My So Called (Asian) Life: Part One

My model Asian family circa 2003 

My Top Pet Peeves 

The Guessing Game

Basically, when people see me, they immediately like to figure out where my ancestors are from as if they’re cool detectives on the case of This Asian’s Origin. I’m not kidding when I say that this always happens when I meet a new person. Some will ask something along the lines of, “Where are you from?” in a tone with notes of politeness mixed with curiosity but also notes of ignorance. I really just want to say, “Would you like to clarify that question? Because otherwise, dude. I’m from here - the United States of America, same place you’re from. Seriously, I don’t ask you where you’re from because I’d guess probably somewhere in the USA and I’d probably be correct. I’m not an alien, but thanks for asking.” But I usually just say I’m Chinese and move on with my life (even though technically that’s not what I am, and that's not what their question was asking.) Other people turn it into a game, which is kind of fun if you’re friendly with the person, but when you’re not, it’s just annoying. They actually ask me “Let me guess where your ancestors are from!” Like, “OKAY!” They’ll stare at me, observe me from different directions. It makes me feel so uncomfortable. Should I make eye contact with you as you inspect me or should I look at the ceiling and pretend this is normal? I usually stare at the ceiling. Then they’ll say, “you’re Korean/Cambodian/Japanese/Thai/Chinese/[insert Asian ethnicity].” 90% of the time I get Vietnamese or Thai. What - ‘cause I’m tan? Ugh. Your case of ignorance is getting worse. All in all, the guessing game may be one of the most annoying parts about being Asian. I think only two  people out of all the people I’ve ever met in my entire life have guessed correctly - Tommy* and Josh*. In case you’re wondering, I’m half Cantonese (Dad’s side) and half Chinese (mom’s side), although ethnically I’m Taiwanese.

* Names were not changed for the purpose of this story.

They should be proud they guessed right.  

That All Asians Look the Same

Fun fact: we don’t.

So, just like any other race in the world, people within the Asian race actually look different than each other. Some have tall noses, others have small noses. Some are fat, some are skinny. Some are tan, some are pale. (we’re not yellow). Some have big eyes, and others have small eyes, which I’d just like to comment on: next time you want to portray an Asian please don’t pull your eyes as if all Asians have slits. We’re not snakes. We all look different and I wouldn't dare say that two random Caucasian people look the same because you don’t, so spare me, unless of course they actually do look alike. Throughout middle school and high school, I think I had been called by the name of every Asian girl in my grade and by Asian I mean Chinese, Korean, Indian, etc. from Emily to Claire to one girls who is tall and Kashmiri and who really does not look like me. At. All. Like, really?! I really cannot understand how it’s that hard to tell the difference between Asians. Even Facebook, the know-it-all, Mother of all social networking sites cannot tell Asians apart. Facebook likes to suggest that I tag myself as my sister or the aforementioned Emily or Claire. Honestly, Mark - I’m a little offended and surprised. By all means, your wife is Asian. I've just come to accept this sad part of my life that perhaps the world is full of more ignorant people than I'd like to think.

We are related because we are all Asian and play violin.

Coming Off Racist

I promise you, I’m not. I grew up going to Chinese school and primarily listening and speaking Chinese at home. Just like it is between any two languages where some words in one are mildly or highly insulting in another, Chinese and English have these cases. And just like any other language, Chinese has filler words as well. In English these include, “like, uh, um, so, etc.” Well, there’s one particular Chinese filler word that is pretty offensive in the United States, granted when said, it’s within the context of a bunch of other Chinese words, so people should catch on. But it basically sounds like - nigga. I’m not kidding. It’s the two characters: 那 個. Pronunciation wise it sounds like, “nah guh.” Say that fast a couple times and sounds like one of the most offensive words in the English language. Awesome, right?

People Thinking I Have an Ethnic Name

So this one doesn't apply to those who actually do have an ethnic name, but with that being said, not all Asian people have some kind of the ethnically Asian name. This one time at a track invitational meet (back when I thought I could do “land” sports) I was running across the field during warm up where all the other schools were also. As I run past a group of guys from a nearby school I hear them say, “Hey Ching Chang Chong!” “No, they did not just say that,” I thought. But I assure you they did, because my friend gave me that look where you don’t know what to say but you feel really bad so you kind of just send a glance of sympathy. I was fuming to say the least, nearly about to strangle their ignorant little necks. My name is not Ching Chang Chong, nor is it any other clacking sound or noise you can make with your tongue and mouth. My name’s not Wang Plink or Song Hu. I actually have a very “white-girl” name so back off.

The Need to Aluminum Foil Everything

I not sure if this applies to all Asians or just my family, but my mom - who while hereafter go by Cath - believes that aluminum foil in the kitchen is not only a staple but a necessity. Every god damn appliance from our toaster to the wall of our stove to the trays in the oven are covered in aluminum foil. She says it’s because Asian food is more oily than American food so the foil will stop the oil from getting everywhere. But really - the radio too? If you ever get the high honour of coming to my humble abode, please ignore the god awful aluminum decor in our kitchen. I promise the rest of my house looks much less Asian and weird and distasteful.

Adding Tennis Balls To Things

In addition to aluminum foil, Asians like to attach tennis balls to the bottoms of the legs of chairs and tables. Thankfully, my house has only one table like that because it came like that. Seriously, why is that a thing?! The desks in my high school used to have them, which makes sense because it lessens the noise that desks make moving around on the floor, but I can’t understand the need for them  in a normal house setting. I don’t know, I just don’t know.

That I’m Automatically Smart

Just like I said before, there are all types of Asians in the Asian race. Therefore, not all Asians are your stereotypical “Asian nerd.” While many Asians in our beloved United States are quite intelligent, not all of us are. I’ve definitely had my bouts of stupidity that would not hold to the stereotype. When they happen, people are like, “Why do you not know that, you’re Asian.” Okay first off, thanks for pointing out I’m Asian like I didn’t know that before and two, why should I know that? You’d never say, “Why do you not know that, you’re White.” Like, what does my race have anything to do with knowing or not knowing something? Note the recurring theme: Asians are like all other people and should not be automatically treated as a strange breed of human. The only time I can think that an Asian was not the smart geeky character on television was in “Wendy Wu: Homecoming Warrior,” a Disney Channel Original Movie. If you don’t know this movie, don’t watch it, because other than Wendy Wu being the most popular girl in school, all other parts of the movie are mildly discriminatory.  That was pretty cool though, because for once an Asian was the cool girl who was in the running for homecoming queen. Oh and Harold from “Harold and Kumar.” He’s pretty chill and probably not a nerd.

Flying 7,913 Miles To See My Grandparents

(I did just Google the exact mileage from Philadelphia to Taiwan) It’s actually really sad and annoying that I can only see my grandparents every three years. I’m pretty jealous of my friends who get to hang out with their G-rents every few weeks and get giant shopping sprees and free dinners. I don’t get an all paid trip to Urban Outfitters! The cost to see mine is $1000+ just for the plane ride, let alone the costs of food and vacationing. It’s equally difficult to see how much my grandparents have aged in the three years I don’t see them every time I go back. It’s weird how someone looks the same when  you seem them every day/week/month, but give it three years and it’s actually noticeable how much someone has changed. With college and all, it’s even harder to see them and its now been four going on five years since I’ve seen my G-rents. Welp. Anyway, that’s all for the sentimental shit.

With my loverly grandmother circa 2010

Having a Connection to Every Asian

Within at least a 50 mile radius of my town, I probably have a connection with every Asian. We’re all interconnected in this web of Asians. Like, I know this Asian who went to Chinese School with this Asian who took SAT class with this Asian. At most there’s like two people separating me and another Asian. It’s weird. I don’t think the average American is so interconnected. I went to prom with this Asian kid sophomore year from another school and my friend my school was like, “Oh yeah! I know him from [I forget where].” (The story of that prom is also a great one, but a post on proms to come…) It can get annoying because some random Asian will know something about you because Asian parents talk i.e. brag and you’re like why. Why do you know that?! At least I know that wherever I am, there is an Asian to lean on.

Chinese School

12 years. Every Saturday morning, I woke up at 8 am to go to my high school from the age of 3 to attend Chinese School where I learned all things Chinese. It was absolute hell, especially when I got older and actually had to learn shit, instead of eating snacks and singing songs. Especially in high school when I had to wake up on a Saturday morning after having had five days of school, let me just go to more school for three and a half hours in the place from which I had just escaped yesterday at 2:26 pm. They tried to make it more fun by having a coupon system. Every time you did well on homework or a test or something you got a coupon, which was redeemable at the coupon station every several weeks. It was like a big day when it was coupon day. Every grade would get a time to go and when the time came we’d all run out of the room and go and redeem our coupons for random stuff like candy and slinkys that broke within the day and little erasers. It was really exciting when I was little but by the time I was in middle school/high school, it was a time of escape - literal freedom. Yeah, coupons lost their appeal quickly. To make matters worse, there were things like Chinese New Year when each class had to put on some kind of performance and you had to prepare for that or the Academic Contest when each class had some type of academic competition like reciting a Chinese soliloquy and literal judges sat in the room and judged each performance. When we were little, the competition was like who could sing this song the best and then it became who could find the most words in the Chinese Dictionary (which is hella confusing and awful.) Ugh. Chinese School. Kids kind of caught on to how awful it was and each new year brought a smaller and smaller class. Thankfully, I graduated early because I started early so I was out of there by freshman year in American high school. Fun fact: there was a valedictorian every year who got an $100 scholarship. I was valedictorian for a class of 5. *applause applause*

1. How good do I look
2. WOOHOO Chinese School graduation and diploma

Thus ends part one of My So Called (Asian) Life.

Peace out.

Five Things I've Learned From My (Lack of) Experience in Dating

1. Clean your ears

I learned this one the hard way. There was nothing more embarrassing than when the guy I was dating stuck his finger in my ear to tease me and remarked in the most disgusted way, “Damn you should clean your ears once in awhile.” Even the thought that he got some gnarly ear wax makes me cringe. I never felt more gross and unhygienic in my life - I just hope to dear God that this was not a contributing factor to the relationship ending (although I fear it may have been). In my defense, I had always swam year round up to that point and so cleaning my ears was not a priority since my ears were cleaned every day when submerged in water for two hours at practice. I also blame being Asian - it's probably because I'm Asian, right? But nonetheless, clean your ears or else you’ll end up embarrassed feeling really gross when your significant other decides to stick his/her finger unexpectedly in your ear. (I now clean my ears every day. Thanks, ex).

2. Kissing in the rain is not like in the movies

We all imagine ourselves as the main characters in iconic movie scenes. Like, Breakfast at Tiffany’s when Cat goes missing in the rain and Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck go looking for him and romantically kiss in the alley ending up happily ever after. Yeah, scenes like that are not as romantic in real life. I tried my share of recreating movie scenes or "cool" things every couple should try like kissing romantically in the rain. It sucks. You just become grossly wet and moppy as the rain downpours until you can't see even if you tried. On top of that you now have to balance the rain in your mouth with his/her mouth moving. No, try it once if you wish, but it’ll never be as awesome as it is in movies. I bet even Hilary Duff and Chad Michael Murray in A Cinderella Story had a rough time with that oh so glamourous kiss at the very end - mark my word. Plus, your shoes get all wet and there's nothing worse than walking back to your car/house with gross damp feet.

3. It’s best to avoid liking his/her siblings at all costs

At least try to….or just don’t meet them at all until you really have to. When you break up, you break up with not only the guy/girl but with his family. It becomes slightly awkward running into your ex’s family because they don’t actually have any connection to you whatsoever anymore. Like, do I still say hi to them when I see them? Do I still like their Instagram photos and/or their new profile picture on Facebook? I thought one of my ex’s brother was (is?) so cute that I stored a million photos of him on my phone. As someone who rarely deletes photos, it’s just now weird to think that I photos of a four year old boy to whom I don’t speak and never will on my phone. Creepier still that some of them are photos that he took of himself on his iPad (What four year old has an iPad, first of all?!) that I sent to myself. Think of it, I should probably delete those pictures now. Anyway, my point is, don’t like the siblings of anyone you’re dating until you’re legit about to marry them...or at least try not to. The breakup will be lots cleaner, I promise.

(But I admit: let’s be real. It’s still going to happen.)

4. Keep your favorite song a secret

If you’re like me and make lists of your favorite songs, don’t share your top five to someone you’re dating until it gets pretty legit. I shared my #3 favorite song to someone I was dating and now every time I hear that song, a little part of me cries because it’s ever so slightly tainted with the thought of him and that is just not ok. Do I want to be dancing in the moonlight with his face popping up every time? NO, not really.

5. Drunk snapchatting/texting is the worst

UGH. I have been the biggest offender of drunk snapchatting and texting my exes. It has turned into such a problem that I downloaded some dumb ap on my phone called, “Drunkmode” that is supposed to keep me from texting any person I don’t want to by “deleting” their number for 24 hours. It doesn’t work - fuck the $1.99 I spent on that. (But actually, that’s how desperate I was to stop my drunk communications). The mornings after I went out/drank were awful - to look through my texts from the night before and just see blue on blue on blue (sorry, non-iPhone users, but basically it means I did not get any replies) of just me saying the most ridiculous things still makes me want to cry. Worst occasion on New Years Eve when I drunk texted a kid I had a crush on, stating that I had feelings for him and that I hoped he had feelings for me. Well, first off I addressed him as George - his name is not George. Then I attempted to correct that mistake and said and as a direct quote, “/Jake.” No, his name is also NOT Jake. Needless to say, I got over that kid quite quickly after that. Yeah, so basically turn your phone off and put it away. If you’re anything like me, you’ll definitely regret anything you say whilst drunk.


Basically, the conclusion is: don't date. Because when you don't date, you have no problems.

the Awkward, the Innocent, the Amusement, the First

The Guys of High School Past 

The topic of today's fro-yo date with my best friends as the classy young adults we are. 

The Awkward

This is the first guy  to notice that I'm more than academics and a horrendous bob haircut, all beginning with some childish flirting in pre-calculus. The relationship progresses when I found out we both have sixth free and soon enough,  I'm his girl, defined romantically when we start to play "Words with Friends" exclusively and sitting with him and his other friends in the library. By April, I'm his main girl when he asks me to the Semi two days before the dance. The semi is a reminder of his awkwardness, supported by a tie that is far too short for him, him ditching me at the dance, and his mom driving us home from the diner that all the high schoolers flood toward after school dances - good times. We continue this great relationship into Junior year, resulting in us going to Junior Prom together. He ups his love game by asking me somewhat more eloquently to go with him, making me think that things will be smoother and less awkward this dance around. But when I try to make conversation in the car ride there by saying, "I love this song" to what is playing on the radio and receiving "doubt it" in response, I know the hopes of a successful night are slim to none. With no surprise, we part ways at the dance and to where he goes I will never know. Junior Prom then consists of me asking people, "Where is my date?!" and doing the cha-cha slide. Can I get a what-what for an awesome time? Since then, we have laughed about these memories and remained friends, continuing to form more awkward and hilarious memories. 

What I have learned... 

Embrace the awkwardness that comes with every first failed high school relationship. Also that  just because you find a cricket in your bathtub fairly disgusting and worthy of sharing, your boy of interest may not think so and may then choose to ignore that text. Moreover, most boys have no idea how to dress until college (if even then) and will choose to wear sweatpants to school no matter how ugly those elastic cords are. 

The Innocent

This is the first guy I label as my "boyfriend." We spend a lot of time watching t.v... like a lot of time. We go to Subway often for some hoagies and make a ton of chocolate brownies - cue romantic music here. Oh, we also hack each others' Facebooks and make silly comments like, "poop" on photos. Kissing is at a minimum and our biggest date is to the beach for the day - such grownups we are. The breakup is innocent and awkward as ever and after 1-2 months of innocent fun, we move on to bigger things...like Senior year. 

What I have learned...
Just because you think someone is cute, doesn't mean great conversation comes with the package. That's pretty much it. Also, the owners of Subway don't like it when you stay in their shop when they're trying to close up. Just because you've just been broken up doesn't mean they won't still yell at you - they're merciless. 

The Amusement

After being on such a great "high" from the last relationship, I am ready for the next big thing. Enter, the guy who ends up being the biggest regret in terms of relationships in my life. When I'm asked out, I reply, "Sure, thanks!" What was I thanking him for... liking me? Right, smooth. Bring out those glasses and cheers to my clearly great start to a great relationship. Weeks, perhaps four, pass and I'm ready to get out of it. There's nothing wrong with the boy, but there just is nothing there. Well, at least it was fun while it lasted - the thrill of the hunt!

What I have learned...

No stage-five clingers allowed. When you break up with a guy after only several weeks, he'll hate you for the rest of the year until New Years Eve after a semester in college when he cheers you on while you puke your guts. Then, all is forgiven and put to the past. 

The First

This is the guy who becomes my first love, some may say. He sits two tables away from me in Calculus the majority of the year with his head buried in his work, quietly muttering "shut up" whenever I attempt to have a conversation with the teacher. Until April, he's pretty irrelevant and I only see him as the awkward gangly Junior who tries just a little too hard in life, including gym class. But a college trip to UNC, lengthy text conversations, and hundreds of snapchats later, feelings get real, albeit I'm still caught up with prom drama and another guy. His first text hinting at how he feels consists of some John Mayer reference, as true to his character as can possible be, and makes me reevaluate our friendship... and the ball gets rolling. For the sake my sanity and my privacy, I'll keep details to the bare minimum. The next two months are intense and as cliche as any high school relationship can be with kisses plenty. After a great time, we separate when he leaves for summer courses at a university all the way across the country. Summer distances us and I then leave for college, putting our relationship officially in the past. 

What I have learned...

The next guy I date has to be capable of helping me with my homework. No matter how much effort is taken to distance yourself from a guy - be it physically and emotionally- feelings will remain as long as they wish with no rhyme or reason, despite your desire to suppress them. Love is never logical or timely, and if one of these two - timing and passion- are lacking, the relationship is doomed. I lacked timing, and perhaps he lacked passion, but regardless fate did not believe in us. The cliche holds true that it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Life is hard. And last but not least, good things come when you least expect it.