Saturday, November 25

day 10947: I *heart* my grandmother

My grandmother worries about me. She worries that I work too hard, and worries that I’m not getting out enough. She worries that I’m not meeting any new people, and that I’m slowly become a spinster because no man wants an aging asian girl who’s got bigger biceps than he.

Of course this being the weekend before I turn 30 (*egad*) and me being her only single grandchild over the age of 18 (quite possibly her ONLY single grandchild actually), her poor heart has been in palpitations over the uncertainty of my future. She really, REALLY wants a man in my life to take care of me and can’t accept my arguments that I’ve done a rather fine job (if I do say so myself) of taking care of myself. As usual, she not so subtly prys into the state of my singleton status.

[ed note: Every time we’re together and out of protective earshot of the maternal one, she brings up the subject of men and how to find one. Let me tell you, she really digs the whole set-up process and still really digs the one that she “found” a few months earlier (i.e. my cousin’s friend who is a good few years younger than I, who I have met before, and suspect to this day that my cousin already tried to set us up without me knowing). And contrary as I am, I have a slight aversion to the whole setup process, especially if my family is involved… no offense (thank you for trying), but I like to do things my own way, and in my own time.]

I’ve come to expect her questions, and usually temper my answers with as much humour as I can muster in my miserable Cantonese. I tell her that I’m working too hard to date anyone, that I’m not into asian boys, that I’m trying to find myself, and occasionally ask if it would it be okay if I didn’t end up married like everyone else in the family because I’m thinking of becoming a nun and joining a monastery (whoops… nunnery) even though I’m agnostic and nonreligious. I tell her that I’m thinking of moving to a beach somewhere and giving into the whole free-love movement (albeit belated) and just living with a couple of men and my dog for the rest of my life.

Either my Cantonese really sucks or she ignores me, but she continues telling me how worried she is about me, and how she goes to church to pray for me and my future husband… and that my future husband will find me soon.

So this time I did the unthinkable. I gave her hope.

I told her about boy-who-will-not-yet-be-named and the giant crush that I have on said boy-who-will-not-yet-be-named. I answered her twenty questions on who, what, when, where, how, asian/not-asian, professional/not-professional, mutual/not-mutual, blah blah blah…

She thinks I should aggressively pursue (aka borderline stalk) this one. He sounds that good (on paper). She asked for his name so that she can start praying for him too. I've saved myself for the time being, but the poor boy, what have I gotten him into?

Thank goodness, she hasn't been exposed to the powers of the Internet...

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