Thinking.....

Summer of 2000 was one of the “fun-est” periods of my life. I was in-between Grad school and work, waiting for the elusive OPT card (that would permit me to work in the United States) to be mailed to me, I had little to do except wander around shopping for work-clothes (read: clothes I never wore to work) and attending farewell parties for numerous people I had grown to know so well, some friends for this lifetime and more and some of who I wish I never got to know at all. The afternoons would be spent reading novels and gossiping and doing my nails. Little did I realize that that summer was the last vacation of my life that would be longer than 2.5 weeks. During which I would not need to take 19 hour trips to India or think/organize/arrange my life to painstaking detail for 2 months before the vacation so I could chill for 2.5 weeks. Ah, I was naive and I thought life after getting that thesis to the Grad school after the 100th “suggestion” by my advisor was incorporated, was going to be a ball. I would have more money, more freedom and I would finally be that independent career woman. I soon found out that working full-time does not mean you have more money, it just means you have more expenses. And freedom, that’s a very relative term. But that summer was good. It was also the first time I saw an Oprah show. Now, these are not so bad actually and sometimes you get to see these really smartly dressed celebrities gushing to Oprah while she gushes to them. But sooner or later, along came Dr.Phil and that is when my migraines would start. Now I hear that his own exclusive show named Dr.Phil(!) has been renewed for the next decade or 1000 years or something of that order. WOW, I think. If a man can talk about “tough love” and make that kind of money, what is my Mom doing? She has been a proclaimer for tough-love for as far back as I can remember. “Toughen up” summarized all her standard rules for doing well in life and it was closely followed by “No self-sympathy please.” Whiners were not tolerated and some days when I hear somebody whining and complaining about the situation they are in, or myself for that matter, I wish my Mom could be there just to give this person a good shake. Nobody could do it as she could. I lack that touch. Yes, she would make a great Dr.Phil. Problem is, she hates to interfere in peoples’ lives, unlike me. Now if only we could get my slightly pokey-nature to go along with her, we would have that wonderful, love-to-listen-to-your-problems-and-help, smiling-yet-frowning-in-concentration Dr.Phil. We would be great, I tell you. My curiosity would ebb them on and my Mom would deliver that grand intervention-sermon in the end, when everyone sees the light. We would tour America and make billions. Ah, but that ship has sailed. She is the wonderful homemaker that she is and I just do what I do, accompanied by occasional muses like this. Maybe I will just live vicariously through my children one day. That can be quite a bit of fun. For me. For them, not so much. But they can maybe just “help” themselves. It always pays to have a shrink in the house.