If there's one specific thing I can remember from my early elementary school days and pre-school days, it was being picked on and teased a lot.
There's this boy I've known since pre-school and I would see him on a daily basis for 13 years until we went off to college. I remember I was standing behind Katie at vacation bible school. The boy wedges himself between me and Katie and says, "Move cantaloupe head! I wanna stand next to Katie!" To this day, I like to wear my hair in my face to try and conceal the roundness of my face.
I am also scarred by boys on the playground putting their fingers on the corners of their eyes and pulling them back and calling me Japanese or Chinese. This is another reason why I like to wear my hair in my eyes.
I hate being Asian. I don't feel Asian. I don't even consider myself Asian. Only the most shallow aspects of me are Asian.
It took me 13 years to finally become somewhat comfortable with the fact that I am unique in the way I look here. This was quickly ruined by a boy in my senior year of high school who told me to my face, "I'd rather date a mediocre looking white girl than a really attractive Asian girl." Thanks a lot asshole for making me feel ugly every time I look in the mirror and realize that there is one thing that I truly cannot change.
I can make people forget that I'm Asian. I can make people forget that I'm short. I can even make people forget that I'm a girl. But the fact of the matter is, I am Asian, I am short, and I am a girl, and no matter how much I hate all of it, I can't change it. So I try to embrace it. I poke fun at myself. I laugh at myself. I hope people will laugh with me, because then maybe it's not so bad.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
School Before School
I met 2 of the very precious people to me in this time frame. It's mind blowing to me that I've stayed close friends with both of them for the past 15 years despite Catholic school versus public school and moving to buttfuck nowhere and back.
I think I was the happiest in my childhood in this time, and I owe it to them. We went to Bethel Lutheran Pre-School. We were the morning class with Mrs. Leuders as our teacher.
Maureen Elizabeth Miller (now Nickita Riley Kross) is the one person I can act like a complete and total nerd around. She is truly the only person to see that side of me. Since the beginning of our friendship, I've always been the collected one, she's always been the goofy one. She was the blonde haired, blue-eyed, innocent one; I was the black haired, black-eyed, dark one. This has changed, she no longer is the Catholic school girl who never said, "Oh my God!" but she still has an innocence that I associate with her, mostly I believe because I've always been the "older sister."
Katherine Mary Cairnes is the constant in my life. I can always count on her to be Katie Cairnes, the person I've laughed with the most, the musical one, the one who loves bacon, the one I can say the weirdest things to and she gets it. I can always count on Katie Cairnes to be tall. I can always count on Katie Cairnes to be online so I can squeal about some guy or bitch about some girl. I think we had a fight once in middle school and quickly realized how stupid it was. Other than that, it's been all laughs. I'd be a fat-ass if it weren't for all the laughing we've done together. The list of inside jokes is endless. We even had the same first crush in pre-school, who we ended up going to high school with in the same program.
The three of us would fill up Maureen's pool with water balloons and give them names. Katie would take us on "rollercoaster rides" with the pool mat. We'd play "The Mean Mother" in the hot tub, where Maureen was always the mean mother, and Katie and I were the slave daughters. We'd make up moves on the trampoline and games like "The Log," "The Rain Dance," and "Demon Baby." We had "The Battle Cry."
Katie's mother was the best at bending the movie theater rules. She'd bring gigantic bags of home popped popcorn, Eckerd's bought candy, and juice boxes for us. Then she'd tell us to put our sweaters over the seat in front of us so people wouldn't sit there. This is probably the best trick I've learned in my life.
Maureen's mother, Donna, is really like another mother to me. The shit she puts up with is incredible! And yet she still manages to make cupcakes and homemade blueberry waffles for us with a smile. The "Rolly Ball" cookies are still my favorite. Her collection of Star Trek media never ceases to amaze me. I remember her making a full on Thanksgiving feast in the middle of June one summer.
You know that one song, the "Make new friends but keep the old" one? Yeah, they're my gold.
I really don't remember much else from pre-school other than falling off a wagon and some brat running over my elbow with a tricycle while I was down. Oh, and this boy who liked to eat grass (who also ended up in the same program as me in high school). I hated Santa Claus. I hated the Easter Bunny. I hated the characters in Disney World. I tried gymnastics, but this nasty girl said I sucked at doing cart-wheels, so I got pissed off and quit.
I think I was the happiest in my childhood in this time, and I owe it to them. We went to Bethel Lutheran Pre-School. We were the morning class with Mrs. Leuders as our teacher.
Maureen Elizabeth Miller (now Nickita Riley Kross) is the one person I can act like a complete and total nerd around. She is truly the only person to see that side of me. Since the beginning of our friendship, I've always been the collected one, she's always been the goofy one. She was the blonde haired, blue-eyed, innocent one; I was the black haired, black-eyed, dark one. This has changed, she no longer is the Catholic school girl who never said, "Oh my God!" but she still has an innocence that I associate with her, mostly I believe because I've always been the "older sister."
Katherine Mary Cairnes is the constant in my life. I can always count on her to be Katie Cairnes, the person I've laughed with the most, the musical one, the one who loves bacon, the one I can say the weirdest things to and she gets it. I can always count on Katie Cairnes to be tall. I can always count on Katie Cairnes to be online so I can squeal about some guy or bitch about some girl. I think we had a fight once in middle school and quickly realized how stupid it was. Other than that, it's been all laughs. I'd be a fat-ass if it weren't for all the laughing we've done together. The list of inside jokes is endless. We even had the same first crush in pre-school, who we ended up going to high school with in the same program.
The three of us would fill up Maureen's pool with water balloons and give them names. Katie would take us on "rollercoaster rides" with the pool mat. We'd play "The Mean Mother" in the hot tub, where Maureen was always the mean mother, and Katie and I were the slave daughters. We'd make up moves on the trampoline and games like "The Log," "The Rain Dance," and "Demon Baby." We had "The Battle Cry."
Katie's mother was the best at bending the movie theater rules. She'd bring gigantic bags of home popped popcorn, Eckerd's bought candy, and juice boxes for us. Then she'd tell us to put our sweaters over the seat in front of us so people wouldn't sit there. This is probably the best trick I've learned in my life.
Maureen's mother, Donna, is really like another mother to me. The shit she puts up with is incredible! And yet she still manages to make cupcakes and homemade blueberry waffles for us with a smile. The "Rolly Ball" cookies are still my favorite. Her collection of Star Trek media never ceases to amaze me. I remember her making a full on Thanksgiving feast in the middle of June one summer.
You know that one song, the "Make new friends but keep the old" one? Yeah, they're my gold.
I really don't remember much else from pre-school other than falling off a wagon and some brat running over my elbow with a tricycle while I was down. Oh, and this boy who liked to eat grass (who also ended up in the same program as me in high school). I hated Santa Claus. I hated the Easter Bunny. I hated the characters in Disney World. I tried gymnastics, but this nasty girl said I sucked at doing cart-wheels, so I got pissed off and quit.
The Earliest of Times
I can only remember living in Waldorf, Maryland (apparently that's where the band Good Charlotte formed), but I can't remember ever living in California.
My parents tell me I was a quiet baby and toddler, I never threw fits in public, I liked to sing, and I didn't cry much.
My first word was "shit."
I remember I liked to play dress-up.
I hated role-playing especially family role-playing; Being a baby and a mother were the most unappealing things in the world.
I had a kitchen set, while the other kids played house, I took out all the colorful plastic silverware and dishes and organized them in different patterns.
My father jokingly referred to me as "The Freak Child" because I never built things with my blocks or Legos. He said I made 3-dimensional matrices with them by shape and color instead.
I remember I learned how to count to 100 by hearing it once and I annoyed my mother and father all the way down to Florida one car trip by repeating it over and over again.
I had a babysitter, a boy who lived in our neighborhood I'm guessing. I think I thought he was an asshole. He would throw his cat down the stairs and put me in time-out when he didn't want to play with me.
We had a cat, Boo-Boo, and a black lab, Chase. Boo-Boo hated me until I got much older. Chase loved the water, like any lab should, and I would wave the garden hose around and laugh as he jumped and chased after the water.
I remember my first lie. I had a pair of scissors and cut a sliver in the couch when my grandma wasn't looking. My parents came home and noticed it. I told them it was Chase. They bought it until who knows how they found out. I remember my father confronting me about it and told me what I did was very bad and not to do it again. I felt guilty about it. I washed my hands with soap and absent-mindedly sucked my thumb, which tasted like the soap. I unintentionally punished myself the old fashion way.
For some reason, I remember a lot from daycare. The lady who watched over us was a big black lady named Bertha, Big Bertha we called her. I remember Big Bertha scolding me one day for for playing with my food, when really I was flattening out my rice with my fork so I could eat it more easily (something I do to this day). I remember some little bitch tattling on me for singing a Barney song on the swing-set. I remember not really enjoying it, but I wasn't the kid to cry every time their mother dropped them off (I thought those kids were babies, despite being 2 or 3 years old myself).
I've always been independent. I never minded being alone. My parents said I was the hardest kid to punish because if I was sent to my room, I'd have too much fun. Even if I was put in the corner, I giggled as I played with the bugs that I found.
I learned how to swim when we took a family trip down to Palm City, Florida to visit my Nana and Papa when I was 2. They had a pool and I would cling to the edge until I dared to push myself off the edge and without panic, just dog paddled my way back to the steps. I didn't realize I actually swam until my dad praised me.
My parents say I only think I remember this one because I've heard it so many times, but I really do remember them locking me and the keys in the car on accident one trip. I remember them waving to me in my car-seat through the window. I remember it was at a gas station. I remember seeing the police car and getting excited.
There are so many things I remember, my first time eating "my favorite chicken" made by my uncle, getting angry at my dad for stealing food off my high chair, being spoiled to death by my aunts and grandma, Boo-Boo getting stuck in the street gutter and scratching my finger, and the gigantic Christmas tree at Baby Chuck's house. Most of these things are negligible.
My parents tell me I was a quiet baby and toddler, I never threw fits in public, I liked to sing, and I didn't cry much.
My first word was "shit."
I remember I liked to play dress-up.
I hated role-playing especially family role-playing; Being a baby and a mother were the most unappealing things in the world.
I had a kitchen set, while the other kids played house, I took out all the colorful plastic silverware and dishes and organized them in different patterns.
My father jokingly referred to me as "The Freak Child" because I never built things with my blocks or Legos. He said I made 3-dimensional matrices with them by shape and color instead.
I remember I learned how to count to 100 by hearing it once and I annoyed my mother and father all the way down to Florida one car trip by repeating it over and over again.
I had a babysitter, a boy who lived in our neighborhood I'm guessing. I think I thought he was an asshole. He would throw his cat down the stairs and put me in time-out when he didn't want to play with me.
We had a cat, Boo-Boo, and a black lab, Chase. Boo-Boo hated me until I got much older. Chase loved the water, like any lab should, and I would wave the garden hose around and laugh as he jumped and chased after the water.
I remember my first lie. I had a pair of scissors and cut a sliver in the couch when my grandma wasn't looking. My parents came home and noticed it. I told them it was Chase. They bought it until who knows how they found out. I remember my father confronting me about it and told me what I did was very bad and not to do it again. I felt guilty about it. I washed my hands with soap and absent-mindedly sucked my thumb, which tasted like the soap. I unintentionally punished myself the old fashion way.
For some reason, I remember a lot from daycare. The lady who watched over us was a big black lady named Bertha, Big Bertha we called her. I remember Big Bertha scolding me one day for for playing with my food, when really I was flattening out my rice with my fork so I could eat it more easily (something I do to this day). I remember some little bitch tattling on me for singing a Barney song on the swing-set. I remember not really enjoying it, but I wasn't the kid to cry every time their mother dropped them off (I thought those kids were babies, despite being 2 or 3 years old myself).
I've always been independent. I never minded being alone. My parents said I was the hardest kid to punish because if I was sent to my room, I'd have too much fun. Even if I was put in the corner, I giggled as I played with the bugs that I found.
I learned how to swim when we took a family trip down to Palm City, Florida to visit my Nana and Papa when I was 2. They had a pool and I would cling to the edge until I dared to push myself off the edge and without panic, just dog paddled my way back to the steps. I didn't realize I actually swam until my dad praised me.
My parents say I only think I remember this one because I've heard it so many times, but I really do remember them locking me and the keys in the car on accident one trip. I remember them waving to me in my car-seat through the window. I remember it was at a gas station. I remember seeing the police car and getting excited.
There are so many things I remember, my first time eating "my favorite chicken" made by my uncle, getting angry at my dad for stealing food off my high chair, being spoiled to death by my aunts and grandma, Boo-Boo getting stuck in the street gutter and scratching my finger, and the gigantic Christmas tree at Baby Chuck's house. Most of these things are negligible.
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