Tuesday, January 7, 2014

One Year in Texas

Well, dear readers,

I've abandoned you, I know. I've been meaning to return. I will.

But til then, I've written a piece for the wonderfully hilarious One Year in Texas.

Check out my review of Drake's album "Nothing Was the Same."

Your Irritable Old Bag, now and forever,


Friday, August 23, 2013

Efficient Processes and the Struggling Economy

I am a fan of efficiency. The rapid development of technology has made efficient processes easier to achieve.

However, I am constantly baffled by government offices ridiculous LACK of efficiency.

The Illinois Department of Employment Services (IDES) CLOSED SEVEN OFFICES on March 1.
Illinois has the second highest unemployment rate in the nation. Wouldn't it make sense to keep these offices open and and thus, employ more people? But, I suppose, I'm no economist and I don't really know anything about the sequester and the federal budget.

I'm just saying, the process could be more efficient. In my previous job at a mid-size business performance consulting firm, I worked with many engineers who created efficient processes for businesses. Perhaps if I knew how to do that, I wouldn't be unemployed.

But I can edit the hell out of some text.

Who wants to hire me!?

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Ridin' in My Car

Today, I got flipped off by an old man in a Buick.

Did it upset me?


He should have let me in the lane. My turn signal had been on for a good 10 seconds before the merge.

As the months have passed since my return to American soil, I have come to realize and accept the fact that I'm a terrible driver.

This doesn't upset me. I've also come to realize that I don't even like driving. That might be a large contributing factor as to why I'm such an asshole on the road.

After two years of excellent public transportation in South Korea, America appears backward and technologically regressive.

After two years of excellent healthcare in Korea, America appears backwards and stupid.

Attending to a health issue can set a person back in such a ridiculous way, that most people choose to ignore their ailments. Then, it just gets worse until it becomes a bankruptable problem.

I feel that I've gotten off topic.


Why do old men like Buicks, anyway?

Sunday, February 24, 2013


A Facebook friend recently posted this JPEG: 

Now, there are a few issues I have with this.

First of all, "angels" is misspelled as "angles."



The message is fucking bullshit.

The reason women get married and go to strange men's homes is because the culture is partiarchal and they are born and bred to be good wives. They go to college just so they can look good on paper and once they are married off, none of that matters anymore.

I can't tell you how many times I've been in India and upon meeting someone's family, they tell me what their daughter studied and when I ask them, "Oh, what is she doing now?"

"Oh, now she's married."

End of sentence. No further explanation.

Now she's a wife. She belongs to her husband and that is all she does.


Are all little girls supposed to be rainbows of happiness?

What if you aren't a rainbow of happiness? Are you supposed to feel like a failure as a woman? Can't we just find someone who accepts us as the bleak, gray winter we might be?

What if I don't want to fill your fucking home with COLORS? Why can't you do that for yourself and invite my cold, bitter heart in for some goddamn warmth?

Fill yourself with color and then let's talk.

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Small Thoughts in a Big City

Three Fifth Avenue, Three Fifth Avenue, Three Fifth Avenue...

There's Two Fifth Avenue.

Would Three be across the street? Do housing numbers work the same in NYC as they do in the rest of U.S.? 

Three Fifth Avenue, Three Fifth Avenue, Three Fifth Avenue...

Thursday, January 31, 2013

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

My Name is Not Jonas

When I was younger, I used to imagine what my name would be if I were “American.”

“Rita” was the closest thing to my own name: Rishika.

I hated “Rita.” Yet, “Rishika” was so difficult for people to pronounce correctly. No one ever mispronounced “Heather” or “Brittany” or “Jenny” or “Jennie” or “Jeni”.

It became a source of anxiety. Whenever we had a substitute teacher, or it was the first day of school, there would be a lingering, awkward pause and I knew my name was next.

I would cringe as I waited to see what would come out of the teacher’s mouth this time. Being a quiet, obedient student, I would just accept whatever they said, - “Rah-Keisha” “Shireeka” (really? It starts with a goddamn “R”!) “Rickshaw” – and I would quickly raise my hand or saying “here” in response to the roll call.

Sometimes, they’d ask if theirs was the correct pronunciation and embarrassed, I would quietly correct them.

Plus, they never had “Rishika” on those little license plates you could buy for your bicycle. Lots of Michaels, Michelles, Stephanie's (but not Stephani with an "I” as my best friend would often commiserate with me)

But I could never come up with anything better than “Rita.”

I thought that I should have a pen name just in case I wanted to write anything honest or above a PG-13 rating. When I was younger, the thought of having uncles, aunties, my parents, etc read my writing made me want to crawl into a dark hole and never come out.

I figured, if I came up with a bland enough pen name, I could just blend into the background and make all my astute observations from the shadows. Indian people be damned!

Now, my brother makes movies about lonely underemployed clowns with shit stained underwear that my father enjoys showing, lovingly, yet, sometimes inappropriately, awkwardly to these very caring aunties and uncles of the community.

So, that door has been opened.

Also, we now have the Internet. I can write in my “secret” blog. That no one really knows about, but the whole world potentially can.

And we’ve got Kal Penn and Mindy Kaling trailblazing the path for future Indian kids that aren’t interested in engineering or medicine.

Even Mindy and Kal had to change their names to something more accessible.  

Mindy Kaling went from Vera Chokalingam to “Mindy,” a pet name given to her by her thoughtful parents who wanted her to have a more accessible name.

Kal Penn was Kalpen Modi. He just divided his first name in two. A wise move, as Indians tend to have many syllables in our names. He “Anglacized” his name to prove to his friends that he would get more call backs under this simplified moniker. And he did get more call-backs.

Hopefully this isn’t the start of a trend where Indians feel the need to “Anglicize” in order to function in the world. It would be kind of sad to see such a rich culture watered down so much. But then again, we aren’t living in the names of our parents and grandparents whose names are taken to distinguish which village they came from and who their father was.

Who knows? The future is exciting. Kudos to the Mindy Project. It's a breath of fresh air. Though the side characters could use some work. But she's totes hilar.

And I won’t be parading around as “Rita,” that’s for sure.