Posted in February 2012

DISSED AND DISMISSED

Hey joooons,

Hope you all had a wonderful weekend.  With Valentine’s Day coming up (BARF) or as others like to call it “Single’s Awareness Day” (PATHETIC), I decided it might be fun to relive an awful V-Day memory that I’ve had.  Don’t get me wrong- I’ve had some good ones… but it definitely didn’t start out that way…

We can't all be perfect...

Let me just be honest: I was an ugly kid. I was the kid that people made fun of in elementary school, but they weren’t just talking shit– they were being brutally honest.  No worries- I’m cute now… and Karma is a bitch (here’s looking at you fatties).

On top of looking like a train wreck, I wasn’t exactly the most popular kid in sixth and seventh grade.  I was a dork.  A true Persian style nerd (until the rebellion kicked in).  

Yeah, that wasn't me...

In the seventh grade, I really wanted to be cool.  I tried to befriend the girls in the “in-crowd,” start dressing like them, etc.  Unfortunately, the fact that my Irooni mother cut my hair ABOVE my ears didn’t really help my cause but I tried.  In reality, I just wanted to be NOTICED.  I wanted someone to realize that I was special (other than my dad).

And finally someone did. “Persian #1-”– the first of MANY Persian guys to come into my life…But at the time, he was the only male Iranian in my class.  He was kiiiinda popular, not because he was good looking or cool- but because he was the class clown (only not as funny as Amir K.).  That year, he decided that he liked me.  At first, I pretended to be repulsed because hey- he wasn’t attractive (you should see him now- damn).  But his interest got me exactly what I wanted: attention.

Finally part of the "in-crowd"... with knee socks and an ugly haircut

So on Valentine’s Day that year, when he snuck a bouquet of pink daisies into my locker while I was class- I was surprised and slightly embarrassed.  How are you supposed to respond?  I’d never had anyone have a crush on me before. I wasn’t sure how to handle it.  So I did the mature thing, I screamed, “Ewwwwww!” I slammed my locker door shut and ran to my newfound friends to talk massive amounts of shit about the “loser” who did the “dorkiest thing anyone could ever imagine.”

I’m sure my sparkling behavior got back to him because I decided to call him that night to thank him in secret for the daisies that I actually really loved.  But he hung up on me… three times.

#TRUTH

Of course, it got out around school that I called him… at home… THREE TIMES… and I was made to look like the dork.  The fact is: Persian #1 had balls.  He went where no seventh grader had gone before.  He did something thoughtful and sweet, and in the end got slapped in the face for it because I was too shallow to notice how brave he was to risk HIS reputation for liking ME– the weird, ugly “BROWN” girl.

Lesson learned. 

Valentine’s Day is a bullshit “holiday” where all of a sudden our relationships or crushes have this ridiculous amount of pressure added to them.

As if being in love with someone or wanting to date a person isn’t pressure enough– Hallmark has to put a price tag on it.  And if our men can’t live up to Hallmark’s standard, then WE act like total bitches.

How the fuck does that make ANY sense? 

As long as you’re not getting dumped on Valentine’s Day (been there), just be thankful that you have someone in your life who tells you they love you everyday (and if they don’t — you should really rethink your relationship).  Sometimes the best way to celebrate your relationship is not to go out and spend a ridiculous amount of money on some boring restaurant with 50 other couples- but make dinner together, watch a movie.

Don’t be generic.

I would actually hate this, but cute idea!

Some of my BEST Valentine’s Days are spent doing something intimate with the person of the hour- whether it was my boyfriend or a good friend. And let me share some of those ideas (aka my favorite memories) with you:

(1). Make dinner together and watch a corny movie– or better yet, a Disney movie.  In my case, it was Beauty and the Beast (my favorite)– and that alone still stands out in my mind as the BEST V-Day I’ve ever had with a guy because he put thought into it.  He didn’t try to overdo it- he just did what he KNEW I would like.

(2). Single? Buy junk food and spend it watching trash TV with your homegirls.  Look– if we’re single women on V-Day- we are already expected to be sulking at home, stuffing our face with candy… so why not take advantage of that assumption and spend it laughing at the loser couples you’ve seen inappropriately kissing in restaurants… and at the park (creeps) as you ENJOY your high calorie frosting out of the can with the people you already love.

(3). Steer CLEAR from the dorky date/gift ideas.  No one wants to be that couple who rides bikes holding hands.  That’s just embarrassing.  So if you’re looking to buy a nice gift, sometimes the best gift is something MEANINGFUL.  Take your man/girl to a comedy show of their favorite comedian… or spend the day OUT- go hiking, do something that you wouldn’t normally do– and remember: sometimes the best dates are the well thought out, LOW-KEY ones.  STAY AWAY FROM THE PERSONALIZED MUGS:

One word: TACKY- what is wrong with people?

Most importantly, don’t give Hallmark the satisfaction of knowing they GOT TO YOU.  They already make enough money with the bullshit cards they come out with every fucking day. 

And for all you singles out there- who gives a shit that its Valentine’s Day?  Being a “couple” really isn’t the most important thing in life.  So if you are feeling down, which I’ll admit- that sometimes I do, go do something for YOU.  Read a book, take a pilates class, take a shot of tequilaaa– WHATEVER.  It’s JUST Valentine’s Day.

Or better yet– you can write to us– because we promise you, we care more than Hallmark does ;)

SEXANDFESSENJOON@GMAIL.COM

FACEBOOK US

Love alwayssss,

FARRAH فرح
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AMIR K: SWAG & STUBBLE

AMIR KAMYAB: Comedian. Actor. Writer.

The SEXIEST Iranian Comedian around.

Why is he so sexy?  Let us count the ways:

Do we really have to point out the obvious?  Look. At. His. Picture. Its pretty obvious why we are so obsessed.

Enough said

Amir K. isn’t your typical struggling artist.  Not only is he educated, but did we mention how TALENTED he is?  Plus, Farrah has a fattie crush on him, so how can we NOT call attention to our favorite clown?

Most importantly, he’s out there breaking stereotypes everyday through laughter.  Screw Farrah’s psycho ass, we love Amir K., not just because he’s damn good at accents, but he brings all different types of people together through his passion: his jokes.

The S&F team caught up with Amir K. to find out if he ever had a hard time gaining acceptance from his Persian dad when he decided he wanted to become a comedian (in reality, we just wanted to learn the ways to win over his heart).  

- Where are you originally from?

I was born in Tehran, Iran and came out to Southern California at the age of three.  I pretty much grew up there and went to high school in Villa Park, and UCLA for college.

(SWOON). 

After college, I bought a place in Huntington Beach and did real estate for awhile.  I ended up eventually moving back to LA and started to follow my dreams, which is stand-up comedy.

- Was it a difficult transition for you when you moved to California from Iran? 

I was so young that I didn’t really have a hard time.  But, my mom couldn’t speak English when we first came here, so we all had to go through it together.  The adapting was much easier because I was so young, it would have been much harder to adjust if I had come as a teen.  But at the age that I moved to the U.S., its easier to learn new languages.  I can speak Spanish too, so I’m really glad that it happened at that time of my life.

- How did you deal with the cultural conflict of being Iranian and American? 

My experience growing up was not typical.  We didn’t live in a neighborhood with too many Iranian people.  The Iranian culture I knew came from my grandparents when they would come to visit from Iran, and from my parents. My family was never the super super overwhelming Iranian type.  We celebrate a little bit of everything.  At Thanksgiving, we have turkey and Persian food.  We celebrate Christmas too, and eat Persian food and ham.  I love it.

I didn’t really have too many Persian friends growing up.  In my high school, there were probably three Persian kids and I was two of them.

- Were you ever “hated on” for being an Iranian? 

Even if I don’t have a beard, I always have a little stubble…

(Did we mention we love that?) 

… and when I’m in places like Arizona or Montana, some people automatically think that I’m some Muslim guy just based on the way I look.  Sometimes I’ll play an Iranian character for one of my jokes and its so funny to see how people to respond to that.  Even in places like Vegas where so many people from Middle America come to visit, you see these “red-necky” people in the audience and they automatically think I’m the Muslim guy I’m playing.

It’s so easy to get people to preconceive something about you, especially if you speak or look a certain way.  

Its always interesting to see how people respond to a certain character — sometimes they really think that you ARE that character, when you’re not.

But, I think I grew up in a pretty cool area.  People just weren’t prejudiced.  Of course, we joked around, but we all made fun of each other whether we are Iranian, Mexican, Asian, etc.  But it wasn’t in a malicious or cruel way, we were just having fun.  California is a liberal place.

- Were your Persian parents strict? 

I was really scared of my dad.  He is your typical Middle Eastern dad.  My mom was always cool, but my dad was very disciplined.  My parents divorced when I was very young, actually two years after we came to the U.S.  So my brother and I lived with my mom in the beginning, and then, when we got older and required discipline, we moved in with my dad.  Especially because I was getting in trouble being the class clown.

We still spent a lot of time with my mom during that time, which I thought was a good balance.  We weren’t JUST Momma’s boys.  My dad was the “tough love” parent, but it was a good love.  I’m glad that it happened because it made me into who I am today.  My dad taught me to be more street smart, he taught me how to handle business and to do ANYTHING in life.

- How did your family feel about your career change to comedy?

I would have started stand-up a lot sooner had it not been for my father.  It has always been my dream to do stand up.  But for our culture, its not the easiest thing to do.  Your parents respond, THAT’S what you’re going to do?  Stand-up isn’t a viable career option for Iranians.  They look at you like some street performer.  So I did the school thing for my dad and when I first started doing comedy, my parents didn’t see it as a successful career path.  But once they saw my show and saw that I actually had talent, they opened up to it.

There is honestly nothing I’d rather do, there is nothing else I CAN do.  I’d rather kill myself than not do stand-up anymore.

- Your Persian dad is better than ours because…

… Because he had a mustache when I was a kid.  It was really cool.  I always wanted to grow one because my dad had a cool one.  Then he shaved it when I was about 15 years old.  I was disappointed because once he shaved it off, all my dreams were crushed.

- Did you ever rebel?

I didn’t rebel purposely.  I was so scared of my dad.  I wasn’t scared of any authority other than my dad.  So if I got in trouble, if I was drinking with my buddies and the police came, I wasn’t scared of the police… I was scared of my dad.  My brother was super studious and he had great grades, and I was just the opposite.  I was social, I went to school to hang out with my friends.  I think that was my form of rebellion.

I would get in trouble everyday, but I wasn’t doing it intentionally.

- What do you love about Persian girls? 

I love Persian girls, but I haven’t been around a lot except at UCLA.  Persian girls are really beautiful.  That’s my favorite part– how beautiful they are. 

- What do you hate about Persian girls?

Sometimes you come across those Persian girls that are super annoying, like those Beverly Hills ones- The Beverly Hills Persian girls are so high maintenance and materialistic.  I know its a stereotype, but they are like that in SOME parts of L.A.

(AMEN AMIR)

- Ever dated a Persian girl?

My girlfriend in college was half Iranian and half Irish– she was from England.  Every experience I’ve had with a Persian girl is a different type, they’re never your stereotypical Persian chick.  I’m not biased in anyway, I’m definitely not against dating a Persian chick, I just haven’t been in a serious relationship with too many.  I don’t have a specific type.

- Single? 

Yes!

Aww don't be embarrassed

- What’s the worst part about sleeping with a broken heart? 

Just thinking about the other person, and going to bed and not knowing if they’re thinking about you.  Getting emotional about it and just having them on your mind all the time.  Everything reminds you of them.

- Are you a player?

I’m a suuuuuper nice guy.  No games. I just like someone in a relationship that likes the fact that I’m a comedian.  If you can’t take a joke or handle having witty banter back and forth, or you can’t understand and carry an intelligent conversation, or you get offended by little things, or you get embarrassed about something in public — then its just not going to work.  I’m super sweet to you if I’m in a relationship with you.  But you have to be on my level, I like witty girls. 

- What do you think about one night stands? 

Everybody has a one night stand.  Its a part of life.  Its part of growing up and being an adult.  I don’t think its necessarily a bad thing.  BUT, its not good to have a one night stand every night, that’s just weird. But I don’t think its a bad thing if you’re young, you meet someone at a bar and end up getting a little drunk, and something happens between you two– and hey, if you realize that you don’t get along with that person after and don’t end up seeing them again, I don’t think its wrong.  At the same time, I don’t think you should be putting yourself in those situations all the time.

Just respect yourself and respect your body.  Everyone has to have fun sometime.

As long as you’re not a whore about it and just being crazy!

Amir K. on tour with Maz Jobrani

- What advice do you have for the younger generation of Iranians out there?

Its funny– older people get weirded out by my jokes sometimes because my jokes can be inappropriate at times, but the younger people love it.  And I think its time for change — its good for us to be pushing boundaries and doing these things, like you guys with this blog.  The younger Iranian culture is more Americanized and we should take advantage of these opportunities.  It’s all good!

- How do you like your Fessenjoon?

Savory and sweet!  Especially on my tahdig!

WE LOVE YOU AMIR K.  Keep up the great work.  Check him out on his website: amircomedy.com — you will NOT be disappointed.

SEXANDFESSENJOON@GMAIL.COM

FACEBOOK US

Love always,

THE S&F TEAM
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No Choice But to Slut Her.

Joonies,

Read on, and bump this (thanks to one of our lovely fbook fans):

(your welcome in advance)

This is about to be every sexually liberalized girl’s ANTHEM. #LEGGOOO!

Do you remember when everyone started to read? I mean when Kindergartners started picking up books that had words  like “SEE SPOT RUN.”— Remember how some people read faster? And then before you knew it, you were in 2nd grade and some kids were reading novels while your mom telephone-ordered HOOKED ON PHONICS (noshameinthatgame).

Thats kind of how I feel about Persian girls and their sex lives.

Some of us are HOOKED ON PHONICS–some of us are reading WAR&PEACE. And the problem lies here: girls still learning how to pronounce their ‘T-H‘s look at the girls reading Tolstoy and Dostoevsky with a certain—eye. Like ‘what the fuck could that big, thick book be all about?’ -no pun intended ;)

Oftentimes, this division gets misinterpreted. People/boys like to make this a battle of prude versus slut, but us girls know what its really about: its a battle over knowledge.

& Knowledge is ALWAYS power.

common sense is power too.

So I love my girlfriends, I really do– they’re the methamphetamine to my crystal. And I’ve been on both sides, that is why I’m not using the ‘J Word‘ here (judgment). I have love for my experienced friends and my non-experienced ones, they all add some variety and flavor to my life. But lets get rid of the awkwardness shall we? 

Growing up, I definitely blossomed later than my friends and I was not very flirty or boy-crazy. I had one friend who was a bit older, and just the opposite of me- she just had it. I didn’t know what ‘it‘ was but it seemed to get her a lot of numbers at the mall and the movies. It was inevitable that out of all my friends, she’d get a boyfriend and start becoming physical with them much earlier then the rest of us.

I remember the first time she told me she gave a guy head, and my mind was blown. I was torn– disgusted, fascinated, and shocked. I knew other girls did that in school, but my friend had SEEN A PENIS?

And so the rest of us girls drew a red circle around her. Not a target, she was just not one of us anymore. We were still friends and hung out, but it was as if there was a distance, we just couldn’t connect with her– when she talked about hand jobs and blow jobs, we were all like deer caught in headlights. I know we all thought it–even though we wouldn’t say it–’was she a slut?’

Sometimes I felt jealous that I hadn’t experienced it yet. Sometimes I felt like I had the moral high ground, and sometimes I was curious.

In the end, my confusion was rooted in ignorance.

I realized this very recently. I started hooking up more in college, and then I finally started having sex. And I didn’t tell most of my friends. It was a big part of my life, and I wasn’t discussing with anyone even though I wanted to express the emotions I was going through.

I thought–why am I keeping this part of my life so private? (Let’s be real, I can’t be that private of a person if I write for this blog). And I realized, I was afraid of the backlash-

I was afraid of having a red circle drawn around me.

I wanted them to consider me  a close comrade, I wanted them to still see me as ‘one of them‘….I didn’t feel any different being sexually active, and I didn’t want to be treated differently.

(I think its important to mention, that I didn’t care about being judged. If my friends judge me, they will, very soon, not be my friends)

But I’m tired of pretending. Why should I have to sacrifice a chunk of my life, because some of my friends are still reading Green Eggs and Ham and I’m reciting Hamlet? Its not a hierarchy. None of us– virgin, non virgin, blowjobqueen, prude– NONE of us are better than one another.

JUST KIDDING.

And you shouldn’t have to pretend with your meth, because you’re afraid they’ll feel left out that you hit a rite of passage earlier than them. Sex is a personal choice. 

My sexual experience began with a guy who I was not in a relationship with. The world didn’t come to an end. And it was fucking wonderful. I like being sexual, it is who I am, and I’ve taken control of it. I’m proud I’m past the awkward, confused virgin phase.

It feels right for me, right now.

Just because I’ve had sex, doesn’t mean I have the secret to life. Or that I’m a girl  who has lost her self-respect. Let’s not draw a redline between the experienced and the inexperienced. I don’t look at my virgin friends as little naive sheep and I don’t want them to look at me as a wise hooker.

Timing is important. And for girls on both ends of the spectrum– they need to realize that. I would never push my friends to start having sex, and I would never hinder them from doing it. If you read Crime and Punishment in 3rd grade, it most likely wouldn’t have had much meaning for you than if you read it at a point where you understand some of the larger themes. Same with sex, you do it when you’re ready– when it has meaning, and you can understand why you’re doing it.

For some girls it might be 18, for some it might be 29.

But we can all be friends, can’t we?

FACEBOOK US

sexandfessenjoon@gmail.com

Keeping it Real,

saaghi  ساقی
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Blow the Grenade Whistle

Hey joons,

I have one word for you: GRENADES.

Don’t know what that (or in this case “who” that) is?  Listen to The Situation (this is the one time we will EVER advise listening to that douchebag):

Ever heard the guys talk about how they mack on the ladies?  Approach the pack with a wingman… the wingman “extracts” the grenade from the girl you’re trying to get at… and BAM. Done deal.  Well, it goes both ways.

 Guys can be GRENADES too.

And sometimes we, women, just have to extract the “grenade.”  Too bad, guys these days are so damn cocky that they actually think they have a chance when all we’re trying to do is distract you from being a total cockblock for our friend.  

Classic Grenade

Let me tell you a little story: 

I decided to play wing-woman for my friend one night.  Her guy friend wanted to hook her up with his friend- who was not only cute, but it seemed like they had a LOT in common.  She’s a good girl, deserves a nice guy so I decided to take one for the team and accompany them for a night on the town.

Well the matchmaker was a short, balding, round guy. Before you think I’m completely shallow, let me tell you about his personality.  Loud, rude, crude, talked … and talked… and talked.  They couldn’t even get a word in to get to know each other.  Isn’t that what the point of the night was supposed to?  So they could get to know each other? Apparently not.  Shortie was a complete attention-whore… and the worst kind because he actually thought he was funny (badbakht).

So it was my job to “extract the grenade.”  I maintained the conversation with him separate from the two hopeful lovebirds while they got to know each other.  But sadly, Shortie thought that my attention meant that I was actually interested in him to the point where he was trying to get on the entire night DESPITE my constant rejection.

Are you on fucking CRACK?

TAKE A HINT

Listen up boys, here are some key things to remember: 

(1). Just because a girl is talking to you doesn’t mean she wants to suck your dick.

(2). No means no.  Just because I didn’t kiss you one drink ago… doesn’t mean I’m gonna kiss you 2 drinks later.  And if someone does, who the fuck knows where that mouth has been (just keepin’ it real). 

(3).  Cocky isn’t sexy.  Sure you see guys like Pauly D and The Situation acting cocky and somehow they get girls.  But do you know how many GRENADES they’ve fucked just to get one hot girl?  Plus, most of you aren’t making $100 grand per TV episode, so you really shouldn’t be trying to act like them.

Ultimately, here is the bottom line: just because you ain’t cute DOESN’T mean that you can’t snag a hot girl and lucky you, I’m going to tell you how:

(1). Don’t overcompensate.  Like I said before, cockiness is NOT cute.  Its all about confidence, SWAGGER.  Saaghi and I are HUGE fans of guys (short and tall) who have swagger.

This Shortie's got #swagger

(2). We know you have some “great” stories, but we really don’t want to fucking hear about it the first night we are talking to you.  sorryboutit. 

(3). Most importantly, DON’T BE THE GRENADE.  Don’t make yourself into the guy that we are going to talk shit about on our blog.  That’s just embarrassing.  And gross.

Don’t be the rule, BE THE EXCEPTION.

 SEXANDFESSENJOON@GMAIL.COM

FACEBOOK US 

XO XO,

FARRAH فرح
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I’m So Ghetto, So Hood.

Joonies,

We’re lightening up on this blog- its been too much sexguiltGODaddiction (love you FARRAH)

Anyway, I have this video on REPLAY as I write this post, anyone who has a problem with the quality of my writing can take it up with the year 2000:

LISTEN FOR THE ULTIMATE NOSTALGIA

Do you guys remember the days when boy bands were the shit? When Xtina Aguilera was hot? Britney wasn’t a mess? And Eminem was the best rapper around?

I dont know if its just me, but growing up in America, the music of the 90′s and early 00′s played a huge role in my life. Whether it was TRL or SPICE GIRLS bubble gum wrappers, I was sold. I didn’t know if I wanted to be Posh Spice or Ginger, (who the fuck wanted to be Scary Spice?) I knew I preferred Backstreet over NSYNC, and I rooted for Britney&Justin ALL THE FUCKING WAY.

VH1: THE TRL DECADE– must watch.

Unfortunately, I didn’t limit my music taste to my stereo system.

I decided at some point that my clothes should be a reflection of my music taste, and unfortunately, that was always changing.

PHASE ONE

When I was younger, my parents reallly restricted my ability to choose my own clothes…aka they cramped my style. Given I was 11 at the time, I really was frustrated at the fact that my parents wanted to dress me like an IMMIGRANT PREP SCHOOL CHILD (knock-off oxfords, suspenders, and plenty of plaid)

So I decided to take matters into my own hands, and just change on the school bus, on the way to school. I’d like you all to take a minute and imagine the confusion of the white person sitting next to me on this bus– unable to understand why I would be so adamant on changing outfits.

At this time, I really loved Britney Spears, Mariah Carey, and Ricky Martin.

I was so obsessed with pink sports bras, hot orange windbreaker pants, and platform shoes. I wanted my pants to always be shiny and balloon-y. I would make my hair crimped or straight, preferrably in pigtails with cute scrunchies.

Oh, and as for make up? That was also applied on the yellow school bus. But of course, I had no idea what I was doing.

I remember one time I stole my mom’s purply-pink lipstick and just slathered it on my lips like a clown. The kids at school would stare at me while I was walking by in the halls, and I really thought it was because I looked good so I’d keep applying. (How sad)

PHASE TWO

After awhile I decided trying to look like a white girl wasn’t doing me any good. So I decided I’d rather try to look like a black guy.

Yes, Joonies, I discovered Eminem, BIGGIE, Dre, and Nelly. And somehow, I thought I fit into the category.

For people who think the ‘rap game’ back then was like what it is now— HELL NO MOTHERF*cKER. There was no Skirt-wearing Kanyes and BOOJIEE ass DRAKES on the scene.

Rappers SAGGED their pants, wore XXXL Tees, and big bling CHAINS.

Guess who else did?

ME. Thats right, I didn’t let my gender get in the way of my hood-swag. I sagged my pants, wore FUBU tracksuits, and corn-rowed my hair.

Let me tell you how it worked– I’d wear jeans like a regular girl, then OVER MY jeans I’d wear sweatpants, and SAG them real low, with an accompanying XXXXL sweatshirt. At school, my teachers would literally stare at me as if I’d lost my mind.

My parents were horrified. But the best was yet to come.

I also had an obsession with sneakers, particular AIR FORCE ONES.

I needed more than 2 PURRS. I bought the high-top ALL BLACK two sizes too big because I just had to have it. My dream was a closet full of Air Forces, of all shades, special editions, and heights. The Brands of this phase included (but not limited to): South Pole, Baby Phat, Nike, Applebottom Jeans, and FUBU.

I guess no one was around to tell me that I didn’t look HARD, I just looked like a RE-TARD.

Really though this phase is probably the most embarrassing and fun one of my life. Who else can say they sacrificed their femininity to look like a heat-strapping thug? (other than MISSY ELLIOT)

OFF THE DEEP END FOR SURE, so shake ya tailfeather.

PHASE THREE

 By some point I realized I wasn’t black, and had to face the fact that maybe my personal style shouldn’t be an imitation of what I see — but something from the inside.

I will be the first to say that I HATE fashionistas that keep up with thisandthat blog, tote VOGUE as their Bible and eating disorders as their mission.

WHY? Just because their imitation isn’t as awful as my FUBU phase, doesn’t mean they’re not lost too. Style is not Expensive, and its not Brand-name. Its also not Trendy and of-the-moment.

Back to my Phase Three point:  We all struggle with trying to figure out what the fuck we’re going to do with our lives, why complicate it more by trying to look like anything other than whats natural–ourselves? Whether you look to a celebrity or your best friend for style tips, you’re most likely going to end up looking second-rate. 

Personal style is like personal hygiene. You wouldn’t use someone else’s toothbrush. And you wouldn’t watch them take showers.

You just gotta do you.

But of course, you have to look like a joke once in awhile and laugh at yourself afterwards– real LOUD.

Do you have any style faux pas you’d share with us? Pictures, perhaps?

FACEBOOK US

sexandfessenjoon@gmail.com

STOMPIN IN MY AIR FORCE ONES,

saaghi  ساقی
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Hi, I’m the Product of an Addict

Hey joon joons,

In the Iranian community, its all about image.  Who looks the happiest… the best-dressed… the most social.  Its not about what you ARE, instead its about how you present yourself.

You embody this persona that you think will make people jealous.

And sadly, you want to believe in it too.  You WANT people to be jealous of you or of your lavish lifestyle.  That’s how my family was.  We didn’t talk about my terrible grades in public, or the fact that I ditched class like it was nobody’s business.  We never admitted to my parent’s marital problems until the divorce papers were signed and my dad moved out. I was always told, “zeshte… nagoo” (it looks bad, don’t say anything).  

Deny deny deny - Persian solution to EVERYTHING

I really don’t know when it started, but for as long as I can remember, my mother loved her glass of wine at the end of the night.  It started out innocently enough.  But when she started having problems with my father, the one glass of wine at the end of the night turned into several from the time I got out of school until bedtime.

When my parents divorced (click here), things got a little worse.  My mother’s denial spiraled out of control and the occasional glasses of wine became a frequent “problem solver.”  I was in my senior year of high school when I came home and she was passed out drunk on the living room floor.  I tried to take her to her bed but she couldn’t walk.  Instead she kept getting sick and I had to clean up after her.

Lindsey status only older and Persian- oxymoron?

I moved into my best friend”s apartment the next morning.  

I thought that my “lecturing” her and taking drastic measures like moving out would serve as her much needed reality check and she would get her shit together.  But like most addicts, she transformed into an incredible liar. 

People lie to keep their addiction alive

When I moved out of my hometown for college, I thought I had left her capable enough to take care of my younger brother.  She hadn’t been drinking for some time and I thought that somehow she had miraculously solved her issues.  But I was wrong because you see, the problem with addicts is that they are in denial.  They think they can handle it, but their solution is to turn to something else to take the edge off.  And in my mother’s case, it was Vicodin.  So while she wasn’t drinking, she was popping pills — and unlike being belligerently drunk, Vicodin allowed her to pretend like everything was normal.

There were still incidents when I would come home to visit, and she would get a little too friendly with the alcohol- but for the most part, she was “herself.”  Or so it seemed.

It has now been eight years later.

And two weeks ago, my 15-year old brother called me worried because my mother was passed out on the floor- completely belligerent and heavily medicated– and he wasn’t strong enough to lift her up to take her to bed.

Supposed Role Models

That was the final straw.  

I lost my childhood innocence at a young age.  After the 100th time I had to walk my mom to bed because she couldn’t see the wall in front of her- you just stop believing in rainbows and magic.  I worked to keep her issues separate from my brother’s life because I believe that kids DESERVE to maintain their innocence for as long as they can– and my Iranian mother would just have to embody the perception that she lived up to the standards that our community set for her: perfect mother.

But I will be damned before I let her hurt my baby brother the way she continuously hurt me through her evident self-loathing.  Addiction can take form in many different ways- whether its your addiction of shopping or eating to pills and crack.  I may be strong enough to limit my drinking to once or twice a week, but my mother wasn’t and one of the biggest reasons for that is because she gave up.  

She gave up on her happiness.  She gave up on trying to find a job because the economy made it difficult and she took it out on herself.

She gave up trying to find acceptance within the Iranian community because she was blamed for the divorce.  And she turned to something that would numb the pain.

Ultimately, we are all in denial.  And for us (Iranians), a big reason for that is because we are terrified of the JUDGEMENT from our Iranian counterparts.   For the past ten years, my mother has been in denial– she truly believes that she has her addiction under control.  And me?   Until now, I’ve been in denial… convincing myself that I’m not the product of a family where the mother is the horrible drunk who could potentially kill herself from overdosing.  I never believed that her problem was that serious.  

#wisdom

The first step to overcoming your problems, your denial is to ADMIT that you or someone you love has a problem.  For us, its even harder because we are raised to SUPPRESS anything and everything that might cause the gossip to circulate among fellow Iranians.  But it took for me to admit that my mother’s problem requires professional help before I could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel… and the Iranian community I grew up resenting stepped up in a way that I would have never expected.  They reached out to my mother and showed her that she was not alone.  

No judgement, no questions asked.  

DON’T feel bad for me.  I was able to overcome my denial and I’m working my ass off to help my mother overcome hers.  How many other Iranians can say they’ve achieved the same?

SEXANDFESSENJOON@GMAIL.COM

FACEBOOK US

Promise to be funnier next time,

FARRAH فرح
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