I need some projects. The painting didn't really happen, so now I need to get back to my roots and just write. And what better subject to write on than myself. I don't mean that to sound conceited or to to say that I've lived anywhere near a full life already, I just believe I had the ability to be a good story teller. And the strangest stuff seems to happen to me.
In the vein of David Sedaris (whose latest book I just finished), I'd like to pen a humorous memoir. Based upon true life embarrassing, ridiculous, and hypocritical events, I'll of course change up the names and elevate the comedy level.
So far, I have the name, or at least the rough version. It's taken from a question several people in my life have asked me that has no simple answer but rather, just reveals how neurotic I am. It'll be something along the lines of, "But you're so pretty, how come you don't have a boyfriend?" I love how having a boyfriend is validation of a woman's life and how I have to validate myself in the eyes of pretty much every co-worker I ever had. Going off this back-handed diss sort of theme (you know, my failure at fulfilling people's expectations), there will be a latter chapter entitled "But you're so smart [or talented], how come you haven't been offered a job?" Can't count how many times I've gotten that question.
Perhaps I should say the book won't be about me failing to meet expectations, but rather, how preposterous it is that they are projected upon me. Ya know, a metaphor for society, or something like that. I mean, the book will be about me but hopefully be highly relatable in a disturbing sorta way to other twenty-something females.
A rather large section of the book shall be devoted to, "You speak English so good, how come you look so foreign?" Related to that will be, "But you're Indian, how come you didn't go into medicine?" Ahh, the material I have for those. Like a job interview in which the HR women reminded me that just because my skin is not white, we should treat each other differently.
Then, I'd like to explore some internal racial problems, though I'm not quite sure how that will jive with the last section. But I'd really love to include, "But you looked so nice before, why did you have to go and get dark?" I feel like I'm asked this question far too often by Indian aunties who truly believe that it's not insulting to put someone down for having a darker skin pigment. It's just an observation and truth, ya know. Ha.
Perhaps to I will explore the doldrums of middle-classness with something like "But you're dad's an engineer, how come your family has no money?" I'm sure my father's shunning of material possessions/desires will garner some laughs. Plus, not being to afford things can be comical. Like Chaplin's 'Little Tramp' character.
I shall do some women's self image exploration as well, if there's room. In order to fully analyze my insecurities, I may need a multi-book deal. I'm thinking "But you look so skinny, how can you weigh that much?" could be a book of its own. I just read in a magazine that I weigh more than pregnant and much taller than me Nicole Kidman ever did. I think that's bad for both of us (though far worse for her and her kid).
I'm sure there will be further blogs on this topic later.
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