Perspective...

Me:  Hey-I added you as a beneficiary on my new bank account.
Pritty:  Awesome!  I'm yours AND "The Boy's".

Really?

The conversation between the NASA Federal Credit Union guy and me:

Me: I'd like to open an account.

NASA: Sure.  Come on in.

Me:  Great.  Thank you.  I have one question.  I changed my name recently and have my new Social Security Card but my license is still in my maiden name.  I have been told this would be okay since the Social Security card is issued by the US Government.
NASA: Umm...I am not sure.  Let me check.

NASA:  Well, my supervisor said it has to be a picture ID or the original (not certified copy) marriage certificate.

My Brain:  Well, seeing as how that bad boy is somewhere in a storage unit in faraway Texas, that's not happening.   I drove out here and I don't want to come back just to change my name. 

Already annoyed.  Great.

Me: Okay, let's just do this since I am already here.

NASA:  Okay.  Great.  So do you know how you can qualify to open an account with us?

Me: Well...I work for NASA so I assume that qualifies me.

NASA:  Yes. It does. [Insert: Sincere but somewhat intimidated smile]

NASA:  All right.  Is it Headquarters, Goddard...

Me:  Actually, it's NASA in Houston.

NASA, after scrolling on his computer: Hmm...Hang on.  Let me ask someone a question.

NASA to Me, holding his hand over the phone mic:  There's a base in Houston? [Insert: Seriousness]

Me: Ummm... Yes. [Insert:  Utter confusion.  Umm...Helloooo "Houston, we have a problem."]

NASA to Supervisor:  Yeah, she says she works for a NASA in Houston? [Insert:  Questiony-doubt]

NASA to Me, holding his hand over the phone mic:  Is it called Houston Center?

Me: Ummm.... Johnson Space Center [Insert: Telepathic sarcasm that says "Mission. Control. Center."]

NASA to Supervisor:  Yeah, she says it's "NASA Johnson Space Center".  ... Okay.  ... Okay.  Thanks.

NASA:  I'm sorry. It's not listed here.  Let me just sign you up as an...

Me: I'm sorry.  It's not listed for NASA's Federal Credit Union?

NASA: Umm..Yeah..Well.  Umm...

Me: Okay.  Let's just do this. [Insert: Logical mini-Mamta on emotional-about-to-blow-up Mamta's shoulder saying "This isn't Verizon.  You can't just yell at them to get your way.  Remain calm."]

So I am now a member of the NASA Federal Credit Union as an associate.  Great.

My Big Apple-versary...

A last minute trip to NYC to seal the deal.  1 year was celebrated in Manhattan with great food, a lot of walking, the Subway, Soho, Broadway, and The Village.  Oh how dare I fail to mention the extremely random Broadway lottery winning to see The Book of Mormons in $155 seats for only... drum roll... $32 big ones.  Approximately 250-300 people show up, put in their names in a big vat for half an hour, and wait for the lucky front row or box seat giveaways.  22 tickets.  Ultimately 11 names chosen.  We were number 10.  Thank-you-very-much Broadway-yes, we will be seeing you again soon.  Very soon.  Oh and for the record, The Book of Mormons now rivals Rent as my favorite show ever.  Ever.

The 9/11 memorial opened up last weekend (though not completely finished) and this is one of two pools that stand in the original footprints of the twin towers. 

 I love me some NYC pizza.

 Meet me at Central Perk, okay?

Survival...

There were most definitely days in the past year that I didn't think Srin or I deserved to be in the category of the "fittest".  And I don't mean health-related.  Alas, though, as with most successful couples (our parents, our siblings, Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson), the happy days were far more memorable and copious.  Thus, we made it.  Our first year.  Just one year ago today, the festivities celebrating the Indian union of two began.  And on Sunday, we will celebrate the anniversary of finally reuniting in one city, traipsing the entire world (-ish) together, commiserating home-buying of a short sale together, living in an attic (yes, that's real), and figuring out how to live with each other and still be in love. 

You know what I mean.  Like I don't love finding socks lying around.  But I love him.  I don't love toilet seats not being closed (you have seen the 20/20 special on how many germs all jump out of that bowl, right?).  But I do love him. 

In celebration, I finally made our wedding album.  Well, the first of two.  Below is my formal one with just the good pics.  To come?  My fun one!  With all the pictures I want: of friends and family and boring, repetitive poses if I wish.  Not that I wish. I actually prefer this book with all the artsy wonderful timeless pics.  But I do wish to capture the memories spanning further than artistry so I shall now begin on my fun wedding album.  YAY!

Flying on this day...

Not as nerve-racking as imagined...

But delayed...

And randomly screened.

And saw relaxed security. I mean it doesn't take much to make fake airport badges... Shouldn't we check more closely...

One would think today would be that day...

Update: Incident. Stupid lady is trying to board out of zone and delaying us more with her insuboordinate ways. More juicy details later

Update 2: So this lady decided to not heed the Delta representatives when asked to go back and wait. She wanted to stand at the boarding jetway until it was time for her zone (the very last one, by the way) was called. She was told she couldn't stand there and needed to return to the waiting area so she literally says "Fine. Then I will board instead." At this point the other hundred of us are now rolling our eyes wondering if she knows what the date is. She is told that if she takes one more step she wouldn't be going.  We're talking outright yelling in the gate area.  She retreats, leaving me wondering why they didn't kick her out right then and there. If you had been there, you would totally agree.

More later. Taking off! Finally.  Been here for nearly four hours now...

Update 3: So enough about crazy lady. Now my lovely run-in with selfish people. I'm about to place my bag in one of the bins, which are all about full, when this guy obviously went to beat me to it. I was slightly caught off guard and was going to say something when the flight attendant decided to instead. He refused to move his bag and made it a point to tell her he refused to put it by his feet, implying his size to be the reason. I blame poor upbringing or pure rude personality. I mean I was  clearly not the only one who noticed. The sweet old lady next to me said 'Some people huh?' Coupled with the smirk and knowing agreement of the young girl on my other side, I actually felt avenged. I seem to get satisfaction from knowing I am the one who looks like the wronged wide-eyed doe. Call me Taylor Swift.

I arrived safely despite travelling on this day from our nation's capital.  See. You just gotta show em they can't scare you. God bless America.

Take that, Irene...

All is well here. Irene visited in the middle if the night, waking even me up. Her winds were ferocious, but it was nothing like Allison of 2001 (a tropical storm at landfall that sent I-10 under water). Power is out and tree branches and debris cover streets but nothing like Ike of 2008. It's something indescribable to see your city beaten to a pulp. Thankfully I am not witnessing that as much as Houston, even two weeks after Ike.

In fact, I can hardly claim to be dealing with any after-effects. We are living in the attic of the most wonderful family's house. The Vignola's are like my parents' house. You can find everything here! So luckily the engineer professor had recently purchased a generator for his research equipment and voila! We have essential power. Internet for instance. Definitely essential.

So in this calm after the storm we are blogging, eating homemade brunch strata (thanks for the recipe, Reyes), and enjoying the end of our weekend. No complaints here.

P.S. P has power so all the Patels are good.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:The District Area

Goodbye to the house that built me...

An Excerpt from Miranda Lambert's "The House that Built Me"... (the song you hear playing)

Lyrics by: Tom Douglas and James Shamblin Ii

I know they say you can’t go home again.

I just had to come back one last time.

Ma’am I know you don't know me from Adam.

But these handprints on the front steps are mine.

And up those stairs, in that little back bedroom

is where I did my homework …

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it

this brokenness inside me might start healing.

Out here it’s like I'm someone else…

I thought that maybe I could find myself.

If I could just come in I swear I'll leave.

Won’t take nothing but a memory

from the house that built me.

You leave home, you move on and you do the best you can.

I got lost in this whole world and forgot just who I am.

The first address I memorized:  2819 N Chadbourne.

Home.



Well this was the moment I was most looking forward to and dreading, all the same.  This is the moment my parents were "freed from prison", as they say.  And the same moment they had to say goodbye to 32 years of life's work.  Life's home.  The work that educated five children.  Housed them.  Raised them.  And molded them. 

And today is the moment where it has all sunk in, finally.  Just a few days ago, we sold the only true home I have ever had.  The one place I returned to every holiday, summer, and random weekends.  The one town I inevitably spurted out when asked "Where are you from?".   The state I so proudly claim as my own. 

It was not an easy move, for 32 years is a long time to accumulate...what's the word...stuff.  P, Bhik, and I returned to San Angelo's thriving Park Motel and prepared it for a new owner.  It was 110 degrees outside and 109 degrees inside (no central air).  We were wholly exhausted, yet rarely cranky.  Spirits were high despite some bumps in the road.  The end seemed as though tears should have flowed.  But, instead, we were all exhausted, barricaded by smiles and laughter amid relief and excitement for what lay ahead.  Be it as it may, we drove to closing with a packed trailer in tow.  We, most definitely, were not a crying bunch.  We waved goodbye to the Park Motel around 1PM on Thursday, August 12, 2011 and happily closed the deal by 2:15PM.  And off we went to Phoenix, AZ to settle our parents into their long awaited retirement.  And Clint babysitting. 

I'm pretty sure we were not all smiles DURING the cleaning process...  Pictures DO lie...

Just a small peek at the house post-cleaning...

An example of some things we just couldn't convince Mom to throw out.  Half bags of flour.  Roti flour.  Chick pea flour.  Flour.  Yes.  Flour.  But, we caved because...well, we made them throw out nearly EVERYTHING.  I'm pretty sure we wouldn't appreciate them going through our own homes and telling us what was junk and what wasn't...  Wow.  I just had an epiphany. Oh well... Too late.

At CLOSING!  Wow.  I am still in awe that it happened.  The guy on the left is the new owner.

A cool isolated thunderstorm on the trip out of Texas.  Apparently, when my parents moved to San Angelo with Hemben, D, and me (three weeks old), the five of us drove from California and stayed in Van Horn, Texas before reaching San Angelo.  And wouldn't you know it?  Unintentionally, the five of us (mom, dad, Bhik, P, and me) stayed in Van Horn heading in the same direction from which we originally came.  Life is a full circle, isn't it? Or nearly one at least.

HELLO RETIREMENT!  I'm not so sure it'll be easier than the motel...