think it's only appropriate for him to upgrade. I think he should prove me wrong, that he can do better. Maybe not in all aspects, but the two that rise to the top is personality and physically. Granted, someone being physically attractive is a matter of opinion, but it's not beyond me to think a girl is prettier than me. I have no shame in admitting it, and I think every girl is pretty in some way or another. How many of you have said, "how the did he go from 'her' to 'that girl'?". I find it actually an insult for someone I was with to go to someone less attractive. I digress, looks aren't everything.

However, if the new girl's personality is sub-par to mine I have an issue. Every guy I've talked to, I ask that infamous question, "what do you look for in a girl?". Most of the time, the response is an amazing personality. So I have to wonder when I see the next girl and her personality is not even close to what mine is. What even constitutes as an amazing personality?

I understand I have no right to even make such a request, being the ex. Even if she is the "transition girlfriend" aka rebound you should at least make sure she is an improvement in looks for the sake of your own dignity. No guy wants to be known as the guy that couldn't do any better than who he used to be with. I might hate it, but all I'm saying is make me jealous. Make me wish I had cared to put up a fight, furthermore, wish I was still with you. That's all I'm saying.

I was wondering maybe....

My MP3 player died, and since I can't really get any work done without music I had to resort to the few songs I have on my miniSD on my phone to hold me over. The song "Unthinkable" by Alicia Keys started playing. It has occurred to me, I forgot how it feels to have butterflies. How does it feel when it's meant to be? Do I deserve it? If you ask me, I'm definitely not ready. When I went to go see the musical, Mrs. Staples told me she read my blog and she told me it's ok that I'm not in a rush. A friend of mine recently told me I've never been one of those girls that's needed a man to get by, I agree. Usually I have it all figured out, but something seems off lately. I'm unusually distracted, most of it is the excitement of the bachelorette, but some of it is a somber overcast. It'll wash away with a good run and a good night's rest. I'll file this day away as just one of them days.

On a lighter note, I'm so excited about NOLA this weekend and the shirts made it more of a reality. They turned out amazing!

Who is having the best week ever?

First I have to say my heart cried this week. The Hindu, actually the spiritual, community lost a remarkable person. Rest in peace Satya Sai Baba. No one will ever forget your teachings and the impact you made.

So who is having the best week ever?

Kate Middleton? Staying true to my roots and claiming myself as a Lancashire Red Rose, I woke up at 5 a.m. to watch the Royal Wedding with a sense of real pride. It's already been said, she was gorgeous, fairy tale wedding, etc etc etc. I asked my mom about Princess Diana's wedding and she said that it was just as show stopper. She and dad had the day off from work in observance of the wedding. My brother was only a year old and I wasn't born yet. I'm sure it was just as beautiful.

President Obama? Yes, finally Osama Bin Laden has been killed. I will say Former President George W. Bush deserves a lot of the credit. I'm going to stop right there.

Lois? Lois was the first girl I met in Buford back in fourth grade. Why would she be having the best week ever? Oh no reason, she just got proposed to at the Gwinnett Braves game this past Saturday. I'm so happy for her. I'm so glad I was there to see it. I was sitting a few sections away from her, but when I looked over Ryan was on one knee proposing. It was so sweet, and the ring is gorgeous.

Me? I got see my favorite girls this past week. First, Whitney stopped in Atlanta on her drive home from Miami. Me, Whitney, Kamilah, Drinks, Vortex, Little 5 Points, Fogo de Chao, need I say more? Reckless, as usual. Then an unexpected surprise, due to a delay in New York, Lisa and Arti were stuck in Atlanta for the night and I got to see them for dinner. Saturday, I got to spend time with Katie Boles, my wonderful sister, and Mama McBee for the Gwinnett Braves game. Also, aside from the fact I'm probably going to be worthless this week, this time Friday I will be in New Orleans. I just got the artwork for the tanks that were ordered for Courtney's bachelorette. I have to say they look amazing and my new T-shirt place is Cotton Eyed Joe's. As if the idea of it being a bachelorette wasn't exciting enough, it also happens to be JazzFest. I'm so excited! Did I mention out of twelve ladies, I'm the only that will be single? Also, this is my first time ever in New Orleans. So with all that said clearly, I'm having the best week ever!

Break up to make up?

No, thank you. I was listening to my MP3 player on random song shuffle and Ashanti's "Break up 2 Make up" started playing. I kept reversing parts of the lyrics so I was understanding them.

A friend recently told me I leave doors open, or at least that's what it seems from the few weeks he's been getting to know me. He's right I do but I'm adamant about not revisiting a failed relationship. Parts of me hopes for a friendship, but I'm beginning to understand you can't be friends. I think I walk away from every relationship wanting to salvage a friendship, but I recently realized we were never friends to begin with. I know that sounds very harsh but when there is attraction, the basis of friendship were always with the hopes it progressed further. I'm not a fan of breaking up to make up. I never understood those type of relationships. It doesn't make sense to me to pick up where we left off, knowing where we left off was rather hostile. I have an "off" switch and no one has been able to find the breaker box to turn it back "on", sorry. I can't tell you how many times I sit in amazement when I see couples break up and they're back together 48-72 hours later. I know it's not my business, but sorry your privacy went out the window when Mark conjured up the world of Facebook back in 2004. The news feeds tells me so and I can ignore it, but it's like a bad car wreck; I just can't look away. The break up is very public, very "woe is me", pity party for 1 + friends list, "OMG, my life is over", "Where does my heartbeat now" (yeah, I totally went there with the Celine Dion reference). I'm sympathetic the first time around, but when I notice a pattern you're labeled as just pathetic in my books. I hover over the status to find the X and I remove all future status updates by you from my news feed. Your cry over a car wreck is nothing more than your quarterly fender bender and I've lost interest. I'm so stubborn on no one ever thinking the same about me that I refuse to publicize my relationship for one and another fact when I call it quits and it's a known status, THAT'S IT. I understand couples fight, but I guess I think you should work it out privately rather than go straight to the break up furthermore making it public. This is all just my opinion and you can call me out for being wrong, cold-hearted, or misguided. Seriously, how many of you have seen a couple in a "five year relationship" but they've "broken up" on more than five different occasions? Is it wrong for me to question the longevity of their relationship at that point? I genuinely hope for the best for them, but once again my opinion doesn't matter. This is just from the outside looking in, so I don't understand it. I'm going to go back to minding my own business, but I will say I'm not a fan of publicized break ups to make up.

Sexy Cougar!

No not that kind of cougar.

It's that time of the year again. Rebecca's anniversary isn't far off and this year's upset isn't much different from last year. I've been spending a lot more time with Courtney since she and Bobby got engaged. Everytime I drive away from our meetings I usually instantly remember Becca just the same.

I remember the times in Becca's car, that both Courtney and I adored. She had a sexy, yellow Mecury Limited edition Cougar. The first time I was in her car was right after I crossed and the car was filled with the smell of cloves. I cannot tell you how much the smell of cloves makes me choke up. My heart still cries when I see a Cougar on the road. The day after we crossed, Becca asked me and Courtney to wash her car for her. I'm sure most people would refuse and tell her to do it herself. However, Courtney and I jumped on this opportunity.  See if we had to wash the car, that meant we were going to get to drive the car. Like I said, Courtney and I adored that car. So many images of Becca driving through campus with the windows down and the music blaring resonate my memory. I continue to miss her and she crosses my mind randomly constantly.

To lighten the demeanor of this post I'll change the subject slightly. Last night I had dinner with Courtney. I went to go pick her up and I got lost of course. *fingers crossed* I hope I figure out how to get to Courtney's place without having the circle all of Decatur before the wedding. As we travel through the Highlands and find a decent parking spot, Courtney realizes I'm once again helpless and has to parallel park for me. Seriously, I'm a lost cause and so fortunate for two things: I have wonderful friends and I know how to laugh at myself. We went to go see my other wonderful sister Tiffany at her job, Goin' Coastal. Everyone go check it out and definitely try the Pink Lemonade, it is AMAZING! I don't think I've ever been so addicted to a drink. After our pre-dinner cocktail, we head to La Tavola for our dinner reservation. Courtney used to work there during undergrad, so we get our usual warm greetings as we enter. I ordered the gnocchi and I must have really hated it because I was sopping up the last of the black truffle sauce with my bread. When the waitress came to clear the table, Courtney and I looked at each other and with our head lowered we admit that we're not done with the plate. In conclusion, I'm convinced Chef Craig Richards uses crack in his ricotta gnocchi in black truffle sauce with chives topped with a poached egg. Of course, as usual it was wonderful to spend time with Courtney. I can't wait for the bachelorette and the wedding.

Ricotta Gnocchi in Black Truffle Sauce with Chives topped with a Poached Egg!

I was telling a friend last night I have a new deal breaker on my "list". The person I end up with needs to appreciate food. I came to this conclusion after the meal I had with Courtney last night. I would say I'm some sort of a pseudo-foodie. I'm not very picky, but I do find beauty in how food comes together and how different flavor notes can improve an entire dish. Growing up as an Indian and being fed an authentic diet, I'm attracted to complex flavors. I enjoy depths of flavor filled with warmth and spice. So, yes my signifcant other has to like food, moreover different types of food and be willing to try new things. Is that asking for too much? Eh, maybe.