so, ridiculous story.

it’s almost 11pm and I feel awful for not having an interest in participating in Indian events or holidays anymore. I feel bad because I should keep trying to indulge in the culture as much as I can before I leave and really savor this experience. But to be completely honest, I have no interest, so desire, or even patience to tolerate being in this country anymore. This trip has been incredible and I am so grateful for getting to know my background and where my father has come from. But this has also been the most bizarre and slightly unfortunate foresight also. When I heard there was going to be a celebration within my society (apartment complex) I went out and immediately bought a pint of gin out of distress. Now, I am sitting in my bedroom being the drunkest woman in India and trying not to flip out because I want to massacre everyone in my sight.

In a state of rage I told my father I would change my name to rid myself of an South Asian influence. Just thinking about what I said makes me feel like an awful prejudice bigot. I was raised in America and just saying that out loud doesn’t mean a thing. I was raised in Las Vegas fucking Nevada, I feel like I should be more open minded towards foreigners , but all I want right now is to go back to California and forget about ever living in India because it was that terrible for me. Then again, that’s not completely true because I have had some tremendous moments I would never want to forget. I think it’s just the awful people I’ve had the misfortune of getting involved with that have driven me mad. It pains to say this awful group of people were my own blood relatives