Texts from Last Night

Sorry to disappoint but I don't have any texts from last night to share. However, there is a blog out there where people can anonymously submit their funny texts.

texts from last night is similar to Overheard in NYC. They are hilarious, and the only form of identification is the area code.

Enjoy!

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Thank You J.K. Rowling

I told RedSox if he told anyone my boards scores, we would be done. I was half-kidding, but I did mean it when I told him if he told me the end to Harry Potter we would be done.

I know I should currently be observing my 5th coronary artery bypass grafting, but each doctor does the exact same thing. Each patient is there for the same reasons: 80% blockage of the three major heart vessels after coming into the hospital complaining of chest pain while sitting down (unstable angina... emergency).

Instead of standing in the OR "watching" I decided to do something more productive... like finish Harry Potter.

I checked the OR schedule, estimating a finish time of 1pm for the surgery. I put on my scrubs so no one could question me around the hospital. I put the book in my school bag, ventured through an empty hallway, down the steps, through the dental school building and made it safely and unseen to the med school library.

It was 7:48am and the library had only been open for 3 minutes. I ran up to the next level, pulled one of the cozy arm chairs into a private study room and planted my butt, book in hand.

I smiled, laughed, worried... and cried. Yes people. Roxy can cry. Apparently only at fiction. The last time I remember these kinds of tears I was watching the Fox and the Hound. One told the other they couldn't be friends anymore. I cried. It was discrimination! Why couldn't a fox and a dog be friends?!

All I can think to say is Thank You J.K. Rowling. Thank you for your incredible imagination. Thank you for re-awakening the kid in me, the dreamer. Thank you for brightening my current state of misery.

Simply, Thank You.

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Burn Celebrity "News"

I'm pretty dissapointed in our society. Years ago, I remember the only tabloid in existence was the national enquirer. I occasionally read some of it while waiting in the grocery line, but the stories were so ridiculous I just couldn't comprehend any of it as truth.

Then a new marketing plan came into play. Glossy pages, lots of pictures, a few true stories and best of all... make it look like a legitimate magazine.

I almost fell for it. Luckily I have a bigger brain and stronger mind, never forgetting who I am and what I want. My plan is pretty simple: Have a happy life.

Break it down to having happiness and having a life.

When I read the following story, "Reporter hailed for killing Hilton story", I couldn't have been happier. FINALLY! Someone in the media stood up for true journalism, true news reporting, important issues and concerns.

The same thing should be done for all celebrity reports. Ban that crap to Entertainment channels.

Ok that was rude. Not all celebrity news is crap. Truth is I feel sorry for people who are obsessed with celebrities. They're missing out on a great education... missing out on having their own life.

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Lecturing Family

I know it's Mother's Day and I should be telling my mom how much I love her and how fabulous she is and how I'd never be the person I am today without her, but today I felt it was more important to thank my mom for all that stuff briefly and let her know how she can be better.

Stay with me... it's not cruel (entirely). It's reality.

This morning I get a phone call from Sister, "Next week when I'm in Greece with Mom and Dad, I'm going to have a talk with them."

hmmm... ooookaaayyy

"I'm going to tell them that they stress me out. They're too dramatic. I can't take their drama anymore. My dating life sucks because of them."

I've always felt badly for my sister. She is an affectionate person, and she has rarely received any affection in return. If I wanted to play with her toys, I would have to play "huggies" where she would grab me tight and hug me. I hated huggies, but I really wanted to play with her toys so I agreed.

Sister spent the first 3 years of her life in India with my grandparents while my parents established their lives and careers here in America. Ever since, she hasn't quite felt connected to them.

She and my dad get along really well. My mom and I get along really well. Cross-overs lead to clashes, but in general it is India vs. America. Now it's becoming adults vs. older adults.

Sister needs our parents' approval. She wants them to be happy for her and her decisions. She is tired that things are their way or the highway. It sucks for both of us that our achievements are expected rather than celebrated, that the guys we date are dollar signs and looks rather than compatible partners in life, that money equals control... and so much more.

I think the main issue has been that Sister and I are COMPLETE opposites in how we handle our parents... and how they handle us.

Me: I don't give a shit about what my parents have to say. I enjoy spending their money without guilt. I'm happy to do what they want when I agree with it. I cut off communication when they piss me off. They are so afraid that I'll run off and cut ties that they will pretty much succumb to all my demands. I play their game to win... and while my feelings have been hurt quite a bit, I know that they are who they are and they don't know how to be anything but themselves.

Sister: She needs their approval. She wants their advice. She tries to pay them back when they offer her money. She does EVERYTHING they tell her to whether she wants to or not. She calls every weekend. My parents know Sister depends on them, and they only leave her alone when she flips out on them.

Well... she has reached her breaking point (finally). Nothing is going to be good enough for them, and that is NOT her problem. She needs to tell them how they have made her feel. She needs to tell them what she is afraid of (they'll disown her if she disobeys, they'll stop loving her). After mom stops crying, she needs to tell them again, and again and again.

Today when I was hanging out with my mom, she brought up issues with the cousins. Apparently my cousin D wants to go to medical school through the military even though his parents will totally pay for his ride. I told my mom that D knows what he is doing. He always has and always will.

This was a perfect segway into Sister and I. I told my mom that she and dad need to trust that they have raised us very well. The decisions we make are ours to make. The advice they give us may be from their experience, but sometimes we need to make our own mistakes... and for the love of all that is holy... every guy we bring home is NOT the guy we are going to marry. She and dad may have been arranged, but Sister and I like to date around... ok I do.

My mom got defensive about the last part until I reminded her about how she cried and suffered from insomnia after she met ex-boyfriend. Check Mate.

Will things change? Unfortunately probably not, so I hope sister can understand that she needs to make better decisions in her life. Choose NOT to let mom and dad's negativity bother her. Choose not to let them stress her out. Know they will not abandon her. In the unlikely event that they do disown her, I won't!!! Half of my inheritance is hers... after I've picked through all the goodies.

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Interracial Dating

"To me, women are like Skittles. I'll eat all colors."- Dark Sarcasm

A woman asked Moxie for advice on internet dating. She was upset because anytime she wrote a post on craigslist seeking a white man, her post would get flagged and removed and men of other races would email her calling her a racist.

I've had this happen to me for the exact same reason. I prefer white men. I like pasty skin. I loooooove blond hair. It's my preference and I should be allowed to say so.

It's saves both me and the men reading my ad a lot of time. I don't have to sand down my pointer finger clicking the delete button, and he doesn't have to worry about courting a woman who is just not that into him.

It has dissapointed me in the past when I've wanted to respond to a craigslist ad and the author specifically requested a race that didn't include brown, but ultimately it is his loss... and actually it's better that I don't get hurt in the end.

I wish it were a perfect world where people are just people and racism doesn't exist, but preferences will always exist. I also prefer my men to have a tight ass, does that make me assist?

Well fine then... I'm an assist.

Regardless of the derriere, I do encourage all people to try dating outside their preferences, especially if you haven't been successful in dating. RedSox may be white, but that's about the only preference of mine that he actually has. I took a chance, and I couldn't be happier.

So why not take a chance on a person from a different race? Admit that you prefer white, but try not to be opposed to other colors. As Dark Sarcasm continued to say, "We're all black when the lights go out, baby!"

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The Prince & Me

I'm not really one to keep up on celebrity gossip, but when my future husband is involved I must!

After 5 years, I did fear he would end up marrying Kate. She is beautiful, elegant, poised, polite and loved by England. But truth be told... She is no match for Roxy.

I wouldn't say I am better than she yet, but I've been keeping up with Flavor of Love's Charm School.

Kate should have known.

Men in their 20s still wanna be boys and have fun. Men in their 30s worry they will end up alone. Men in their 40s pay for everything.

The Lesson: Date accordingly.

Once I finish residency, I'm sure William will be ready for me.

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Just Say It!!!

I have been guilty of yelling at my friends for not communicating what they want to their significant other. But now that I'm in a relationship, Shut Up I finally acknowledge it, I find myself doing the exact same thing.

I've got a rigorous study schedule for the USMLE and it keeps me at school from 9am to 9pm. Tonight I found myself semi-whining to RedSox. "Well I FINALLY finished my studying for the day... Guess I'll make the LONG WALK home... Jeez I am TOTALLY exhausted."

After a little bit more, he offers to come pick me and drive me home. If I was a complete bitch (Quiet in the peanut gallery), I would have accepted and taken the ride home. The truth is I wanted to see him tonight. I wanted him to want to see me.

I could have asked, "sooooo do you wanna hang out tonight?" or blatantly stated "I want to see you." But I didn't. I worry about overstepping the boundaries. I have no freakin clue what the boundaries are, but I simply don't want to overwhelm RedSox.

We both have an intense fear of relationships and committment. Yet we are monogamous and completely committed to each other. We just won't admit it.

And ok fine... I don't want to be the first one to make the move.

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There's a new sugar daddy in town

I love to shop, but I am what one might call a budget fashionista. I don't buy anything unless I absolutely love it. I will try to get the best deal possible. If there is a rewards program, a contest, anything involving the word FREE... I'm involved.

While this has worked incredibly well for me, I can't help but yearn for more. I love Gucci, Dior, Louis, and all up and coming designers. I find myself complaining that I need a sugar daddy.

I've searched for one. I've tried out a couple, but I guess I'm not really up for it. The reality is I want to be spoiled by a man who WANTS to spoil me and by a man I WANT to spoil me. This is rare. This is difficult. This is damn near impossible.

Or is it?

A few weeks ago, RedSox brought up a dating website that is for sugar daddys/babies. He thought it was hilarious... I told him I had a profile on it.

He wasn't surprised, nor was he was he shocked when I told him about LV. The only thing he found surprising was that I didn't spend more money. Wha?

We never really talked about it again, but RedSox would drop snipits here and there whenever I talked about my latest purchase. "You know... I could have bought that for you."

I brushed him off. I was afraid to have someone I actually liked, someone who's company I enjoyed, someone I respected buy stuff for me. I almost feared it would cheapen our relationship.

Saturday after brunch, RedSox asked me what I wanted to do. We were already on Newbury Street (the Rodeo Drive/Rue Montmartre/5th Avenue of Boston). I suggested going to the movies or going shopping. He wanted to go shopping.

We went into Diesel first. They had stuff for both sexes. Neither one of us liked anything. Then we went into a cheap jewelry store. I needed to plug some of the holes in my head. I picked out a few earrings and went to the register to pay. RedSox asked me if I wanted him to pay.

I was caught off-guard but replied with "It's only $20, not a big deal for me." His response was that it wasn't a big deal for him either, and out came his credit card.

Fine... a few earrings.

We went upstairs to Bebe. Is it me or is the one on Newbury the "slutty" one. I know every salesgirl was wearing Bebe... but dayam! It was booty-fest 2007!!

Nothing good in Bebe for me. I wanted to go to Jasmine Sola because their was a top/mini dress I wanted to purchase. I picked it out and tried it on for RedSox. While I was in the fitting room, he went off and grabbed tons of jeans for me to try. I tried them for him. Then he grabbed a Lacoste shirt and a belt. Everything looked good, but I just wanted to buy what I came for and leave.

He wanted me to get a pair of Rock & Republic jeans, Lacoste top and red belt. I didn't want to spend the money. He said he would buy them. I said "how about I buy my top and the belt. You can get the jeans and Lacoste top?"

At the register he cut me off and paid for it all.

Le sigh.

That's when I called him my Sugar Daddy...

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A Private Practice with a White Picket Fence

Growing up, we kids were taught to be independent. "Do well in school, study hard, get a good job! You must be able to take care of yourself. Don't depend on others. When we're gone, you have to stand on your own two feet!"

So that is what Sister and I have been trying to do. We did really well in school. We went to great colleges. We're doing well in the medical field. (Ok I still have 1000 years left to go, but she is an Attending). We're loving life and enjoying our independence as best as we can.

I say as best as we can because a few years ago, our parents (mom) turned the tables. Suddenly we were told to get married. You heard me. "Find a husband to take care of you, give us grandkids, once you get married we can relax."

I was appalled, but I haven't felt it as much as Sister. The second she graduated medical school, mom was on her ass. "Are you dating anyone?" Dad was already checking online, arranged-marriage websites. It didn't end. It still hasn't. It is officially harassment.

Dad has stepped back. I'm sure only superficially to make mom look like the bad guy... and because we have reamed him out... and he freaks out when women gang up on him.

Now they're slowly but surely starting on me. They're not quite sure how to go about it though. I'm a bit of a firecracker when they try to dictate my life. I do whatever will keep me in control... and allow me to spend their money.

Not only do I tend to do what my parents want, I also tend to do what I want. The desires are often polar opposites, but I manage to get both done.

I'm not quite stuck, but I know I'm miserable right now. I love medicine, but I hate medical school. I really like RedSox, but I fear missing out on something better... someone better...

I don't know if I can do it. I don't know if I'll be able to have both. Somebody is going to be disappointed, and I'm pretty that person will be I.

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Relationship Milestones... huh?

There are a lot of "milestones" that I don't get. I wasn't raised to think that these things are a big deal, but apparently they are. Here are my thoughts:

1. Taking the guy I'm dating to a wedding.
What is the big freakin deal? I'm not inviting him to a wedding to plant seeds of marriage in his mind. I'm inviting him because there is gonna be an open bar, and I'd like to guarantee the sex for the evening so that I can focus my time on drinking rather than flirting.

2. Having a toothbrush at his place.
This is not the next step in a relationship. This is not any step. I don't have any cavities, and I plan to keep things that way. I don't like bad breath. I hate carrying my toothbrush around.

3. Meeting his friends.
I tend to meet a guy's friends at the same time that I meet him... my guy is the winner.

4. Spending the night at his place.
umm... quite often the night I meet him or the second date. What? I've got needs.

5. Meeting his parents.
This one is ALWAYS his choice and his doing. I never get nervous. My education and my parents money pretty much guarantee they love me.

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Cover Girl

I don't wear make-up. A little bit of eye-liner once in a while, but my pencil is YEARS old... and I have yet to sharpen it.

I don't like the idea of "looking like i'm not wearing anything." Clearly I am. So if I'm going to wear make-up why not be an artist's canvas? Make it fun, make it fabulous, make sure it comes off...

Last night RedSox asked me if I ever wear make-up. "You are really hot, so wouldn't make-up make you look even HOTTER?"

Yes. It absolutely does, but I fear becoming an illusion. I fear becoming one who looks great at bedtime, but hideous in the morning. I fear I will try to find imperfections to cover up. I fear I will waste a lot of money on stuff that I will never use.

I have been blessed with good skin, large eyes and pouty lips. I don't think make-up would do anything, but I asked Roomate for her opinion. She has an entire drawer dedicated to make-up.

She asked me if I thought she looked really different with make-up. No

She asked me if she looks hideous in the morning. No

She asked me to try.

So I did... and I think I like it.

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Yes, looks do matter

RedSox and I went to lunch with his friends today, and a video from the past was the topic of conversation.

In 8th grade, RedSox and his friend went to Universal Studios and did a Star Trek video where they played the role of officers in training superimposed on actual film from Star Trek movies. The video was hilarious because of their poor acting skills, their trekkie suits... and RedSox as a pork chop with coke-bottle glasses.

Afterwards, we watched a video from his senior year of high school where he and a couple of friends acted out Canto I of Dante's Inferno. I nearly had a heart attack when 18 y.o. RedSox appeared on the screen. He was HOT HOT HOT! Seriously.

I know I have had a ton of issues about his weight, but I got over them. Then I see what he looked like in high school. Holy Crap!

I waited until his friends left and out it came, "You were wicked hot in high school!"

RedSox joked how funny it is that every girl who has seen his Inferno video has made the same comment. He then asked me if I think he would be better looking if he lost weight.

You know how guys freak out when women ask "Does this make me look fat?"

Yeah that's how I felt.

I told him that after all these months I clearly found him attractive. Losing weight would be better for his health... 1, 2, 3... "YES YES, I do think you would look hotter if you lost some weight."

Gawd I felt like an ass, but with-holding the truth has NEVER been my forte.

Thankfully, RedSox wasn't offended. He appreciated my honesty and thinks he should drop a few pounds. Once his stress at work is over, he plans to get back into boxing.

I know what I'm about to say is completely superficial but if he can drop down to his high school physique, I think I will have the man of my dreams.

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Roxy & Moxie

I used to work as a model for fun. Stylists showed off their skills on my hair and face. Companies had me promote their products to no end.

When SingleGirl asked for help running a Moxie in the City Quiz Dating event, I jumped on board. I had free time. I had experience... I had no idea was quiz dating was so I had to find out.

I have never participated in a singles event. I meet men at bars, walking along on the street, on the train and my favorite... through craigslist. I figured running a singles event would be a great way to check one out, avoiding anxiety and awkwardness.

Women arrived first, and I must admit I was pleasantly surprised. Most were attractive. They would never stand out in a crowd, but definitely cute. Then the men started arriving... oh boy. A few were unattractive and the rest were average joes.

I could tell a lot of the women weren't pleased, but I think everyone decided to make the most of the evening... and it turned out to be a huge success.

I sat on the sidelines observing the event as SingleGirl took on her role as quizmaster. People laughed, joked and high-fived each other with every question. Drinks flowed. Munchies dissapeared. After each round, the men rotated to the next table. More laughs and mingling went on.

By the end of the trivia portion, everyone had met each other. SingleGirl passed out prizes, then she and I packed up to leave. Before we did I took one last look at everyone. The small groups had pulled their tables together. Everyone looked happy, and no one was getting ready to leave.

I am looking forward to the next event, and as a promo girl I want to make sure you at least know about it. Soooo...

Take the time to check out Moxie in the City. There are a ton of events in several cities, and they're more creative than the standard singles event. Maybe I'll see you there.

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A melting pot or a mixed platter?

I never paid attention to diversity in Boston until last night.

After a stressful day at school, I just wanted to relax. RedSox wanted to see me and suggested dinner at a new restaurant I had mentioned.

I went to gym, showered, felt refreshed... decided I wanted to go someplace different for dinner. I made a reservation for Bob's Southern Bistro.

I had been to this restaurant when it was formerly known as Bob the Chefs. It is a great place for music and comfort food. Last night was no different.

As we sipped our drinks and listened to music, I couldn't help but look around at all the diners. There was quite the mix of people. Black, white, asian, older, younger. Even the band was black, white and asian. I loved it!

The evening didn't stop there. We continued on to Wally's where we experienced the same diversity as we met up with friends. I was the only non-white person in our group. I never thought about it before, but I had to bring up the topic of diversity in conversation.

My friend Madge talked about diversity around the world and country, saying Denver was one of the worst cities. People apparently make racist comments all over, and no one thinks twice about it.

It should be interesting when I go to Denver next month...

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All we need is just a little Patience...

When I asked RedSox if we were celebrating Valentines, I inquired with curiosity and defense.

"Did you want to celebrate Valentines? Because I'm totally not expecting to and perfectly fine not doing anything since we're just middle ground."

"Actually I assumed we were. The date just creeped up on me"- RedSox

Growing up I was taught that Valentines is the one day out of the year that a man can show he is romantic, and all the commercial industries offer plenty of help so that much thought isn't needed... and yet somehow most men still fail.

I've never experienced the failure. Either I've been single on Valentines, or I went ahead and planned the holiday. There is no failure when I do the work.

When I told this to RedSox, he said that he wanted to plan it. I had a bit of an anxiety attack because this meant reliquishing control, but I submitted and also started thinking of other plans since I was sure he would fail.

I get every single events/restaurant/entertainment email one could possibly receive in Boston, so I knew of pretty much everything going on for Valentines. I deleted most of them because I wasn't planning the day. One did strike me, though. It was a Valentines dinner with live Sinatra music. I had to tell RedSox, because I just LOVE Sinatra.

He jokingly got mad at me for trying to plan Valentines, and he told me that he planned on cooking for me. I was pretty excited because I love men in the kitchen.

The day before Valentines he asked me about Mistral, my favorite restaurant in Boston, because his friend wanted to know my thoughts on it. I told him to tell his friend that it is my favorite restaurant but I'm sure it's booked for the holiday. RedSox admitted he was the "friend," and figured that was the case.

I thought he was cooking for me?

At this point I pretty much decided the holiday was going to be a wash-out, but I wouldn't be upset because I already assumed he was going to fail.

On Valentine's day, a snow storm hit Boston. RedSox and I chatted online throughout the day. Before he signed off, he told me he would call about picking me up.

Around 6pm I felt a twinge of hunger. I called just to get an idea of what time. He was at the grocery store buying everything and told me 7pm. Around 6:45pm, I received a delivery of roses. They were beautiful and I forgot about the time.

At 7:30, I felt hungry and called again. He was still out buying stuff, apologized and said he would drop everything off and come over. At 8:15, I ate a piece of cake.

At approximately 8:45pm, he picked me up. I'm not mad though. This is what happens on Valentines... plus I had beautiful roses to stare at.

When he opened the door to his place, there were candles lit all over the place and he had Sinatra playing in every room. He opened a bottle of Pinot Noir from the Willamette Valley and banned me from the kitchen to cook. I relaxed with great wine and some TV.

The meal was excellent. Everything was fabulous.

I realized I need to have a little more faith in men and exercise patience, because I'm sure I couldn't have planned anything better.

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Expectations

Beans and I have been friends since childhood. Our families go to the same church, so we got to see each other almost every week. Unfortunately going to college and attending different churches kept our group apart. Friendships thinned to only seeing eachother on major religious holidays.

She called me earlier in the week to see if I could hang out, so I made a girl-date for Friday evening. We met, got drinks, and really started catching up. She knows about my cousin's divorce, so we talked about the pressures of being an Indian woman.

All the mothers in our Indian clique love Beans the most. She respects her elders. She speaks our language very well. She still wears traditional clothing to church. She wanted to get married to an Indian guy, and she was trying to do it according the the standard Indian timeline... no later than 26 years old.

Last year Beans got engaged to an Indian guy. (Her mother started to set her up at 21). At 24, she met her match (on her own) and they were getting hitched. I never met the fiance, but Beans sent me a link to their wedding webpage. He looked hideous, but she was happy. Or so I assumed...

She asked me to take time off to come to her engagement party, but a week before the party she announced the wedding was off.

I was the last to hear for some reason, but I called her as any good friend would. I didn't care for details. I just wanted to make sure she was ok and wouldn't engage in any unhealthy behavior to cope.

A few supervised binge-drinking experiences were enough, and she moved on. That was pretty much the last I heard from her.

During our girl-date on Friday, she opened up about her life. She didn't really love the ex-fiance. She was only getting married to get her mother off her back, and to please the other mothers in our church. Beans felt like she was every FOB's last hope for cultural survival in America. The pressure was on her because I was dating every white man burnt by the sun, and the other girls were off doing their own thing too.

I had no idea Beans felt this way, but I assured her that living her life for anyone other than herself is the worst way to live. Trying to please our mothers was the reason my cousin J landed in an abusive relationship and is currently going through a painful divorce.

We discussed it all and concluded that it's never too late to live your own life, so I hope we all start doing that if we haven't already.

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