Diary of an ABCD

Day 1- What God-awful weather we are having today, it’s 89 degrees going to a high of 97 degrees, it’s only April and I have absolutely no summer clothes to wear, by the way where did Spring go? That is my favorite season. Everyone has to have a favorite season, for one of those God-awful conversations where people ask favorite times of the year and those awkward silences filled by some peachy keen Chiti kuri puttering her eyelashes as she so eloquently says "Spring.." Anyway back to the day, it’s hot outside, what a bad hair day, I won’t straighten it today because that’s pointless, but maybe I can put my hair all up and Ill look cute with a scarf around my pencil thin waist used as a belt.. I’m sitting at work, pondering my existence, should I go to graduate school? Should I accept one of my offers or should I take some time off? Time off sounds great to me, go travel to Europe, drink cafe in some French lounge, visit the frogs in Salamanca.. wait I’m afraid of Animals, cant do that.. Hmm see a runway in Milan, go visit the Lou.. so much to do, so little time, but today I MUST plan out the rest of my life, for if I miss a moment, the rents will be on my case..

Day 2- Its cooled a little but now its going to rain, shit.. I hate rain- bad hair again today.. but at least its not the inferno part deux.. on earth.. I’ve decided to apply to graduate school, filled out my application to NYU, but what should I master in? My undergrad was in political science but I don’t want my JD yet.. how about in philosophy, Descartes can keep my attention better than Keynes could so philosophy it is.. Sounds good, click off philosophy as my intended field of study.. Now I need letters of recommendation.. Who shall I ask? Professor Brooke? I always argue well in her class, for her biased views should not have been pushed onto some ignorant gorey loag.. Dean Simonson? He was my advisor, but aside from his crass views on women- telling us success is meant for the women with four "B’s" Brains, beauty, body, and brilliance.. Hmm Ill think about it. He was a bastard.. Let me go buy a new pair of Ferregamos while I decide.

Day 3- Friday night, party or no party? Hmm Chris and the gang are going bar-hopping.. maybe I should join them.. Or wait Ill call Manesh up and go to that desi party- see the same old corny crowd, maybe they’ll play some bhangra and I can nach and paa the gidda.. Whatever shall I wear? Forget the outfit, accessories come first, Ill begin with my black strappy sandals, Shit I need a pedicure, anyway on my way to Mo Goo’s salon Ill pick up that cute French Connection top I saw at the mall, paired with my black leather pants and red headband, Ill be set to go.. But which party, I call Manesh, they are all meeting at 10.. Its 9:45.. I speed out in my Beemer.

Day 4- Hangover, I shouldn’t be drinking, its not right, I should have a little more control over myself, but the party was horrendous, the crowd so high school and the men so grotesque.. Aghhh, my hair smelling of burnt Parliament Lights, and my pants with a rip down the side with Bicardi light spilt over my FC top.. Oh this sucks, maybe Ill do laundry.. First let me call Mom and Dad.. no wait this is no condition to call them, they worry way too much, let it go peeps. Message light blinking.. .." Its Asha.. call me ASAP.."
What the hell does she want, she probably fought with Sati and wants me to give her a ring.. wrong, she got engaged, damn bitch why did she get hitched before I did? the worlds conspiring against me, but why.. Message 2- its Ali, my drunken Spoiled rotten Porsche driving ex bf who wants to meet for lunch.. its already 12, what the hell kind of lunch can we have.. Call back.. Dinner it is.. What to wear, problem number 567 in my life, I choose a cute Gucci top with skirts and my sandals from last night, find my Del Rio lipstick put it on and am off.

Day 5- Ali asked me to marry him, that’s an idea I guess.. Screw grad school, it would make Asha hella unhappy hearing I snagged the richest one of the pack, hmm he’s cute, I can deal I suppose.. Mom and dad can stop sending me those fobbish rishtey this way and who knows I may actually have a conversation with him that doesn’t involve alcohol.. But why does he want to marry me now? What’s the rush all of a sudden, after dumping me for that whore from Karachi.. Maybe I should reconsider? Ill go to the gym and think about it.. at the gym I run into him we shall call him Mystery man.... he’s cute I think.. works out.. maybe Ill strike up a conversation... " Hey I’m Anisa..." He smiles an I’m busy smile and returns to his weights.. What’s up his ass I think, why isn’t he talking to me? Guys never reject me.. I follow him to aerobics, is he gay? Nahh.... So I shower and wait outside, he walks out passes me by without an acknowledgment and drives away in his QX4.

Day 6- Return to the gym to find mystery man... still haven’t answered Ali’s proposal.. Catch him on the treadmill, luckily the one next to him is free.. strike up conversation again and he replies " Anisa- I’m not interested.. " and he walks away.. Why not? Why isn’t he interested in ME, MOI, the girl they ALL want, the one who GETS them all, breaks hearts and laughs at anyone’s mistakes, I’m smart, cute, funny..and can be good company.. AGhh Frustrated I try again and his responds this time " I don’t date used girls" Ouch shot to hell, Used?? how dare he call me used, hardly.. so once twice, okay maybe 4 guys but that makes me used? I’m sure he’s far more experienced than I am.. come on.

Day 7- Lunch with Ali.. still no response... " I’m trying to figure it out , give me some time..."; " You’ve had plenty of time Nisa.. I really want to be with you.." Finish my salad tell him Ill call.. run into Firoz at the mall, he asked if I wanted to see a movie.. sure why not.. We see some dumb movie with subtitles, everyone knows I hate those.. Firoz asks how life is..my response.. " Great as always.." blah blah.. He’s going to Pakistan to get engaged.. he’s decided a Paki chick from back home is more his type then the damn ABCD’s from around here.. Okay.. he’s settling, another one bites the dust.

Day 8- At the gym, I spot mystery boy outside with a gori.. he’s combing his hands through her hair as she gazes her blue eyes into his.. a breeze brushes past us as they kiss on this picture perfect day.. she a picture of sheer perfection, him pretty damn close as well.. He sees me looking, without a change in his countenance, turns back to Goriya. Damnit, I vigorously work out sweating away my anger.. Why must Paki guys go for Goriyan?? What do they have that we Don’t? Damnit.. Before I know it, my pulse is racing so high and the room is circling around me, like I’m high on e..

Day 9- My temperature is at 103 and I’m burning up, Mom calls.. " Everything is fine Ami, just a bit busy these days.. Yes I’m moving back.. no tell Zuri aunti I don’t want to meet Usman.... what do you mean no choice.. acha Baba this weekend Ill come home... dinner great.. I call Asha, she comes over to make me some soup.. gives me two Tylenol and is off to go shopping- big dilemma where to hold the party... I sleep like a baby

Day 10- Call Ali- busy have to run home to go to some dumb dinner party with the rents.. yes Ill call when I get back.. no still no answer yet.. Yes Ill tell you by this weekend.. Quick shower and out the door.. two hour drive home, I missed class this morning, Shit forgot to as Prof. Brooke.. Ill ask Monday.. At home, mom has four suits ready and ironed from which I need to choose one.. I need a cigarette.. quick run to the pharmacy for a pack.. smoke 4 there run home.. complain about the smokers in front of the pharmacy.. and sit in the Benz with the rents on the way to the party.. Party- joy elitist Pakis pushing their views on one another.. great Mom, I have to meet this Usman kid? Who is he.." Oh an Investment banker.. great family.. good upbringing.. looking for a wife.. he’s good-looking too.. brilliant.. At party, say Salaam to all the drama queens and gossipers, all the affair driven maniacal men and their pretentious 17- year olds.. " Anisa.. Usman.. Usman.. Anisa.." mystery man, from a good upbringing, I banker who didn’t acknowledge my existence.. " Nice to meet you"’s mumbled.. Long drive home.

Day 11- Call Ali and say Yes.