Buzzzzz.

So.

This is another one of those days in which I have nothing pressing to do, which I’ll admit happens often. Ah, well. That will soon change. I start job No. 2 tomorrow.

That also means I get to see the Frida Kahlo exhibit before anyone. Woo.

—–

While browsing friends’ profiles on Facebook, I decided to leave a comment on Guevarararara’s page because he left a comment on this blog that I found very amusing.

“Carson needs Batmobiles.”

But while perusing his profile, I found a link that asked me, “How Pinoy are you?” Well, personally, I am not very Filipino, though I am very much aware of some of the stereotypical characteristics.

For example, the fun some people have with sucking the eyeballs out of fish heads, or the prowess some show when eating with their hands.

As a result, I found the aforementioned quiz HILARIOUS. So far, my favorite question is this:

When you ask for the bill in a restaurant, do you

a. Say, “Check please!”
b. Draw a rectangle in the air
c. Just wait until the check arrives

My dad always draws rectangles with his finger tips. I always found it amusing because it seemed awfully dainty to me, especially for a 6-foot-tall behemoth like my dad. That, and while in the process of drawing, he also mouths “Check, please.”

One Filipino trait that I have never been able to shake is my response to “Pssst!” or “Hoy!”

I ALWAYS HAVE TO TURN AROUND AND LOOK.

Even if I’m miles away from family, I must respond to that sound. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve been able to make my reaction a bit more discreet, so that I’m not always snapping to attention when that happens.

It’s tough to be fully “Americanized” in the Yay though. There is a gigantic population of Filipino-Americans up here, so I don’t quite feel out of place. I live in Daly City, and there are times when I am struck by the similarities between it and Carson, even though this city is so much larger.

Here’s a strange fact though: Every Filipino I’ve spoken to up here has had to ask if I am Filipina.
Despite my height (I am taller than the average Filipino male), I always figured I was a rather generic specimen of my ethnicity; perhaps that is only so in SoCal. Up here, I am more likely to be asked if I’m Chinese, or even Thai.

Ah, well. It’s better than when I was living in Boston. I met people there who had never heard of a Filipino.

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