So I took the "Which Asian Girl Stereotype Are You" Quiz and got this:
You are the popular Asian girl. You enjoy the fine
things in life and have plenty of girlfriends.
You have the potential to be a snotty biatch
but could also just be a normal nice chick.
And hey.. just a head's up.. but I think that
girl over there wants to kick your ass!
But I went back and changed my answer for the "What did you normally do in class" question and it became this:
You are the sort of whitewashed Asian girl. You're
pretty neutral about things and appreciative of
your heritage, but no way in hell will you ever
join a club for it. And yes the guys who work
at Abercrombie ARE pretty hot!
What Kind of Asian Girl Stereotype Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
(For the record, I don't try and stare down other Asian chics. And I've never gone to an Asian party and looked for fights. And I was in the Asian Club and the Filipino Club. And I wouldn't know what Abercrombie salespeople look like, because their clothes are godawful so I don't shop there. I'll never understand why anyone would pay lots of money to look poor. But I digress.)
I didn't know what to answer for that question. I was rarely *in* class. Certainly not enough to develop some sort of normal routine. Unless you count sleeping off a hangover. But they don't have that option. And they assume that if you're sitting around talking shit about how bitchy Asian chics can be you're sitting around doing it with white people. Then again, in our culture pretty much anyone who actually speaks English properly gets classified as "white-washed" by the people who don't speak it properly. Kind of like how black people get accused of "trying to sound white" if they speak like an educated person. Gratuitous Chris Rock reference: "He's an educated man you dirty motherfucker, what the hell were you expecting to come out of his mouth? Imma drop me some bombs. I be pre-suh-dent!"
Actually, my roommates were the ones who'd sit in class and ask me why Asian chics were so bitchy, but they were Mexican. Excuse me, "Chicana." They were heavily into the whole "Brown Pride" scene so out of respect (because I still love those two chicas), I have to use the proper terminology when referring to them. One of them, Veronica, named her daughter Marisa and told me she hoped her daughter would be like me. If that isn't the biggest compliment anyone can ever give you I don't know what is. So don't get me started on those pig fuckers who think I'd name my daughters after some random fucking celebrities. I haven't even given any of my family members that honor (yet), you think I'd give it to some stranger? Here's a picture of my foot, please print it up and press it against your ass. Nahh I'm not going to put a picture of my foot here. Who knows what perverts might be reading this shit. No need to give them ammunition.
So back to my roomies in college... those beeyatches rocked. They really did. I remember after we drove out our other two roommates (the ones I referred to as The Ogress and "The other one") no one wanted to move in with us. The preceptor told us a few people had asked about the vacancy since there was a wait list for apartments, but when they found out it was us in there they decided against moving in. So Carmen, Veronica and I had a 5-person apartment to ourselves for awhile. Well until the boyfriends moved in. How did we drive them out... hmm. I remember a few times I turned my radio on full blast to a hip-hop station, locked my door, then climbed out the window. The Ogress had the nerve to complain about me listening to music at 8 o'clock at night, meanwhile the bitch wakes me up every morning listening to fucking Madonna at 7am. Speaking of which, what kind of self-respecting Mexican person doesn't like Cypress Hill?
The next year, it was better with roommates because we gained another cool Chicana, Faby. I was on the payphone outside once and Faby walked by with some Australian guy she'd just met named "Jack." The next morning, Jack was eating Captain Crunch at our breakfast table. I sent a laughing "you ho" look on over to Faby and she replied "I liked his accent." We also gained some crazy ass psycho too. She was just weird. She took spacey to a whole new level. She used my razor once and left it by the side of the tub filled with pubic hair. What kind of person does that? I ripped her a new asshole for that one. Her boyfriend called once and I went to tell her, but she was sleeping. I was about to wake her up (per his instructions), when she woke up and asked me "Were you watching me sleep?" I responded "No, are you stupid?"
Another time, she invited out-of-town guests over and partied all through finals week. Then went home for Christmas Break and left all her nasty ashtrays, beer bottles and dishes everywhere. I told the preceptor I was locked out of my room, got the master key, opened her room and dumped all the cigarette butts, bottles and dirty dishes onto her bed. Wait now I'm getting confused, who was the psycho roommate, her or me. Yet another time she hid in her room because I was drunk and threatening to beat her ass for flaking on my friend (she promised to go with him to a party then backed out but still wanted him to give her a ride three hours north to visit some guy). She was shook so she decides not to flake on him and came with us to the party we were hitting up. After a couple drinks she looks over at me and...
Weird Roommate: What are you thinking?
Me: You don't want to know.
Weird Roommate: Yes I do.
All the frat guys around us who know me: NO, you don't.
Me: I was thinking that if Ho-ing around was an Olympic event, you'd win the gold medal.
Ahhh.... I miss college sometimes. Hey T, you reading this? You remember Pauline don't you? Remind me to tell you guys one day about the time we poured cream of corn (CREAM of not CHILDREN of) all over the bird house that belonged to the people down the stairs (DOWN the not UNDER the), just to be rude because they were such anal fucks.
Speaking of THAT movie, today I was on the phone with Kwame and I asked him how come every single time I said the words "children of the corn" I looked over my shoulder as if they were going to come out to Jersey City and creep up on me. Excuse me, let me rephrase that. What I meant was, "as if they actually existed and were going to come out to Jersey City and creep up on me." And Kwame replied, "Because you're a cartoon."
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