The Greek Bachelorette, Part II

You can catch up with Part I, HERE. You should, it will make more sense.

This past week, my family had an impromptu family dinner night in the middle of the week, which is not typical for us since we all have very different schedules.

During dinner, my mother reminds me of the Greek radio station debacle and tells me that there has been an UPDATE: I have a gentleman caller. Actually a few gentleman callers, but my aunt has been prescreening candidates and has narrowed it down to just one. And apparently, this guy Kosta, a late 30's doctor from Long Island, AND HIS MOTHER are really, really, REALLY looking forward to meeting me.

I just started laughing. "You can't be serious."

My brother chimes in and says, "Oh no, she's completely serious."

So I continue laughing, and say, "Haha, so what did you say to them?"

And no one answered immediately.

And then my mother says, "What are you doing on Saturday? You're always doing something on Saturdays* why don't you spend it with us?**

*My parents think I have actual social plans. I often DO have plans but I always prefer to just sit on my bed and do the things I want to do. Which I will show you at the end of this post.

**I have already fallen for this, come-to-dinner-and-spend-time-with-us ploy once before just to be set-up with a Greek weirdo, so I was NOT falling for it again.

"NO! You didn't?! You invited him over here?! There is no way. No way. That is so weird!!!"

"Why is it weird? It's not weird. You're weird!"

"No MOM! It's weird! It's not like we even know them! They're from Long Island. I don't know anyone on Long Island who is Greek. I would like to keep it that way. I'm not going to have complete weirdo strangers here. What if we don't like them? And it's awkward?"

My Dad, unhelpfully suggests with a laugh: "Well, you can go sleep on the couch in the other room like you did last time."

Me, imploringly: "No! Dad! Come on. You're supposed to be on my side on this. This is weird, right?"

Dad: "No, come on, Maria, it's not that weird. You might like him. What if you like him? And he's a doctor."

That's when I noticed the glint in my Dad's eye. And that was either because of the riches he imagined this guy to have or because this was all a big practical joke, like the kind my family always, always plays on each other. 

(Examples: the time we splattered crumbled chocolate cake pop mix all over the garage floor and told my Dad the dogs had explosive diarrhea and he had to clean it up; the fake snakes we put in the grill, doorways, laundry baskets, etc. to scare the shit out of each other; and just the raging lies we tell each other to wind each other up and then get to dismiss them after they reach hysteria with "Dude, RELAX. You're so crazy.")

Me: "You guys are lying. This is a joke, right? They're not really coming, are they?"

And that's when my brother says gleefully: "No Maj.** They're coming. Why else do you think we're all here for family dinner in the middle of the week? I'm still here just because I've been waiting for your reaction. Get me the popcorn!!"

**Maj is my family's nickname for me. I could try to phonetically tell you how it's said, but I don't know that anyone gets it until you hear it. And I could've written Maria there, but my brother almost never calls me that and it felt false to write anything other than Maj.

And that's when my stomach sank. I knew my brother was right. This WAS real. That's why we were having dinner that night. So they could tell me.

"No. No! I don't care Mom. I never asked for this. I don't want him to come here. I don't want his mother to come here. If you want to date his mother, go right ahead and but keep me out of this. I don't care, I will not be here on Saturday, so do whatever you want but I WILL NOT COME."

"Just look at his picture. Maybe you'll like him. And he's a gynecologist."

And then the entire room erupted in laughter.

Me: "A gynecologist??! That is SO weird. That confirms it. NO NO NO. So creepy!! A gynecologist who has his MOTHER set him up on dates? What is wrong with him? Does he not know how to talk to women, just their vaginas?"

More laughter.

Me: "And can you imagine what it's like to be with a gynecologist? He'd probably be all awkward and gentle about everything. 'OK, Maria, I'm going to gently insert two fingers in you. You'll feel a little pressure and it'll be over in 2 minutes.' Um, no thanks!!!!"

Everyone is dying of laughter - except my Dad, and yes, it's a little weird to talk about these kinds of things with your father in the room, but whatever, this was comedy gold and I was not going to waste these jokes.

And it's not like he got to hear the jokes between my coworkers and I when I recounted this story for them the next morning. It was funny because I started just telling my small core group, but by the end of it, I was quite animated, and I stopped myself at one point and said, "Is someone listening?" And one of my friends answered, "Um... everyone is." It was a good solid half hour of laughter and two departments' worth of people offering their opinions and humor.

Sample line: "Um, yes, excuse me Doctor. What do I do if there's, forgive the expression, too much cheese on the taco?"

Anyway, back to dinner. My mother implores me again to just look at his photo.

I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe her to show me on her phone. Or to pull out a computer-printed pixelated photo that I was going to have to squint at.

No. Instead, she pulls out an 8x10 EFFING GLOSSY!!!!!! Who even has those?!

He sent in a glossy photo of himself in what was presumably his med school yearbook photo doing the Rodin Thinker pose:

apologies to Alan Thicke

But then there was a moment when I stopped laughing and couldn't bring myself to laugh anymore. It wasn't that he was hideous (he actually wasn't, to quote Cher Horowitz, completely unfortunate looking). It was just that the picture made it real. That there was a real person who wanted to meet me, who's entire family was also equally, if not more so, anticipating meeting me and the pressure of all that, the expectation on me, it overwhelmed me.

And I just stopped joking, and said emphatically that no, I did not want to meet him. And I think my parents saw that I was serious, and they quickly said I didn't have to worry.

My brother however immediately posted this to my Facebook wall:

And during my emphatic no, during the no-more-laughing, do you know who the first person I thought of? The person that my gut reaction to think of was?

You. All of you. The first thing I thought of and felt immediately protective of was my blog.

I know I will not be able to articulate the thought, and I haven't discussed it in therapy yet to be able to formulate the words, but I felt protective of my blog and my ability to have it. And I just felt, an old school Greek guy who has his mother set him up on dates and wants to meet my entire family before even taking me out to coffee let alone dinner, would never, ever, ever understand me. Or my blog is me, or a part of me that I am protective of.

It's what I've always understood but never could formulate and maybe if you're not Greek you won't get it, but they're just too old school to understand that I'm not a typical good Greek girl. I don't spend my day hoping a nice Greek boy is going to find me attractive, I don't go to distant relations' weddings, baptisms, parties, etc. to get the Greek gossip or talk about who's diner is going under or who is dating who or whatever Greek drama is going around. 

That guy in the photo, however unfairly maybe, I just felt, that guy in the photo would never understand me or my blog or get me, whatever that means, and get why I update my status like I do, and why I post what I post.

Like, chatting with a friend of mine to tell him how excited I am about my purchases this weekend, which included a new haircut, highlights and coraly/pink/red jeans!!! And how I got all of those things in one cute picture and how I don't care how attention-ho-ish it is to post it on here too, but this is what I do on my Saturday nights and what I post on my Sunday mornings and I'm always gonna go with my gut.

Which told me to post this picture. Enjoy!

I do it for YOU, blog readers. I do it for YOU!!