CrappaCrappa

Every now and then I get the ocassional questions about my looks, and who do I take up after. Without fail I would be struggling with an answer because of my uncertainty. Honestly adoption jokes aside, I don't think I look anything like my parents. The toddler version of me resembled most of my Dad during his skinny years and when I was about 7 or 8 I looked like my Mum. And then I got fat and my Mum referred me as the lovechild of an Ah Long and the lady who sells vegetables at the night market. -___-" Which explains not only her sadistic humour, but mine as well. ~~Thanks Mum.~~

Flash forward to present day, somehow my looks differ from the norm of my parents and I look neither like my Dad, my Mum or a nationality for that matter. I don't look Chinese. I don't look Malay. Nor do I pass as a Caucasian. So whatthefuckam I?

I am still trying to find out what ethnicity I could fit into and then go on with my life lying about my heritage but it's no use. Call it motherly instincts, my Mum would always know when to push my buttons, and she is effortlessly punctual especially when I am having one of those days. It amazes me really. My Mum would often tell me how weird looking I was and that if I were taller I would have been the face of Benetton. Her compliments are weird because somewhat they come across as degrading, which is a talent come to think about it. Like how when I was fat she used to call me "Budak Tetek Besar" and told me to take it as a good thing. I was 12 at that time, and it didn't occur to me that it was a form of sexual harassment, mind you I woud have sued the shit out of my Mum if it wasn't for her cooking. Anyways, because of that I have a minute fear of having boobs. ~~Again, thanks Mum.~~

Still, given a choice, I would not want to look any different. Unless, if god asked me if I would like to swap my face with Vanessa Hudgens, in which I would probably get a heart attack from joy and end up waking up in Hell. booo.