All The Things You Don’t Want To Know About Me But I’ll Tell You Anyway

Well you might know a little bit about myself and the Chef I brought up to her the idea of sharing a little more information about us, so that you our faithful reader might get to know us better. Not that her or I really hide all that much
but I thought it might be interesting to give you a little more info on our backgrounds and maybe you can see how we formed our views on things that you read about. If nothing else it gives me an excuse to try and go through old pictures and I know everyone loves looking at pictures.

I was born on July 31, 1978 to an Italian father and a Chinese mother. Before I go on I find it crazy every time I think about it that I have lived through five decades even though I’m still just 34 years old (70’s, 80’s, 90’s, 00’s, and now 10’s). I can never wrap my head around that. Anyway, I always thought that I was very lucky to grow up in as an interracial child. I always felt sorry for people who didn’t get to experience two cultures. Not that there is a right or wrong way to grow up. It’s funny because when my mother and father got married both my sets of grandparents did not approve of them getting married. And the major reason for both is they were marrying outside their ethnic background. It’s funny that I always pictured my father’s grandparents as these kind elderly people who always fed me pasta every Sunday. Instead I would find out that after my father married my mother that my Dad got kicked out of my grandparents house and had to move to Jersey City without my mom cause my grandparents did not approve he was marrying a Chinese woman. Or that my Mom’s parents didn’t approve either and would not let her move in with my Dad. It’s beyond crazy to me that just 40 years ago people still thought that way. Let alone the matriarch’s of both my families.

I just love this picture of my Mom. She is quite the looker no? Just the joy on her face/ Oh and that's me.

I often think of my parents to an extent as pioneers. They loved each other and race, and culture could not stop them from being together. And if they did not love each other my brother and I would not be here. But because of that I never felt worried that if I ever brought home a Norwegian-Japanese born girlfriend who is from India that my parents would even care. As long as I was happy that would be the most important thing. And just so you know I was not making it up my girlfriend is a Trinidadian-Jamaican so I practice what I preach.

This is just so you know I didn't make her up. She actually exists!

I got to enjoy two distinctly different, diverse cultures. In the end both are based around family ties. Both sides of my family are 30+ people strong so I have a LARGE family. I have very strong family values. Family gatherings are so important where all we do is sit around and eat while catching up with my family about life. I love getting to a gathering early and leaving late in the evening while I sit with my cousins playing cards, drinking beer.

My brother and I. My brother was a couple of months and I was 3. Notice I still have the same haircut even then.

Race was always a funny thing to me. I never thought about it in school. You go in and see all these different people and I never thought anything of it. I do remember this one particular group of kids in elementary school who would always pick on me. They were the group that was considered the ‘cool’ kids in school. They used to use ethnic slurs on me and I was always hurt by that because I was really proud of my culture. Only later when I got into junior high school did I pity them because it turns out they used the ethnic slur for another group of Asian people and not for Chinese people. At that point I had to laugh at their ignorance because they were so caught up in it that they could not even slur me correctly.

I always thought I had a distinct advantage over a person growing up in a one culture household. I got to experience a ton of diversity within just me two nuclear families so that I never felt uncomfortable in any situation. If anything I wound up liking it even more being the only white person at a Guyanese club, or being a minority at my own job as I am right now. I learned to be tolerant and excepting of all cultures and beliefs. I genuinely dislike anytime I hear a person not accept another person’s beliefs and values. Sure you might not accept their beliefs, but you have to respect them and their right to think the way they do.

Except for people who are racist, and don’t support gay marriage. If you’re racist you need to be sent back to your home country or move south. And if you dislike a person because they are gay you are living in a world that doesn’t exist because gay people are everywhere. I always reason it this way; if gay people want to get married and be as miserable as straight people who get married and then get divorced more power to you. Oh and anyone with conservative values. Its 2013 people. If you still think we need the second amendment because the British are going to take back the colonies or we should have voted for Mitt Romney get an internet connection and read for a little while.

I’ve never been what would be considered the popular kid. At any point in my life I have never had more than a half-dozen close friends. I never was a big fan of having casual friends. Like going out and inviting 20 people from my phones contact list. I’d rather just have a few really close friends gather and do simple things like go out to dinner, or go bowling.

Yes my hair is orange.

I’m very lucky to have the friends I do obviously with my girlfriend being at the top of the list. Dating-wise I had never been with anyone as long as I have been with my current. Needless to say it’s a great feeling to have a person you can have the same conversation with over and over and not get bored. And I fight with her often but I never say I don’t want to come back for more. The leap of faith I made when I asked her out was the best choice I’ve made in a long time.

Obviously my best friend is the Chef. I could get into the road her and I have traveled but I think I am going to save that story for the sequel to this blog. Needless to say she is one of the best people I have ever met in my life. If you have her in your corner you really don’t need anyone else having your back.

Just a little about me as far as how I think about things. I used to be a pretty shy, reserved person. Another thing I owe Chef is getting me out of my shell but again another time, another blog. I have been told by people that I am one of the most sarcastic people they have ever met in their lives. I use sarcasm as a defense mechanism in a sense. So many people go about life being so incredibly serious about everything. I like using sarcasm to make people smile and laugh. I always think that when the laughter stops there is a chance people’s feelings will get hurt cause it gives people a chance to get serious about stuff. So if I crack a line about someone’s dog in a non-threatening manner it might get them to pause for a second and forget about their troubles.

I feel like sometimes this leads me to say things that come off as insensitive or be perceived as a being a jerk. Like I am never serious about anything could not be farther from the truth. I just choose not to walk around with the weight of the world crushing me all the time. Sure there are times you have to get serious but if I can help it I’d rather be laughing and happy instead of serious, and sullen.

Probably my greatest skill is my ability to be a good listener. I think this came from my parents being teachers so I was used to having things explained to me in a calm, straightforward manner. But also it comes from my demeanor and how I deal with things. I never get too excited or to depressed by events going on around me. Maybe that leads me to miss out on certain life moments because I’m not willing to fully let myself go and just go wild but it is who I am. My favorite line is I always tell people to look at it from someone else’s perspective. Don’t just stay in your shoes. Try to look at things from someone else’s point of view. Cause you might think you are right and you have been wronged but how do you know what is going on in someone else’s head? The reality is you can never experience something from another person’s perspective but, I feel you can at least try to think about it.

I feel that my objectiveness is a gift that people can sense when they talk to me. I won’t just tell you what you want to hear even if you want to hear it. I am going to tell you what I feel is an honest opinion no matter how close I am to you or the situation. In the end I am not doing it to get over on you and have you think of me as being better then someone else. I am doing it because I genuinely feel I need to be fair and tell you what I honestly think even if you might not want to hear it. I feel like people trust my objectiveness and in the end they are getting an honest and unbiased opinion despite if I might be biased anyway.

I have many flaws that I think I have (I’m kind of spineless in certain public situations, I internalize too much instead of talking about what bothers me) but the worst is my preaching. I feel like I start talking to people and I get up on a pulpit and I am talking to them like I am this highly educated, PHD person knowledgeable in all things. And while I do know a lot of things (remember my parents were teachers) I feel like when I get going about a subject matter maybe the person will think I am talking down to them. Or that I explain things as if you have no experience in the subject and that leads to people thinking I’m talking down to them. I don’t mean to sound that way but I think it comes across so if that is the case and I do that please let me know.

Anyway just give you a couple of more fun facts. Obviously one of my biggest hobbies in my life is seeing live music or as you might know it as concerts. It’s a very expensive hobby but one I enjoy immensely. And it’s something Chef and I bound over which was just so awesome to have someone who is down for virtually any show I suggested. Totally unrelated we went to see Swedish House Mafia two weeks ago and it is the early front runner for concert of the year. Just three hours of rave music with 18,000 people is a sight that I will always cherish. I’m a big fan of video games. Have been since I was eight years old and my Dad would stay up late after I went to bed drawing the maps to Metroid in a book so we could figure out a way through the whole game. Favorite game of the moment is Mass Effect 3. I’ve been playing that for close to a year now and I still love it. Online multiplayer is the stuff. I used to run but that stopped once I started standing on me feet 40 hours a week at work. I need to get back into that though as my belly is putting on baby weight and that is never a good thing.

American House Mafia!

A little weirdo fact is I like to sit at the table on Sunday and read my New York Times from front to back but I don’t like anyone touching my paper before I’ve read it. It’s the one thing I have OCD about. Sometimes I look at my Dad reading the paper and in my mind I’m thinking he just messed with my paper. Does he not know the routine?

Oh and I am a huge follower of routines. I do everything the same. At the same time, in the same place, at the same pace. I wake up at the same time for work every day and no matter what 25 minutes later I am out the door. I always get to the movies an hour ahead of time because I never want to sit anywhere but the last few rows of the theater. If I have to I will get to that movie an hour or two before it starts to get the seat I want. If you say to meet you at a certain time I am going to be there 20 minutes before that time. Both my girlfriend and Chef can attest I am one of the most prompt people you will ever meet. My late is 15 minutes early. It’s just who I am.

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I feel that at 34, there’s still a whole lot of life to live before I put my adventures together; especially on a short blog post. What do I even write?

I was born. I lived. Lots of shit happened to me. I haven’t managed to get myself killed yet; despite numerous close calls…

Seriously?

I was born in the Philippines and moved to NY when I was 2. I’ve grown up here ever since in a very strict, very strange, very ethnic household. I didn’t have “friends” before I started school. I had cousins who were my “friends”. My grandmother was half German-American. My father’s side of the family is a lot lighter skinned, and my aunts who reproduced with other Caucasian men ultimately had babies who looked, for all intents and purposes; white. Those cousins were treated better in my family because they were “cuter”. They photographed “better” as one of my douchebag uncles once said.  So, you can say, from a very young age I knew that life wasn’t going to be fair, looks mattered, and you had to make the best of whatever hand you were dealt.

Fast forward several years, and I come home from work on my 18^th birthday to find all the contents of my room spilled out onto the driveway; my 18^th Birthday Get  the Fuck Outta My House gift.  Maybe my parents thought I would bum a few nights on the couches of some friends and I would ultimately come home begging for another shot to live in misery. Obviously, they didn’t know me very well.

Since then, it’s been me against the world. I married at 21 to the idiot I was dating since I was 17. He was 9 years older, and I had disillusions of making my own “functional” family since the one I was born into sucked so much. He was an idiot; through and through. But, he had street smarts, something I was gravely lacking coming from my sheltered childhood. He was dumb, selfish, a moocher, but worst of all- abusive.  I stayed as long as I could stomach it, but I knew this is not what the Universe had intended for someone like me. I left him when I was 24, and was finally granted a divorce a few years after that.

I went back to school; culinary school. The rest of that route is history. Before that, I was a cashier at CVS- working my way up to manager. (The youngest one in NY, might I add!) I went on to work for a financial company in the Fashion District, doing data entry. Yes, a very low, entry-level position, but I entered the hell out of that data and I kicked ass. I was hired by one of the clients to run their showroom. For two years, I had the time of my life! Can you imagine a 23 year old traveling between the East and West coast every two weeks to go to Couture shows, selling the hell out of a high-end couture line, and coming home with 95 grand in commissions on her first year? I kicked ass, yet again. But, anyone who looked at me knew I was not Fashion material. I was more comfortable in tee-shirts and Vans than I was in Prada or Juicy. After 9/11, life closed a bunch of those high-end doors in my face, and I was left with some tough choices to make. I took the road less traveled. I gave up the pursuit of another 100k sales job to go back to school and to be a teller at a credit union.  I worked hard at school.  I didn’t have 35k to pay for the culinary program, so I was accepted as a stagier (chef’s assistant). I would prep the food, clean the classrooms, and assist the chefs in classes for two years before I earned enough hours to go to school for free. It was the most rewarding job I’ve ever had in my life.  While all that was happening, I managed to land a full-time job for a government contractor; a job I still have now. I moved up the ranks from an admin assistant to a full-on Task Leader. Not a bad way to end up, even if it isn’t my dream.

I’ve had Queenie Cakes for almost 10 years now. What used to be a once in a while custom cake order or small catering gig, has turned into another nearly-full-time job. I sleep very little. Each day of my week is meticulously planned so I have enough time to get to the full-time day job, and home in time to bake and decorate for the orders I get. It’s not easy. I don’t always succeed, but I’m doing it.

Despite all the obstacles I’ve tripped over, I’m still doing it. And I’m fiercely proud of that.

Since my marriage ended, I’ve hopped from one disastrous relationship to another. I could list a million reasons why these men were not good enough for me, and they could all come back with an equally long list of why I wasn’t good enough for them. Isn’t that the way things go after the love is dead?  I’ve had exactly 4 “major” relationships that have shaped my life. Out of those 4, I am still on friendly terms with 2 of them. A 50% success rate in terms of exes isn’t so bad, the way I look at it.

My Imagination; Don’t Get It Started

I’m a very anxious person on the inside, no matter what I look like on the outside. I’m constantly worrying and fretting over one thing or another and a battle is consistently going on in my inner-mind between logic and emotion. I can be robotically cold and logical if I want to be. I’ve been called many unpleasant names because of my ability to strip a situation down to practicalities. However, if I let my emotions loose, it’s as though someone unleashed the gates of Hell. When I am fired up in a rage or in a gut-wrenching hurtful situation, no amount of common sense or logic will talk me off the ledge. And I don’t just fall off the cliff of sanity; I take running start and leap off like a base jumper.  It’s not pretty.

Most of the madness ensues because in absence of truth and facts, my mind will spin the worst case scenario and my imagination will put all kinds of scary, horrible images in my head of what “could be”, rather than “what is”. If you know someone who flies off the handle before anything has even happened, it’s probably because they are watching a tragedy taking place inside their mind’s eye due to an over-active imagination.

The truth will set you free and calm me the fuck down. The thing I tell most people who try to get close to me is that they are better off angering me for a minute with the truth rather than trying to impress or placate me with a lie. A liar has no place whatsoever in my life. There are things I can stomach to a certain point, but a liar isn’t one of them. Don’t lie. I will find out. I have a certain knack for weeding out fabricators because I have a very distrustful nature to begin with. If you lose my trust, chances are you will never get it back. And I make no apologies for being that way. It’s just who I am.

Hold the Fucking MAYO

Do not put mayonnaise in my goddamn sandwich. For Pete’s

sake, not everyone in this world loves mayo. In fact, I am the complete opposite of someone who loves mayo. I will gag. I may puke. Please do not put mayo anywhere near my food. Like ever.

Coke; not Pepsi. It will always be Coke. Never Diet. Never Coke Zero. I may ask for a Cherry Coke every now and then or even that rare Vanilla Coke when I can find it. But, if you ever put Pepsi in front of me, we may not be friends anymore.

I will drop my panties faster after a duck dinner than I will for lobster. Okay, that may be an exaggeration. It will take more than dinner to get me to drop trous after a date, but you know what I mean. I know people go nuts for expensive things like filet mignon or lobster, and they’re ok. But, duck will get you further. Not just ANY duck. I want a medium-rare pan-seared duck breast with the fat rendered to almost nothing. I want the skin to crunch when I cut through it. I want the port wine reduction to be sweet and tangy, and thick like silk. I could cry after such a meal.

I know I have a fancy certificate on my wall from a culinary school and I make beautiful cakes and desserts. However, I love waffles and ice cream. Waffles; frozen Eggo waffles. Chocolate chip, blueberry, cinnamon…you name it- I’ve had it. They go on sale at Target all the time, and I walk out with like $20 worth of them. I can eat a box a day, if I really wanted to. They comfort me. They make me feel warm and fulfilled and happy. Really- Let go my Eggo! Ice cream does that for me, too. Gelato. Ben and Jerry’s. Haagan Daz. It’s fine. As long as I can curl up in my fuzzy blue polka dot pj bottoms in front of my television with a pint, a spoon, and a blanket- I am one happy bitch.

Stop and Smell the Flowers

I know roses are all the rage for lovers, and who isn’t impressed when a huge bouquet of the thorny variety shows up at the office? But, my particular flower of choice is Hyacinths. They are more of a potted plant, rather than a flower that can be arranged and delivered. They’re only available in the Spring and they bloom and they die so quickly. The window of enjoying them is so small, but they are beautiful and so fragrant. I can’t even describe how happy my heart is when I walk by a display during the Easter season.  After everything that’s happened to me with the people I’ve let into my life, this is the ONE thing that will always make me happy. The world could be coming down around me, but one whiff of this flower will set everything right in my mind and in my heart.

So You Wanna Be My Boyfriend…

Smarts. You’ve read about my not-so-swift ex-husband.  You can understand why I would want someone a lot higher up on the food chain when it comes to brains. Let me explain something; don’t let my vulgarity or my flippant style of writing fool you. I am one smart cookie. There is very little in this world I can’t figure out, given the time and resources to do it. I want a partner who uses his common sense as regularly as people use their lungs to breath. I want someone who can solve a problem using their head before resorting to their fists. Intelligence will always be a huge factor with me when it comes to potential partners going forward. If you don’t know the difference between “there, their, and they’re” or “its and it’s” or “lose or loose”….Oh Lord, the list can go on and on. Seriously, I could have a heart attack every time I had to correct someone who refuses to learn proper grammar. Christ, we’re speaking ENGLISH. We learned in ENGLISH. Why is it so hard to speak and write it correctly?

I am a Scorpio. Every stereotype you have ever read or heard about Scorpios applies to me. Passion. Loyalty. And extremes. Anyone who wants to consider me as a potential girlfriend has to be forewarned of that little fun fact. I am passionate to the extremes. I will smother you with love like Elmyra from Tiny Toons, and I can kill you with a demonic scowl if you get on my wrong side.  I can be so happy that my face hurts from smiling so hard. (I call this Squishy Happy.) Or I can sink into a pretty heinous depression. I will never forget an injury. Maybe I can forgive you, but I’ll never forget and chances are that I’ll dust it off and bring it out from that shelf in my closet in the midst of a heated argument. I’m sorry. I just don’t ever forget anything. These are the range of my crazy, super-sized emotions that are all pieces of the same passion that you will love about me. When is too much just too much? When I don’t care anymore and all you get out of me is apathy. No more passion means no more love.  And then the goodbyes kick in. Probably a forever goodbye. (Because I only have a 50% success rate of staying friends with exes, as I’ve already told you.)

This is already too long, so let me sum it up with something fun: SEX

I like sex. I’m pretty damn good at it. I want someone who likes it as much as me, and is just as good at it, too.  I have walked away from great personalities because the chemistry just wasn’t present in the bedroom. I know that’s a terrible, superficial way to kick someone to the curb, but I do believe that if you aren’t being sexually fulfilled by your partner, your eyes will wander. I’m all about the preemptive strike.  If you are happy in the bedroom with the one you love, you will not have a need to find satisfaction elsewhere. Hence; no cheating.

That’s all I’ve got. What do you expect? I’m only 34!