If I Was a Rich Girl...(na na na na na na na na na naaa)

I can't get that song by Gwen Stefani and Eve out of my head.

I woke up with the worst headache this morning. I stayed up to watch In America which has been showing nonstop on cable. The end was sweet and I shed a few tears. Not like Terms of Endearment bawling my eyes out, but more than any Bruce Willis movie. If I cry at the end of a Bruce Willis movie it is most likely due to the realization that I probably wasted 2 hours of my life. (Except Sixth Sense...I loved Sixth Sense). I'm particularly emotional this week (shout out to the ladies who know what I'm talkin about). Anyway, the combination of the tears and the fact that the weather has been all over the board this week, lead to a massive sinus headache this morning. My husband and I were supposed to go out during lunch but all I can think about is going back to bed.

My little sister called last night. Her fiance confirmed that he will be able to take time off in December, hence the family pilgrimage to India is on. I called my mom and worked on a plan to convince my older sister to join us. My sis says that she has work and stuff but I know that it stems from the fact that some in my family still look at her sideways since she got divorced. My sister did everything according to the great Indian plan in the sky. She married an Indian doctor who was prescreened and chosen by my aunts and uncles. They had a grand wedding with 50 of our closest family members and an additional 250 strangers, neighbors and distant, distant relatives. She brought him to America and immediately set about trying to have babies. Who knew he was a less than stellar guy with a penchant for drinking and gambling, and who apparently used her to obtain a green card. The fact that they had difficulties conceiving also added to her heartache. After they decided to go their separate ways, his exgirlfriend came to the States and they were married 2 years later. My sister has so moved on but my mother...oye...that guy better pray every night that he never sees my mom ever again. I don't think my little sister and I set out to marry American men, it's just the way it worked out. My mother smiled when I told her D and I were engaged (for she knew it was coming). She said that she knew he was a good man from the moment she met him... the fact that he loved her cooking and could eat chicken biryani 24/7 sealed the deal. As for my little sister, she met R while in college. He was willing to wait 5 years and put up with all her mood swings while she did her rotations and internships. He is most definitely a keeper. She'll be (almost) 26 when they get married this year. I keep thinking that is too young except when I do the math and realize that I had just turned 27 when I got married. That was almost 6 years ago which makes me *pulling out a calculator* 33. Our wedding was small and simple by anyone's standards. D's Irish family and my Monsoon Wedding family mixed with our friends and coworkers made it all look like a United Nation's convention. A lot has happened between 27 and 33. 2 kids. 2 mortgages. 2 cars. 2 job changes. Red dining room.

Speaking of dining rooms (how's that for a transition?!). Vig wanted ideas for his apartment so I volunteered pictures of our new dining room. We instantly fell in love with this house 6 years ago and overlooked its many deficiencies, including lack of space. We have since added a master bedroom and dining room which I have had lots of fun decorating. Decorating the house has temporarily relieved me of my shoe shopping addiction.



Everyone loves the red except for my mom. Her reaction was "it's red".

Have a great weekend everyone!