NOT FAIR!

You win this time, America. You win.






Amreekans: 2
Desis: 2

I cannot help myself

ULLU KE PATHEY!!! KAMINEY KUTTEY HARAAMCH-


Whew. That felt good.









Desis: 2
Amrikans: 1

Blogging my visit to the doctor's

Since the first month of Health here is free, my mother, in true Desi spirit, wasted no time at all in carting me and my perfectly healthy siblings to the doctor's. I should explain at this point that I have always been unnaturally afraid of doctors and places that smell like something from a horror movie, so this visit was particularly cruel on my mother's part. It was, needless to say, horrible. And no, I am not going to cut my mom some slack just because some random stork decided to throw my newborn, white blanket-enclosed baby body into her lap. But I digress. The doctor's appointment was at 3:30 PM. Here's how it went:


3:32 p.m. - I rush into the reception, vaguely registering the lime green baby chairs in the waiting area and the receptionist's neck tattoo. Get informed that the doctor is busy.

3:33 p.m.- I try sitting in aforementioned baby chair.

3:40 p.m. - I spot someone about to come in through the tinted glass door. I cannot at this point tell if they are hot or not. Get off the baby chair and hurriedly sit on grown-up sofa.

3:41 p.m. - Strike a I'm-so-bored-but-still-oh-so-hot pose. Dude comes in the door. He is so not hot. Go back to staring gormlessly into space.

3:50 p.m. - Receptionist calls me to the dreaded inner offices. To distract myself, I try to figure out what her neck tattoo is. It is a heart. She sees me looking and gives me weird looks.

3:51 p.m. - A nurse tells me to take off my boots. I am confused. What are they doing in here? Strip club? Shoe smuggling? She makes me get on a weighing scale. Oh.

3:57 p.m. - My height has been recorded, my temperature taken. I am now ready for the doctor. I cannot help but feel like one of those sacrifice victims, who were dressed up and fed and left on an altar just moments before their still beating hearts were plucked out from their bodies.

4:00 p.m. - I wish I hadn't thought of the heart plucking thing. I can hear the doctor approaching. I imagine her having huge snake-like fangs with saliva dripping off them. This is bad.

4:00:49 p.m. - The doctor is Desi too! This is really bad.

4:03 p.m. - The doctor cheerfully informs me I need two shots. I look at her with hate-filled eyes. Boy, if looks could kill. She pretends not to notice, and tells a nurse to get the injections.

4:04 p.m. - I swallow my pride and ask for my mom.

4:10 p.m. - The nurse comes in. I close my eyes. This is it...

4:11 p.m. - Hey, that wasn't so bad! I smile.

4:11:32 p.m. - I faint.

4:14 p.m. - I register the patheticness of the fact that I fainted.

4:15 p.m - How do I put this? I meet the Doritos I ate for lunch for a second time.

4:25 p.m. - It takes me ten minutes to convince everyone in the room I am not about to die (or meet my Doritos for a third time)

4:27 p.m. - I walk outside, where the receptionist gives me extra candy, and the nurse pats me on the back for being "so, so brave."

4:28 p.m. - The doctor tries to console me by saying that we will meet again. Really, lady? I don't think so. I look at my mom with pitiful eyes. She gets me more candy and whisks me out of the clinic.


Well, at least it looks like I won't be going back to that place any time soon.

Tie-in!

I finally saw some hot guys!
There is a store called Safeway here. Safe, I think, because it saved me from going completely insane at the lack of hot guys to look at. There is a really cute employee here! And he found me little muffins with blue-berries in them, which counts as plus points for him. I never knew I liked blue berry muffins.

As Barney would say, momentary bit of grudging respect.







Desis: 1
Amreekans: 1

Chaat houses and booze

As things turned out, it took me just about...4 minutes into amreekan land to find alcoholic drinks: they were on the plane. Seriously, you begin to wonder at the credibility of an airline where the air-hostesses smell of booze. Nevertheless, we somewhat miraculously survived the plane ride (despite being seated next to an old Indian alcoholic who managed to find an r-rated movie on a kids-friendly airplane) and took our first steps into the land of opportunities. I then tripped on the horizontal escalator, something I wasn't even aware is possible. After being helped by some creepily cheerful employees, we found our way outside, where our relatives were waiting. My first thought was, I am ashamed to admit, something that went like "OMYHOLYGODCOOOOLD," but then my mom distracted me by pointing to a lady and her dog who looked startlingly alike. This amused me for about five minutes, after which we were already in our cars and headed home.


Home is my grandparent's new place. They just moved in, so it was highly confusing and disorganized for a couple of days, until we figured what to do with our ten suitcases worth of stuff. All this time, however, we happily introduced ourselves to America's favorite past-time: eating. Because I am Muslim, I can't eat meat here, a serious disadvantage that has ruined my tummy's image of America as heaven. There are, however, a lot of Indians here. And I mean, a LOT. So yay, Indian food!


There is a chaat house near our place. The "chaat" is in orange, the "house" in green, and the background is white: they take their nationality seriously. The interior was deliciously Indian (all the more delicious because of the hot desi dude at the cashier), with a t.v playing Tamil songs and a miniature Taj Mahal at the entrance. The chaat was surprisingly good though, considering the restaurant looked more like a place for ugly desi college dudes to hang out rather than some place selling home-prepared Indian food. There was daal there too. Disappointing, since I crossed the seven seas to ESCAPE from daal. Well, I guess we all can't have everything.


More later, keep up the desi-ness. Take care!

And the first score goes to...

The desis!
Seriously, pink trees? What is wrong with you, America?
Oh, and the electrical switches turn on the other way round. Retards.











Desis: 1
Amreekans: 0