The secret life of the Chinese American teenager.

I work at a movie theater, minimum wage, long hours, the usual. I make my own money, and ever since I have started getting a decent paycheck I've never really asked for a lot from my parents, I paid for choir tour fully by myself, I paid for both my AP tests, and pay for my own food and clothes. I'm not saying this for pity, people should work for their belongings, it creates character. Anyway back to the main subject of my post, if you've studied my earlier posts you've noticed that i have a weak spot for charities and humanitarianism work. A healthy obsession if you ask me. I support a website that sells clothing in order to create funds that will support humanitarian organizations all over the world, the organizations differ from providing clean water in Guatemala to liberating sex slaves in India and I'm in love with the idea. I get a fashionable shirt and the opportunity to impact a life for the better. There was a recent donation going on where the website owners were willing to donate $21 to a center for autistic children for every product sold, I bought a shirt worth $21 and therefore the amounts would cancel each other out and it would be as if I got the shirt for free.

A little information before I continue, my mother was born in Hong Kong, after getting married and giving birth to my two older sisters, our family moved to the U.S. in hopes of a better life, not to be rascist or rude in anyway, but there is only one word to describe my parents. They are FOB's, fresh off the boat, (slang Chinese Americans use to describe Chinese people just moving to the U.S.) they speak in broken English and scowl whenever either one of my sisters act too American. As if there is a thing, since we were born in America.

Now that you know a little bit more about my mother, it's back to the story again. So the shirt arrives in a bright white package, I've been at home all day and hearing word from my father that my mother is returning home from a long day at work I decide to make her a BLT sandwich. Before I'm done my mother enters through the garage door looking tired and before i can even set my beautiful BLT sandwich on the counter in front of her, she plops the package in front of me.

"What is this? Are you buying stuff from the internet? Why do you keep wasting your money on such things? Why don't you donate your money to me?? You never buy me things and yet you are buying yourself these things!..."

wait a minute...did i hear what i just thought i heard? She just asked me how dare I buy things for myself when I don't buy things for her. I guess in her mind my money never belonged to me.
I'll admit that by now I'm pretty mad, and I also admit that it is because of my short temper and the fact that I have been alone at home for ten hours with nobody talking to me and that the first hello i get is a lecture. I snap, a bad move in my direction, I tell her how I always offer to pay when we eat out and that I work for my money and she storms out, leaving my BLT cold on the counter. It's after she leaves that I realize what i have done wrong and I call her

"Yes."
"Mom?"
"..."
"I'm sorry"
"For what"
"For snapping at you, I shouldn't have done that"
"...(painfully long stretch of silence)"
"Mom?"
"Yes"
"Do you forgive me?"
"I don't know"
and then she hangs up.

...And that folks, is a lovely representation of the daily doings of my mother. The woman who gave birth to me acts like a 15 year old. The squabbles in my house usually consist of my mother and little sister arguing and guess who breaks the fight up? Me. Who mopes around the house when something doesn't go her way and when the family finally sucks up their pride and gives her what she wants she acts like she would rather die than forgive those who wronged her.
gotta love my mother.

Clean Slate.

Most of the girls my age wonder when that cute boy will finally kiss them or ponder upon the day when the  casual conversations and teases with that special someone will become something more. I would say that those are some of my typical fantasies but then again, I'm not just a regular girl. Instead my daydreams consist of a casual hello in the hallway or a text saying "hey, how's it going?". Not exactly romantic, but we all have to start somewhere right?


And that's the thing that kills me.


Other than school dances (majority of girls choice) I've never been on a date before. 
Not only that, but no guy has ever asked for my name or number ever. EVER


Kind of sad.
How unfortunate.
What a disaster


Heartbreaking.


I'm so...pathetic.


Is there something wrong with me? 


A lot of people I know call me a late bloomer. But maybe that isn't it. 
Maybe I'm a dud. 
It doesn't help that my best friends are all truly gorgeous, flawless beyond imagination.


Liquid chocolate eyes.
Perfect golden hair
Drill Captain.
Gorgeous smile with confidence to boot.
National American Miss runner up.


Oh and there's me, what's the word again? Oh yeah. Pathetic.


Pitiful Pathetic Lamentable Low Inadequate Shabby Insignificant Despicable
Dismal Worthless Hateful Contemptible Alone Sad Unfortunate Disaster


Is it so wrong to want something? To want attention? To look good in pictures?
To not need billowy clothing to hide one's body? To want someone to call?
To go on a date? To kiss a boy? To feel needed?


So many questions and so many needs.


Someone I know told me they respected me because I never act desperate. But in reality, all that I have is a\  mask. I'm good at hiding, so well that no one would ever expect me to feel down on myself. I'm good at focusing on others problems. Because in their world my problems don't exist. To them, real problems are issues with boyfriends and horrible date experiences. In which I have none. To them I don't care about these things. How would Emily ever know? She's never even liked a boy.
I have.
I was just too afraid to show it, because I knew what would happen if i did. 
Disappointment


Who will read this? No one. Because Emily never has anything interesting to say.

snippet

It's during times like these when I wonder. What will happen to me later on? Will i be happy?
These moments that pass us, leave so suddenly, so soon, that our minds can barely wrap around the fact that they are gone.

Wallpaper

So far, my life has consisted of the same things.

School
Church
Some more schooling
Occasional interesting weekend
Church
and as always more school

Not exactly the most charming lifestyle i admit. And I guess now would be the perfect time for a change.
I don't exactly know what i'm trying to say, but I guess I'll spit it out anyway, I want to be different, I want to be someone else...is that so bad? In seminary we always mention our Heavenly Father's plan and how we're all unique and have roles to fill. We're led to believe that we are beautiful and imperfect at the same time, that we are divine but how can i be divine when i don't want to be me? I don't even know what i'm saying anymore, this doesn't make any sense. I guess what i'm saying is that my life i'm living isn't at all what i expected it to be. High school is supposed to be either horrible or amazing, but my experience is neither of the two, it's just school, is that normal? Am i a loser in which nothing happens to? Am i wallpaper?