Tag Archives: iran

Come At Me Bro

Hey Joons,

I’m a little sexed out – better known as not getting any. And while I would love to go on about my problems, I thought I’d dedicate tonight to a slightly more depressing cause. Plus, when I actually think about it, I realize that  99 percent of my anger comes from listening to people’s idiotic opinions/conclusions/etc.

(here’s looking at you, Congress). 

Let me take it back a step. The world’s perception of Iran has changed dramatically over the last few years. Sure, the Hostage Crisis didn’t help in the late 70′s/early 80′s, but for the most part – Iran’s “scary factor” was overshadowed by the gossip of “weapons of mass destruction” in countries like Iraq – and once that was discovered to be untrue (and Saddam Hussein was done with), we focused on Afghanistan, and specifically, Bin Laden.

After we killed the bad guys and started moving toward the “reconstruction period” in those countries, our attention became fixated on Iran - thanks to Ahmadinejad, it wasn’t hard for people around the world to stop and think, “Oh he’s batshit… and he runs a country?!” 

HMIf we were to just take Ahmadinejad at face value, is the “threat” that Iran poses void? No, because we have the supreme pleasure to be in the presence of the puppet master, Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khamenei.

Also known as the scary ass man with a turban who preaches about the evils of America and is constantly shown cultivating his relationship with Hezbollah.

Personally, I think we’re more afraid of the turbans than of their power.

As Ann Coulter says, people should be imprisoned just for wearing a “hee-jab” in America because they’re assimilating Americans into their culture and pretty soon – we’ll all have undergone clitorectomies. (watch at 2 minutes and 35 seconds – she’s cray). Gosh, we really need “better immigrants” huh.

I digress. Back to the scary turban’ed men – the idea of them gaining nuclear power is horrifying and I can understand why – we don’t know these people here in America, we don’t know what their intentions are, we don’t know if they actually hate us – so we do the only thing that has proven to be effective in the past (please note my intense sarcasm):

We isolate. We sanction. We make life as difficult as humanly possible for the elite regime of Iran so that they will be forced into giving up any and all power – including nuclear power.

It’s almost like high school – we isolate the weird kid in class, we ignore him, we tease him, we make life as difficult as we can (for high school). And then one day, he ends up bringing a gun to school. Continue reading

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Newton’s Third Law of Motion

Hola,

After reading Holly’s last post “Do I have it all?  I was really inspired to self-reflect on my own view of marriage, relationships, and career aspirations. Exactly one year ago, I would have read that post–with my very favorite Lady Gaga quote — and I would’ve been raising my hand, sayin’ “Preach girl!. Dreams over D’s anyday.  Now, I’m not so sure I’m a believer.

After watching a lot of The Big Bang Theory, I think I’ve found a scientific way to express myself (Note: I almost failed Physics in high schoo) Remember Newton’s Laws of Motion?  I only remember one.

“For Every Action There is an Equal and Opposite Reaction”

And while this is true with everything that feels the pull of gravity, it is actually completely false in the world of relationships.  Part of that is obvious– if you love your man, chances are he doesn’t hate you back.

But the point is, you can love someone, and they may not love you back equally. They may not love you at all.

See how that violates physics? It is counter-intuitive, and completely out of our control. It is as if you pushed a door in, but the door pushed back with double the force– or with none at all (in both cases, you would be injured). I wish my boyfriend would like me as much as I like him, but chances are the perfect state of equilibrium… does not exist. And that is scary, and it makes both people vulnerable. 

I think women fear the inequality that’s inevitable with emotional reciprocity.

Its a mouthful, and it may not even make sense but let me break it down:

I don’t think women fear waking up to a man that doesn’t love them anymore. They fear waking up to a partner that does not feel the same way. And the knowledge that they can’t do anything about it.

A pink slip at work will never feel like the moment someone says, “I’m not in love with you”, and since that is true, a professional goal can never heal a personal injury.  Continue reading

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I Didn’t See Your Text…

A few months ago I went on two rather awkward dates with a perfectly nice, but rather strange dude. When he texted me to hang out for a third time, I found myself making up an excuse: “My friends are in town for the weekend -sorry!”

When he texted again a week later, I said I was “going home to visit family.

 And then a third time, I had an “emergency” to deal with. Finally by the fourth time, I gave up and didn’t even answer back. You might ask…

Why as an adult who is more than capable of using my words, I decided to completely avoid the situation and instead opted to create excuses? Because I like avoiding awkward encounters.

aawk

I don’t think anyone particularly enjoys awkward encounters, but some are definitely better at handling them than I am. Continue reading

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Magic Johnson & My Persian Dad

For the sake of this post, I’m going to explain the reason for my long absence ( did you even miss me?!)

At the beginning of this month, I suffered somewhat of a breakdown. Too much pressure, pent up and unreleased, can do that to you. I’m just one of those people that is hardest on herself, and too forgiving of everyone else. #RECIPEFORDISASTER

Soon after, I felt a lot of physical symptoms– Then I had a lump on my neck. Then two. Then six. My lymph nodes were swollen, but I had never experienced that before, so I rushed to the doctor — who told me not to worry, my body was fighting something and, I’d probably get better in a week. Days went by, and I just got worse.

Doctors were talking about ‘Mono’. Then Cancer. Then TB.  then back to Mono. And then…HIV.

Now, given, the Healthcare system in America is jacked, yet you still never want to hear the words ‘HIV’ and ‘AIDS’ and ‘possible’ in the same sentence. It really drove me crazy. Even though I knew it wasn’t the only possibility, the fact that it was on the table as a matter of discussion just made me nuts. I started to rewind the tape on my past, questioning everything and mentally slapping myself for it all.

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When I got home, I overheard my parents talking about me in their room. I walked in and my Dad turned to me and said in Persian,

“Saaghi, tell me straight. Has there always been protection?” Continue reading

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Persian Pride Parade

Sara Afzal recently moved to New York from Boston to pursue a joint masters degree at NYU in Near Eastern Studies and Global Journalism. She received her B.A. in journalism at University of Massachusetts Amherst. As an Iranian-American, she hopes to contribute more alternative stories on Iran that go beyond the mainstream coverage. Follow her on Twitter @saramafzal and Tumblr.

On April 14, thousands of people attended New York City’s annual Persian Parade to celebrate ancient Persian culture and history.

On Madison Avenue, dancers and musical performers from all different ethnic backgrounds, including Armenians, Kurds, Tajiks, Turkmens and more came together to celebrate their unique and rich heritage.

SEXANDFESSENJOON@GMAIL.COM

TWEET AT SARA: @SARAMAFZAL 

TUMBLE SARA

Love,

SARA  سارا
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I Have A Little Problem…

I have felt fat and imperfect since I was about 7.

I can trace it back to the moment when my mom started discussing my weight and how I was pudgy with our doorman in Iran. Iranians don’t ever shy away from making extremely blunt comments:

“You look a bit fat, have you thought of losing weight?”

“Maybe you should start taking care of your mustache, you aren’t a kid anymore.”

“That haircut makes you look old for your age.”

We have all heard it at some point.

But this moment never really left me, and from then on my body, what I ate, and how I looked became a dominant thought in my head. When my mom asked my best friend’s mom, who was a nutritionist, how I could lose weight at 13 — When constant comments were made about why is it that I just can’t have a tighter stomach. There was a constant voice in my head about my imperfect weight.

thin

I started throwing up after binge eating in my last year of high school. I thought of it as damage control. I can throw up the food that I would accidentally binge eat. It wouldn’t happen that often, mainly because I ended up going on a self-imposed strict diet of only fruits and vegetables for 3 months.

When college started I was determined not to gain the freshman 15. Outside of my bulimia, I’m a very healthy eater. People think that you can only binge on unhealthy foods, I’ve binged on all kinds of food and thrown it up, unhealthy food is just easier to throw up. I didn’t think about this as a problem for a long time. Again, it was a form of damage control. I would get stressed, I would drink, or I would be mindless and end up binge eating. Then, when I realized what I had done, I would go and take care of it.

hungry

There is a wonderfully sick feeling of emptying yourself, a sense of relief and victory. I never considered asking myself why it was that I was binge eating, or why was it that I felt the need to binge to a certain point to make myself throw up. As college continued, my stress continued, and my body issues expanded. There was only so much I could control at times. And this form of “damage control” was effective and immediate.

It wasn’t until last year when I recognized my little problem, when I actually gave it a name and called it bulimia. Continue reading

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Make Me Submissive, Baby

Happy Monday = R.I.P weekend

It was Superbowl weekend, and even though Niners lost– it was probably the best football game I’ve ever watched.

Jim Harbaugh proved that I have more in common with an NFL coach than I thought possible.

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So this post is partially an ode to Jim Harbaugh, who perfectly embodies the frustrated and helpless younger sibling in all of us.

In an earlier post, Farrah Joon talked about her take on dominating in the bedroom…and how it’s a lot better, when the guy takes control.  And to borrow a quote from the lovely lady that I think described her point definition of “DOMINATING”:

“HE TOOK CONTROL AND HE GAVE IT TO ME THE WAY HE KNEW I WOULD LIKE IT.” - Fifty Shades of Joon

And really, its true…while it may vary from girl to girl, almost all women like it when the man exercises some control. And without passing judgment, I have to ask:

Why? Why do we like it when a man plays the Dominant to our Submissive?

The ‘S’ word may be a dirty one, but deep down, every bad b*tch wants an equally (or more) powerful male to pin her down and give it to her good. Continue reading

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I Believe Therefore I Am

JOONS,

Read my last post? Things were getting a little cray in the comments section (click here).

I dont intend to dedicate an entire post to my response but I think it’s time that maybe I just set some records straight – tell you all my opinion/beliefs.

Negative comments are hard – at the end of the day, Saaghi and I are only human. And while we encourage people to share their opinions, sometimes it hurts.  But we knew what we got ourselves into and we are so lucky to even have this blog and the people who read it — whether they like it or not.

You don’t have to agree with what we write — as long as you read it.

I didn’t ask to be a woman.  I didn’t ask to be Iranian.

I was born this way. I am an Iranian American woman and I refuse to claim otherwise.

I can’t imagine being someone different.

iri

I was born into a set of expectations – cooker, mother, submissive.  

I was born into the usual gender stereotypes where women are inferior to men.  My parents talked about my wedding like it would be the most pivotal moment in my life.  My accomplishments were supposed to be based on my ability to cook ghormeh sabzi without using a microwave and my tactics in safeguarding my virginity for the one. 

Sorry but — I don’t believe that those factors define an Iranian woman. 

A woman is a human with a vagina. A man is a human with a penis.

It took a long time (and a lot of fighting) for me to reach that conclusion.

But I believe that we are all individuals and only we can define what that means for OURSELVES.  Continue reading

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I’m A 9.9 on the Sex Scale

JOON JOONS,

As most of you know – I’m back home right now visiting the fam and Saaghi joooooooon.  Saaghi is slaving away at work right now so you guys are stuck with me.  Someone’s gotta make the $$$ to support me (looking at you Saaghi joonam).  Shout out to all of you who answered the poll in our last post -- Let’s just say 99% of you will never share your sex life with your parents.

Completely understood.

Personally – I let my mom think that I share everything with her, but if that were the honest to God truth — then I have been celibate for the last five years.

YEAH. RIGHT.

As “cool” as my mom thinks she is when it comes to sharing intimate details of my life, she still kicked me at the house at 18 when she found out I had given head.

#details

But that’s a story for another time.

I’ve been having a lot of R&R time with Saaghi – which totally beats out Skype dates because we can talk all about sex for as long as we want.

When I first lost my virginity – I went through a series (okay by series, I mean two) of hookups.  I had finally lost the V-CARD and I suddenly felt this sense of freedom.  I felt like I could do whatever I wanted, that I didn’t need to hold back when I was with a guy anymore because there wasn’t anything left to “lose.”  There were no more hymens left to break, excuses to come up with to ward off unwanted penetration, etc.

It was exhilarating – not just because I could finally have sex, but it was something different than what I had been experiencing (third base).  Within a span of a few months, I went from having one sexual partner to a total of three without even thinking twice about it (not all at once, thanks).

I’m free bitches

I didn’t really think about numbers when it came to sex.  I just thought – hey this feels new and I want to keep trying it until it feels good.  It was until I was in bed with a boy and he asked me what my “number” is that I started thinking, wait does this really matter?

I remember thinking, “Whew, at least it’s not high…” when I answered him.  And for a long time – that’s what deterred me from having sex.

My community and the fear of actually losing my virginity no longer discouraged me from having sex.  Instead all of that fear was replaced by the pressure and threat of judgement if I had slept with 10+ people. Continue reading

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Sex & Fessenjoon, 2012

HALLO.

It has been so long, and I wanted to say:

It’s not you, it’s me.

Really, work has swallowed me whole sorta. and its making me all sorts of LOOPY– like the other day, I watched 13 going on 30 all by myself (I hate chick flicks) and cried. Or that I spent Sunday shopping for limited edition Disney DVDs? Farrah says it might be because my life hasn’t been very emotional lately– and I think that is code for: its about that time for a douchebag to break my heart again.

Anyway, my sincerest apologies to you joonies, for my cold absence.  And if thats not enough, please accept this amazing Calvin Harris song– after writing this post, I’ll be dancing naked to it in my empty apartment. #baller

And I hope all the people out on the East Coast ( and NJ–where I grew up)– are keeping safe. I know there are many ways to help in the relief effort, but even if you have only two minutes– text REDCROSS to 90999 to donate $10.

Now I’m not going to assume that all you joonies are reading from the land of the free, home of the brave- Amrika. But its a big day tomorrow– Election Day 2012, OBAMA VS. ROMNEY. Fight to the death.

Just kidding. Although I’d pay-per-view that any day.

I think Elections are exciting. I was 15 when I worked on my first campaign, going from house to house– “canvassing”.  I couldn’t wait to vote, and when 2008 came around, I made my way to the polls and kept the “I Voted!” sticker as a souvenir.

Call me sentimental, call me idealistic, but I still believe voting is empowering. Continue reading

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