I have been feeling so many feelings during the last week and have been having a hard time trying to figure out how to express them. Last night, I went upstairs and started singing some old school church music and I instantly felt relieved of the pressure in my chest.
So here's some Jesus for your weekend. It's not perfect, but it's my offering for all of us. Love you all.
For no other reason than to add some precious-ness to your day. Happy Wednesday! Love each other!
First things first - thanks so much to Andy Garden for taking over last week. I knew he'd kill it and he did. Okay, so I think we'll see Jasmine head home tonight. Otherwise, I don't know. It will probably be the Corinne show.
...
...
...
Some other thoughts on this rose ceremony:
PART III - Group date.
Anytime you see a group date wide shot, it's basically a microcosm of what's happening in fashion with basic white girls everywhere. This season: Ripped jeans. HIgh waisted. Capes. Crop tops.
h/t my friend Darren Kusmerik who did this because it is f-cking brilliant.
The Russian gets the rose.
...
Okay BUT REALLY WITH THE BOOBS
And this is where I leave you.
See you next week? For more of this terrible show? Hopefully Taylor can explain everything to us?
Last summer, Jordan and I decided that we really wanted to take a trip for no reason. We started saving and ended up deciding on Santa Barbara, California in the off-season in hopes that we could have a warm respite from the North Carolina cold. The week we chose also happened to coincide with my birthday!
It wasn't quite as warm as we'd expected (which is why you're going to see pictures of Jordan on multiple days in the only sweater he brought), but it was VERY fun. Every bit of this trip was as relaxing, hilarious, and romantic as I'd hoped it would be - it was like a second honeymoon! We haven't traveled just the two of us for non-work reasons since our trip to St. Lucia the day after we got married. It was really special to bond with my husband and fall in love all over again.
Are you cheese'd out? I know. Sorry. I'm just feelin' love-y right now.
Here's our trip in pictures!
The view from our hotel balcony upon waking up Tuesday morning.
Our first field trip was to The Mission, a still-functioning church founded in the 1700's.
We spent the rest of the day be-bopping around to the Courthouse (featured in It's Complicated!) and the beach before grabbing a beer in the funk zone and having dinner at Los Agaves, the best Mexican restaurant ever.
Jordan had somehow never been in a courtroom before. "Is this what they all look like?" he asked. Nope.
Wednesday was my birthday! We started the day with a hike to Inspiration Point, and I'm so glad we did.
28 was off to a good start!
Hopped down the mountain, had some great seafood for lunch at Brophy Brothers, then walked along the jetties (and got to see some sea lions! They reminded us so much of Tom Hanks!).
Okay, so that last picture needs some explaining. When we got a beer before dinner on Tuesday night, Jordan met this man, Doug, at the bar. Apparently we'd been in several of the same places that day, and Doug asked Jordan what we were in town for. Jordan invited Doug to join us for a beer, which led to us hangin' with Doug for about an hour. Since we'd picked up the second round, Doug generously offered to drive us to dinner, saving us an Uber ride. The next day, while we were sea lion-spotting, we turned around on the jetty to find DOUG! It was the most hilarious coincidence, so I pulled a "mom" and made everyone pose for a picture. Pure joy on all our faces - so funny, right?? Doug!! He became a staple of our trip.
For my birthday, my precious brother and his girlfriend, Emily, sent cupcakes to the hotel. HELLO, DELICIOUS. Jordan took me to a beautiful Italian restaurant that was only steps away from our hotel and that we'd heard raves about. It did not disappoint. Visit Toma if you can! All in all, easily one of the best birthdays I've ever had. I felt so special. Thanks to everyone who reached out to send birthday wishes - I was beaming all day!
Thursday morning after breakfast, we rented bikes from our hotel and made out way the opposite direction, up the coastline to Shoreline Park, which is basically heaven.
We stumbled upon a staircase down to the beach, so we locked our bikes and followed it down. Little did we know we'd be the only people for miles.
After we grabbed lunch, we did a little wine tasting. Our favorite tasting room by far was Cebada, run by the charming Gina. We felt like we got a special treat because the winemaker, Sandy, appeared while we were there! For about an hour, it was just us, Gina, and Sandy. Incredibly cool and (of course, because I was with my nerdy husband who asked #allthequestions) informative. I did a tasting flight paired with truffles (duh!) and I was amazed at what a difference tasting wine along with chocolate made in both the flavors of the truffles AND the flavors of the wine. Really such a cool experience.
The only picture I managed to take.
We went to dinner at a tapas restaurant called Milk and Honey, which we think must have been having an off night because YIKES. And that's all I have to say about that.
Friday, our last day, was a rainy one. But it was nice - it forced to us actually relax instead of feeling like we needed to fit everything in. Santa Barbara has been in a drought for over six years, and y'all - everyone LOST THEIR MINDS with glee when it rained. Like there'd be a little dusting and you would've thought that doughnuts were pouring from the skies. People were so thrilled at even the smallest amount of rain - made me grateful that I live somewhere where droughts are rare.
We used this day largely to revisit some places we really liked, like the brewery and the wine tasting room (sensing a theme here?). We also spent an hour relaxing in a man-made Himalayan salt cave. That was quite the experience. I don't know if the "healing powers of the salt" got to me, but the drunk women on a bachelorette party loudly whispering, "IS THAT GUY STILL IN HERE??" about Jordan definitely did. Homegirl was about to get a visit from Swift and Justice. (That's what I just named my fists. Am I pulling it off?) One loud throat-clear and she was quiet. Mostly. ;)
One more rainy beachwalk and we were almost at the end of our trip.
We had SUCH a great time on this vacation. If you are considering a California visit, I can't recommend SB highly enough. It's a small enough down that it feels "do-able" in a week, and you aren't fighting the crowds or craziness of a place like LA. Next time, we'll definitely rent a car and visit the Santa Ynez valley for a wine tour. For now, it's good to be home!
Now this is a story all about how
This world got flipped—turned upside down
I’d like to take a second
Just sit right there
And tell you how racial microaggressions have become commonplace in everyday society and will become even worse now.
---that’s how it goes, right?
Okay, so sue me. I’m not a rapper. Or Will Smith. (Though I did once date a guy with the same name when I was in high school -- true story.) And while that is basically all you need to know about me, let me tell you a little more before we begin this journey through microaggressions and safe spaces and every other awkward party topic by the end of which you’ll probably be begging me:
Let me start by introducing myself and sharing some anecdotes. My name is Neha, and my greatest claim to fame is being able to recite every single line from all three Lord of the Rings movies. A few weeks ago, I drunkenly told a guy friend I’d been crushing on that I wanted to kiss him and he responded with: “Oh, it’s getting late…I should get home.” I once failed to recognize that my emergency brake was on and “drove” for three miles before a very savvy homeless man pointed it out to me. Lastly, and most importantly: I can burp very loudly…. a skill I really like to show off in public. I also spell the word “probably” as “probabaly” 99% of the time without realizing it. #getyouagirlwhocandoboth
Hey!
And as fun as those tidbits are (yes boys, I’m single), most importantly, I’m a proud woman of color (Once you go brown—you never date down. It’s true.) who is passionate about protecting the lives, rights, identities, and nuances of the increasingly marginalized communities of America.
Which brings us to the fun portion of this post: talking about racial microaggressions!
Here’s the thing: there is no simple way to have a conversation about racial microaggressions. And after spending three years as a teacher followed up by a stint as a volunteer for the Hillary Clinton campaign, I don’t have NEARLY enough money to open up the bar tab that you will inevitably need after reading this. But here is a picture of me picking my nose when I was 5 years old to make you feel a little better:
This post is for the people in between “I really want to have a long, detailed conversation with you about race relations - but first, let’s set norms for this talk,” and “I’m interested in this but I kind of also want to close the browser.” This post is for the people out there who aren’t necessarily #woke but aren’t entirely asleep. The people who truly do not know that they’re being offensive when they make jokes about Apu from the Simpsons or assume that Slumdog Millionaire is my life story even though I was born in Ohio. For literally anyone who has ever said, “I don’t really see color,” without being legally color blind.
I’ll cut to the chase. White people, I’m talking to you. But I’m also talking to everyone who at one point in his or her life has been a benevolent racist without realizing it. Let’s get a collective yas before jumping in:
You might be scratching your head and wondering: what is benevolent racism?
I thought racism was bad and all racists were evil. Yes, true.
But the world we live in is much more nuanced than that.
Benevolent racism is what I define as “well-intentioned but damaging notions about minorities that are pre-conceived and never reconciled truthfully.” Or, to put it in less douchebaggy language: believing things about people of color that aren’t necessarily “bad” and continuing to believe those things despite being proven otherwise leading to a need for people of color to “prove” their “normality.” Sorry, still totally sounded like a douchebag—ugh, I tried.
Let me try again and make this point in a way that might make more sense AND that involves a champagne tower, because who doesn’t love a story with a champagne tower in it? #sorrymom
A little backstory: when I was in college (University of South Carolina- GO GAMECOCKS BABY) I made the decision to rush a sorority--literally one of the best choices I’ve ever made in my life…but also a decision that exposed to me to some particularly poignant moments of the above-mentioned “benevolent racism,” that I probably wouldn’t have encountered otherwise. I should also mention at this point that I was one of two girls of color in my sorority. Yup, I stuck out like a sore thumb.
Being a woman of color in predominantly white Greek life was never something I really thought was an issue; I met great people, went to fun events, and got to sleep through several chapter meetings that really boosted my nap to class ratio. But during a pre-game for a function, it became clear to me just how big of a problem my ethnicity truly was. And the realization, weirdly enough, didn’t hit me until years later.
Let’s get to the goods: we had just popped the final bottle of champagne for the tower and all the girls were lining up in the living room to take pictures when a boyfriend of a good friend of mine—let’s call him James—came up to me and said something along the lines of, “You know…people were originally really offended when you joined Greek life because you’re Indian, but once they found out you were normal, they were totally cool with it.”
Once. They. Found. Out. You. Were. Normal.
If you read that and are thinking, “OMG WHAT A RACIST,” you are correct. If you read that and though “What’s the big deal—seems like a compliment to me,” you are wrong, but not alone. In fact, at the time, I remember feeling strangely flattered.
Because here’s the thing. Being told I was “normal” by a straight, white, conservative, Christian male made me feel like I’d passed some sort of test: having escaped from the bounds of “Indian-ness” to the “cool, normative American” sphere.
AND THAT RIGHT THERE IS BENEVOLENT RACISM. The fact that despite being a Little Big Town-listening, Game of Thrones-watching, sushi-eatin’ girl in the same sorority as all of my friends, I was singled out as not being “normal,” because of my skin color. That if this guy had gotten even a whiff of the fact that I helped my mom cook rotis at home and listened to Indian music in my car all the time, I wouldn’t have been granted this honor he bestowed upon me. The fact that somehow validating my existence felt necessary for this dude, as if I weren’t perfectly validated before—all because I looked different than what was the expected “normal,” in Greek Life.
Let me be clear. There is no such thing as “normal.” The very idea of “normal” says to me and many other people of color: “Hey, I like you mostly as you are but the things I don’t understand need to go in order for me to really consider you kin.”
I’m talking about my white friends who were totally cool with me listening to T.I. in the car but who would look at me and deadpan say: “I just don’t get it” when I put on a remarkably similar Indian song. It indicates to me that the minute I jump the fence between the different aspects of my identity, everyone “normal” is watching from the other side…until something becomes easy and relatable like Bollywood or Mindy Kaling.
This lengthy period of judgment isn’t fair at all to people of color because it metaphorically forces us to “stop and go,” “pause and wait,” until people, mostly White people, get around to accepting things that they don’t see as “normal,” or “American.” And it’s understandable that things that are different always take some time to understand or process, but the uncertainty of whether or not my own “normal” is accepted by the dominant culture can be a real bitch when you’re just a 20-something trying to figure your life out.
Holding people of color to a “normative” standard of identification is not only ridiculous but reiterates racist stereotypes for future generations. My parents had to assimilate to prevent discrimination. Now I have to do the same. At some point, my children will have to as well.
As people of color, we are not allowed to be whole in the identities we were born into because it isn’t seen as “normal” or “American” thereby forcing us into a bastardization of who we truly are. We are either wholly Indian or wholly “American and normal.” We are not granted the privilege of being allowed to exist within both identities.
I call this the fishbowl vs. snowglobe theory. Both are spheres of glass but one is rigidly stiff and unmoving, while the other holds different species of fish all swimming and doing their own thang. It’s cool to tell me about Bollywood if you also ask me what my students are up to or why I thought giving myself bangs would be a good idea; that’s recognizing me for all that I am. It’s not cool to push me into one rigid idea of what you know me as and then keep me there.
Look, I’m not totally uncompromising. I love knowing when people have seen Bollywood films before and make it a point to tell me. It’s okay to recognize someone’s collective identity; what’s not okay is to ONLY recognize that person’s collective identity. Yes, I’m Indian-American and yes, I appreciate that you saw a Bollywood movie…but that should never be your opening or the only thing you talk to me about. You should never start a conversation with me by saying, “Namaste,” in the same way that you shouldn’t begin a conversation with someone who is African-American by asking if they like rap. That’s assuming that as minorities, we are only tied to the aspects of culture that you have been exposed to.
Even further, that’s also asking us as minorities to do the work in revealing to you how “normal” we are, as opposed to you taking the time to research unfamiliar things and reconciling them with who we are and recognizing a new normal. Microaggressions ultimately come from laziness nothing else and the only way to really deal with them is to unlearn, research, and relearn.
Addressing micro-aggressions might not seem important now since our incoming President has himself used terms of actual aggression toward minority groups and women. But if we are seeking to truly live in a post-racial society, we have to trim the these smaller notions before they grow into full fledged rose bushes. Because here’s the thing: we still live in a world where minorities will constantly have to prove how “normal” we are. How despite the fact that I say “y’all,”—I will still have to be scared when going through a security line at an airport. If you really want to help your friends of color, start by treating them automatically with a blank slate…not with the preconceived notions that you have of them.
So don’t be that douchebag at a pre-game that tells someone who doesn’t look like you how normal they are. Just don’t do it. Instead, watch these videos below and ask questions about things you don’t understand. You will get a lot of “it’s not our responsibility to teach you’s,” and a lot of “Jesus, what don’t you get about this, already?” but KEEP TRYING. If you really want to hold hands with communities of color (which seriously now that Trump is President-Elect, we could all use), try to reach out from beside us, rather than above us. Let’s start spreading the love instead of the various shitty covers of “Jai Ho,” that are out there:
Many thanks to Mary Catherine for letting me take over her blog for this post. And if you want to (metaphorically) picket my house or show up with (verbal) burning torches to my place of employment, my email is: ParthasN334@gmail.com
Neha, out.
Greetings Bach-Cap Nation,
Writing this guest post feels like I’m coming full circle: I wouldn’t even be watching Bachelor if it weren’t for Mary Catherine. I only started watching during JoJo’s Bachelorette season and I had no idea it could be this good.
God help us.
Come, accept this rose, and join me for what promises to be the most EXPLOSIVE episode of The Bachelor ever.
PICTURED: LIZ'S SECRET MANAGEMENT SYSTEM
LIKE IT, LOVE IT, GOTTA HAVE IT
CURRENTLY HANGING IN BACHELOR MANSION
Never forget that her "guilty pleasure" is Frasier. Frasier!
Corinne sleeps through the rose ceremony.
QUEEN.
PICTURED: NICK LACHEY WITH MEMBERS OF FEDERAL WITNESS PROTECTION PROGRAM
PICTURED: DISAPPOINTMENT. ALSO PICTURED: ACNE
HOW WE ALL FEEL.
YES. VANESSA.
STILL LESS EXPLOSIVE THAN VANESSA
"DO YOU WANNA PLAY A GAME?"
BASICALLY.
PICTURED: DOMINIQUE
SHE MAKES GREAT CHEESE PASTA
END OF THE EPISODE. BOOM.
Y'all, if you've made it this far, thanks for sticking with me! So much happened this week. I'm glad I got to spend it with you. Til next time!
