another day, another grad
I wrote this as an e-mail so ignore all the personal references...
As you have probably already figured out about my life... I don't live anything close to boring. I recently told one of you that I loathe being a boring person trapped in a boring life. And perhaps I steal from Phi with an over-enthusiastic creative mind that I can probably take the most insignificant thing and make it in to a tv movie of the week. Of course, I'm not as detail-driven as Phiroozeh is in her writing style but I speak colloquially when I write. Yeah, that word of the day was for you, Farah.
So as you three know, I walk across the stage in my pajamas and gown for grad tomorrow (rather, today). Yes Phi, SFU is letting me go from its embracing concrete walls and telling me to fly bird fly... okay, perhaps not in such a romantic way. What you guys don't know is the love affair I've had with my post-secondary education over the last five years. But that story is for another day and quite easily can be a few episodes of the new soap opera I hope to launch called Apro Daro Nataak. So tomorrow I convocate. Well and good, we've established that.
Now before I tell you the story, you should all be familiar with my last minute shopping extravaganzas (such as buying outfits or tops or shoes days and hours before Norouz functions, birthday, birthday parties, grad... yes, grad). Well it wouldn't be a Parizad moment if yet again I didn't leave shopping for something to wear for grad to the last minute. So today I got off work late again and rushed my Honda to Metrotown. Now for you ladies who don't know, Metrotown is about 20-25 minutes from where I work. I got off at 7pm and the mall closed at 9pm. I was tired, I was hungry and I'm suffering my nasal leakage all day long. Not to mention, pretty much the majority of clothes in Vancouver are jersey material. Nothing is fancy. It's a west coast thing, I'm sure. We lack formality. Maybe that's where I get it from, Farah. So it's difficult to find good, decent, formal clothes of an assortment of colours.
So it all started when I was graduating high school. About two weeks before my dinner dance, mom asks me "so, are you going to buy a nice dress for graduation?" I said no. We went back and forth and finally decided okay fine, I'll go buy a dress. I wanted to get something I could wear again, none of that poofy shit that you only wear once for grad and that's all. All well and fine, and the evening of the dinner dance comes and a limo comes to pick up my friends and I, we get in... rather, I ran in once my mom found out that I tossed back my champagne like it was paani. Hey, what do you expect from me, right? So we're all saying bye, waving to our parents, the limo is pulling away. I go to adjust the strap on my shoe and to my dismay I find something stuck to my dress. I lean over to see that those magnetic tags -the kind that spills ink all over your clothes if you try and pull it apart -is still tagged to my dress! Aree baap re! I can't believe my eyes. I eventually gave up because really what could I do? At least it was on the inside so it couldn't be seen. The rest of the night was buried in eating, dancing, and after-party farm drinking (another day, another story). First class, though, right? I took the dress months later (because I really am that lazy sometimes) to getthe tag removed. Within a second, it was taken out. Whew, what a funny story for grad.
So I rush to Metrotown today and I'm speed walking past people... I suppose if I converted my walking rate, it'd be at a normal Toronto walking pace. And I'm zipping in and out of stores so fast, checking out their selection and their racks (haha the clothes racks). Nothing. I finally go into Suzy Shier and voila, I see about 3 or 4 tops I like. Some lady comes over to help me, I tell her I'm looking for a top for grad. I'm pretty sure I said "grad" about 6 times to her. Maybe I didn't stress it enough. I tossed the 3 or 4 tops I see into the change room and myself right after and I try them on. I already have a difficult time finding clothes to fit my unproportionate figure. Before any of you say anything, trust me, it's hard. I finally pick one out. It's a nice top (I already know what you're thinking Farah). So I go to pay for it and race home because I'm starving and exhausted. Mom and dad come home and mom says show me the top. So I put it on and she says "Parizad, ai su che?" what's that? what's what? She points to a beautiful one inch magnetic tag pinned to my blouse. WHAT THE FUCK IS RIGHT!! (I know you are all stunned that this happened to me again). But in all seriousness, who does this happen to TWICE for GRAD!!??? I'm having this big major panic attack by this point. Bnaifer calls me and I tell her my situation and the wonderful person that she is, she comes to my rescue. She managed to take out the seam of the shirt a little bit and cut the tag out (the tag wasn't far from the seam) and then seam my shirt back together. It looks like shit from the inside but at least I can wear it tomorrow. I honestly thought that this top, for $22 was a steal! I'm sure if Bnaifer hadn't been able to help me, it would have looked like I did steal it.
Alas, my darlings, that is my story. I'm thinking that when I graduate for my Masters, and I'm leaving my shopping to the last minute (or any minute for that matter), I'm going to check for that magnetic tag before I leave the store... but knowing my luck, I'll forget what happened today and history will repeat itself. Oh well, if things like this wouldn't happen, life would be too boring... for me and you alike.