Momma's Comments

I got home pretty late tonight and my mom asked me where I was, and I gave her a smartass reply and told her I was doing homework and she replied, "Du ma may!" (1). She dropped a huge f-bomb on me then proceeded to lanzar(2) pillows at me.

1. f*!# you!

2. to throw in spanish

Two Immature Words

Word #1 = "Mom, I want more cơm."

Cơm is rice in Vietnamese. When some people hear me say that, they go crazy. - Immature

Word #2 = "Phuc"

As a child I thought my parents were dropping F-bombs, but they were talking about Buddha.

Phuc = Buddha

Exploring Emotion

Philosophically speaking, if we journey through the inner depths of our minds, our souls, and our bodies, can we explain our actions and emotions? Can we apply science or logic to the way we feel? Probably not. Why do we think the way we do? Is there a reason to why I despise the way my brother talks? Maybe it's because he's 14 and he talks with a lot of bass. As sane people, most of us have the ability to reflect and to express; reflect as our internal way to express opinion to ourselves, and express as our external way to commit an action. As a very judgmental person, I am quick to reflect and express. To be honest, my actions usually have no thought behind them. In public places, my mom and I are disgusting about the way we judge people, but now that I think back on it, they do nothing wrong to me.

In the end, who cares. Our emotions allow us to be people with a backbone. I've tried to imagine my life without having the Vietnamese element to it, and it's dull.

What good is life when you can't laugh and love.

Kim Ledo

Kim Ledo thinks that our dogs understand Vietnamese... she told them to stop jumping on her but they kept on doing it.

I told my mom that I wasn't doing homework tonight. Her response: screw you in Vietnamese.

My Cousin Jessica

Looks can definitely be deceiving, and the ladies working at a nail salon had to experience that first hand when they met my cousin Jessica. Jessica is a half vietnamese and American woman with a hot temper, which she got from my late uncle Buddy, who smoked cigarettes and once broke my piggy bank and took all of my change. Buddy Johnson did not take it from anybody and Jessica is the same way.

Jessica gets her mani's and pedi's like most women (stereotype?) do and she gets them done at an all Vietnamese salon. Even though she is half Vietnamese, you would never guess that she was because she looks 100% American. The woman doing her pedicure laughed at my cousin and told all of her friends, "This girl's feet are hideous." What she didn't know was that Jessica completely understood her. To make it awkward, my cousin acted like she was talking to someone on the phone and spoke in understandable Vietnamese after she heard this. There wasn't a word spoken between all the ladies in the nail salon after this.

Barbershop

Every three to five weeks, I must get a haircut. I absolutely cannot stand my hair being long as Asian hair gets pretty oily when it gets long and I feel disgusting. I get my haircut done at a small barbershop in Chinatown off Bellaire where two very nice Vietnamese sisters cut my hair. I usually get my haircut from Co Kim, who is the taller of the sisters and also the older one. She is very boring to talk to but at least she gets the job done, and it's quick. She always asks me if my mom overfed me as a child because I am a little bigger than most Vietnamese people are.

Most of my trips to Plaza Salon are pretty uneventful, but today, there was a little, chubby Vietnamese boy who was there with his mom. Most little, chubby Vietnamese boys have huge potty mouths and are very offensive with their comments. As soon as I heard his high-pitched, schoolboy like voice, I knew he was going to cause some trouble. Today, this little boy decided to verbally harass Co Kim. As he was getting his haircut, he decided to jolt his body and Kim's razor took a large blob of hair off the back of his head. After this, a huge bald spot was left on his head. He let out a horrific screech that pierced my ears and yelled, "Ba nay dieu dien oa!" In English, that translates to, "This hag is a b____!" I stopped mid-text and looked up in shock but I became extremely satisfied. This boy reminded me of myself as a child. I always cursed at homeless people and when my family owned a bar downtown, I would go out to drunk patrons and curse at them in Vietnamese because my aunt told me to.

That little boy's comment was unpleasant to the other people in the barbershop, but I was secretly reminiscing on how I used to be.

Tushie (Double-Meaning) Talk

There is no greater feeling in the world when you know that you can talk mess about someone and they have no clue what you are saying. This is the true advantage of being bilingual. Sure you have better chances of landing a job with a bilingual profile, but it is very exciting when strangers have no clue what you are saying about them. As a bilingual person, when you are in public places, you have options as to what language you want to use when you tushie (s#@t) talk about someone. I can speak English when it is blatant that I am in an area full of foreign unilingual people, or I can boldly comment about the bizarre mannerisms of the man standing in front of me with my mother in Vietnamese.

With a Vietnamese ethnicity, you automatically are at times ill-mannered and very derogatory. You heavily judge people and you hate all other asian people that are not family members. Some Vietnamese people say they aren't racist but they are definitely stereotypical, like my family.

Now that you know all of this, you are now prepared to read my blog about the rude things I catch strangers, family members, and even myself say.