Okay, so maybe the title’s a bit exaggerated.. But whatever.

I’m aware of the fact that probably only 2 or 3 people on this site remember me now but I felt like writing today. Also, I thought of updating fetal diary readers that may still be active on tckid, or just simply reintroducing myself.

It’s funny, because when I started out here in tckid, I wasn’t even 16 yet, still an amateur writer, and only ranted about my love life (it’s embarrassing, but true). It was easier to talk about my life, because tckid was relatively very very small, hence most people knew me and read my stuff frequently. Eventually, I grew as a writer, and as a person, not just because of tckid, but because of the people I became good friends with here. I think that the only thing that never changed about me is that I still type my blogs from my phone (I’m doing that now). I develop ideas better this way.

Now, I can’t even remember the last time I wrote, or what entry number I left at. I feel guilty now, because (not to brag) I knew that people actually enjoyed my stuff, whether it be just a random blog about my life as a teenager TCK in a small Canadian town or a serious article about racism.

The truth is – well – there are a number of reasons why I stopped writing. First, school and work took its toll on me and I just turned into a full-time sloth outside of school or work. Also, I have piano, which I have to practice for, and for some time, I also contributed to a local Calgary Filipino newspaper, another thing that I eventually also neglected.

It’s frustrating, because I have nothing to write about. Not here, nor for the newspaper. Truth be told, I stopped writing for the newspaper when a former Filipino coworker, and I guess, a friend, died in a car crash; when someone suggested I wrote about it because it was “news” from this town I lived in, I was disheartened. I was stuck between my potential career as an actual journalist one day and being an emotional nutcase.

Of course, one may argue that my career won’t be over, because I’m only 17, but my father believes that I should write and get published often, even if this is just a local newspaper for Fil-Canadians, to have something to show for someday. He’s right, I suppose.

However, I still can’t bring myself to do it, so I have ignored my dad’s constant “Hey, I thought this was what you wanted: to write,” or “I’m disappointed in you for neglecting your position as a contributor”.

I don’t think my dad believes in that think writers call “the writer’s block”. But I do, and he doesn’t take it for an answer.

I just shrug it off now, despite my guilt. Yes, I like to write, but only when I get inspired. You can’t squeeze water out of a rock, and that’s what he’s trying to do. Squeeze out good articles from a teenaged writer that only writes when inspired.

Honestly, as much as I wanna write more often for the newspaper, I’m still sorta busy. I have a LIFE, and I dislike that he puts it to my face that it’s second priority.

*Sigh* if I lived somewhere more exciting, then maybe, I’ll be an article writing machine. There’s that TCK itch again.

Well, that’s it for now. I’ve given my long due update/reintroduced myself, and hope to get back on track with my writing and get my readers back or get new readers

Rant over.

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Maybe it’s just me being naive, but my first assumption about non-TCKs that never moved out of their birthtown is that they probably never made it outside Canada. Of course, that is untrue. I have a handful of non-TCK acquaintances/friends (that still have the same address they used back in kindergarten) that go on vacations outside the country more than my family could. I can’t count how many Fort Mc kids I knew were in Europe, Central America, and even Asia last summer. I will give you, the reader, a moment to pause and think about the million reasons as to why this is unfair… *moment of silence*

See, I see no problems with them getting out and interacting with the rest of the world. I say go and do that for the rest of your life – it’s a good thing. I mean, that’s how I was brought up, and I see no wrong in that.

The thing is, most of the said acquaintances and/or friends that go out of the country for vacations go for a tan, new clothes, and “a break from it all”. You’d think they’d come back with all that AND new or improved perspectives on the rest of the world, but noooo, that’s not the case. Nuh uh. It’s almost a given that they will come back with foreign words that they almost always manage to mangle pronounciation wise, but never a new perspective on the global community.

If it weren’t for the reprecussions (a.k.a. my bank account done broke), I’d have brought plane tickets to Thailand for my whole Math 20 Pure class. Math class, because I think my Advanced English 20-1 and Physics 20 classmates are a relatively intelligent bunch. That would be fun. Just the look on their faces when they experience major culture shock.. I can see it now.. However, I don’t think I have money in the safe to start with anyways, so that that brilliant idea is out the window.

However, the math kids still need some global education. First, the insensitive racial comments that I hear everyday is simply outrageous. I barely ever make a big deal out of it, but lately, it seems like my classmates have been on a racist-comment-saying mode. If someone sent these kids to some country with a proud peoples, I don’t think they’d make it out alive.

* * *

Two days ago, I was at a party. I was the only TCK, non-Caucasian girl there. Now I love these people I chilled at the party with. They’re a cool, smart, polite bunch of kids, and they know how to throw a decent party. But there was one particular thing one of the girls said that threw me off. One, because it was totally naive (for lack of a better word) and she’s a smart girl. But two, I kinda expected to hear that from one of them sooner or later during the night. I know, contradicting, but that is what I thought. Anyways, this is what she said: “You’re Filipino, Kristine?? I thought you were Japanese Korean!” Now let’s pause again.. LEARN YOUR DIFFERENT ASIANS WOMAN! I would get it if she said I looked Thai or Indonesian. That sort of makes sense. But I am far from Japanese or Korean. I can’t even say I speak Japanese yet, since my very first Japanese test today showed that I fail at it (but I will not back down). And my Korean is limited to: “Do you wanna die?” “No,” “Yes,” and “I love you”. One thing I need to teach my classmates: learn the different kinds of Asians, because there’s something wrong when Japanese are supposed to look Filipino and vice versa.

Oh, and as I write this, I’m on MSN chatting, and I just asked one of my classmates if I looked Japanese or Korean. He said that yes, I do. That it. I give up.

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This is what people in my advanced English class have been teasing me about:
“Kristine, are you scared youth in asia would make you drink orange juice?”

I know that this doesn’t make sense to you so I shall explain. Let’s hope I finish this blog before 11 pm..

So, my english teacher was trying to make a point. She said that we shouldn’t keep questions to ourselves. That if we were ever confused or stuck, we should ask her. Of course, like any good teacher, she gives a personal example.

“When I was a kid,” she said, “my grandmother and my aunt were talking about euthanasia. You know, like, ending a person’s life to end their suffering, basically.. Anyways, I misunderstood and thought she was talking about YOUTH IN ASIA. So when they started talking more about this, I was thinking, ‘wow, these kids in Asia are cruel..’ and how they probably put poison in a person’s drink to kill them.. Cause I heard them talking about dying and all.. And so I took it that youth in Asia do that kind of thing. Yes, I had this mindset for some years all because I didn’t clarify with my grandma and aunt. So class, the point is, you should ask questions when you’re unsure so you wouldn’t be paranoid about young Asians offering you orange juice.”

This is the part where my friends turn to me and stare.

There are only two Asians in my class: yours truly and some Chinese dude nobody likes to talk to. They don’t talk to him because we all think his parents kept him in the dark. He’s the kind to ask the awkward questions when something lewd is the topic because he is that naive. Anyways, because I’m the only Asian in that class that they will talk to, they stare at me.

“Oi! Stop staring! I don’t even like orange juice!” I protest.

That was the ABSOLUTE worst thing I could’ve said at the moment.

“Why, do you get paranoid when someone offers you OJ, Kristine?” someone asked.”

“No, that is not the case. I just don’t drink orange juice because it makes me puke, thank you very much,” I reply.

I should stop replying. I just keep on making the stupidest replies.

“Someone put poison in it?”

“Noooo..” *slams head on desk, followed by laughter*

Seriously. Orange juice. Poison. Youth in Asia.

What did I do to deserve this? I mean it’s funny but.. WHY?

Anyways, 11 09 pm. Pce.

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I have been thinking of writing about this topic for a few weeks now and haven’t had a chance since I first thought of it. Technically, I don’t have time to write this, because I’m writing my 3rd article for that newspaper (this article is on TCKS!) but I really miss writing Fetal Diaries..

Anyways.. So I realised a few weeks ago that I really missed out on that whole ‘typical North American childhood’. I came to this realisation when my English class went to the college’s theatre to watch this brand new play’s dress rehearsal, called Nevermore. It was a half-fictional, half-real play about Edgar Allan Poe’s life (I love him). To get there, we were picked up from school by yellow school buses. Yes, the typical North American school buses.

It was my first time to ride one of those. Seriously.

Well, okay, maybe I won’t be so alone here, since this IS a TCK site. But really, that was my first time to ride one. Not that it was all that great, but I am already sixteen, turning 17, and that was my first time. A friend didn’t want to believe me at first, when I told her. She asked how I went to school as a kid. So I went on for 2 minutes, explaning how I got to school in my previous schools. In the Philippines, my nanny and I would just walk to school. The school was, after all, a mere block away from our house. In the UAE, we had coaster buses that brought us to school. In Calgary, I used public transit because it was reliable there, and I did the same here, only it was less reliable.

“Wow, I missed out on a lot, now that I think of it…” I said, looking down on my shoes, smiling, eating a piece of my mousse cake. She laughed at that, and so did I.
“Okay, have you ever… eaten candy apples in a fair?” she asked.
“Do people really do that?” I chuckled.
“YES!” she said, and I blink at her, because I seriously thought that people never really did that. “How about… ride a pony at a farm?”
“Nope,”
“You really missed out!” she said, “Where were you and what were you doing?”

I took a moment to think about it, and then replied, “Well, I was… riding camels at fairs, sliding down grass meadows on cardboard boxes, learning Arabic, French and English all at the same time, feeding peanuts to elephants during a trip to Thailand, running around a desert at night, stealing a coin from a Buddha statue when we were in Malaysia… and all sorts of odd stuff…”

She laughed loudly at that and said I was weird, but really, that’s what I did as a kid. So really, I only missed out on North American stuff, but then I realise she also missed out MORE since she only had the typical North American childhood while I was globe-trotting and doing all sorts of crazy stuff.

* * *

Halloween came and the house was stocked up on candy and chocolates. Stocked up for those kids that walk around at night in costumes and ask for candy or whatever you have, yeah? Anyways, one of my Japanese exchange student friends told me that we should go trick or treating. I said that I don’t really have a costume. She then suggested I could wear her yukata, so I said sure, what the heck, why not?

Then I realised that I’ve never gone trick or treating before either.

I mean, sure, I’ve been dragged by my horse costumed brother once before, but never really dressed up and asked for some candy or whatever. My Japanese friend then said later on, while we were walking around, that she really wanted to do this now, before she goes back to Japan. They never really do it there, and said this was her last chance, before she turns 18. So I told her that I think it’s really just another North American thing, cause I never really did it either. Not a big thing in the Mid East and the Philippines.

We did Christmas carolling as kids in the Mid East though, and got money doing that. We used to give half of the money we earned to the church, I remember, and the remaining half, we’d distribute among ourselves. So I guess we also had those little things going on that they didn’t normally do in North America.

All I’m saying is, at first, I thought I missed out on a lot of stuff. But then again, if you think about it, I never really did. As a matter of fact, I experienced more exciting things.

I’d take watching a giraffe crossing our vehicle in a safari than candy apples in a fair anytime.

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Hi guys! I know I haven’t written in probably over a month now – who really knows anymore! It’s been too long! I’ve been dying to write, I promise, but it’s been so busy! Today alone, I was in Physics class for FOUR hours. It’s been beyond hectic, and it’s driving me crazy. Oh, and I’ve been reading Macbeth, doing 5902 exams on it, obsessing over it – you all should see my Shakespeare bible (my friends and I call it that, because it does look like one, except instead of the Bible books, I have all of Shakespeare’s plays and some poems and sonnets in there). I have been QUOTING lines from it, and putting it into normal conversation. That is what grade 11 English Advanced Placement does to you, my friends. My friend told an (obvious) lie to my English teacher today, and I ended up saying, “Thou liest, you shag ear’d villain!” to my friend. That is, by the way, from Macbeth, Act 4 scene 2 (I think) when Macduff’s family was murdered. Indeed, I have been reading into it too much… And guys, great novel: Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistlestop Cafe. Just.. read it, it’s amazing. It made me cry one minute, then laugh the next. Literally.

Anyways, updates! For those that know me pretty well, you should know that I dream of becoming a journalist someday. Well, guess what guys? Just a few weeks ago, for the first time, I got published in this Filipino-Canadian newspaper in Calgary. Of course, it’s part luck, because we sort of knew the editor, then again, I don’t think I would’ve been published without me working for it, yeah? So, published at sixteen years old, and I think we get the newspapers tonight, yay!

The article was about Fort McMurray, for those that want to know. Not exactly my best work, ever, but hey, it got in, and I’ll take this opportunity to write more, and better. TCKID has been a great help for that, of course I’m planning on sending the editor some of my past blogs here, after a bit of editing so it wouldn’t seem so much as a blog, but more as an article. Next one I plan on sending is Behind Canada’s Mask (http://www.tckid.com/group/the-fetal-diaries-34-behind-canadas-mask/) then The Arab in Me (http://www.tckid.com/group/the-fetal-diaries-41-the-arab-in-me/).

I got my dad to read those two blogs, and he liked them both, but a little speechless with Behind Canada’s Mask. Said he knew I had potential, just didn’t know that I can write that well already Ah, it feels good to get his approval for once. And, after handing those past blogs in, I’ll write an article about TCKs (woo!) and I’ll try to come up with questions and I hope I get answers ^^

For now, I’ll work on editing those blogs, send them in… I’m really, really happy And to my kuya, Brice, thanks for this site, really! This is like, my writing school. Thanks for the opportunity. And of course, for the people that read my blogs, and give me feedback, thanks a lot too!

Well, I got to edit now, I have this new blog cooking up in my notebook. Hint: Canada and Physics.

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This won’t count as a Fetal Diary entry because.. there’s #42 on queue, still, and I don’t want to change the number for that one for certain reasons. And this isn’t really a blog. I just want to quickly explain why I’ve been gone, and show you guys something cool

School started, and I only have 3 courses this semester, but all are pretty hardcore. Math 20 Pure, English 20 Enriched/Advanced Placement, and Physics 20. And I’m doing some side work for Photography.. gonna be covering the pep rally this October. Lots of homework, especially with English and Macbeth by Shakespeare, which isn’t hard – just that I get a lot of homework. Physics is starting to take up my time too. Math ALWAYS does. Blah.

Anyways, yesterday, after school, I was at a dollar store with some friends and with my sisters, picking up some scrapbook items. I saw a bunch of glowstick packages, and remembered that I have a new camera and can use it for something cool… Like this

The thing isn’t at all original, but yeaah, I just wanted to try it out. It’s my first time to do that kinda stuff.. I have more posted on my facebook, but they’re lower quality when uploaded there.. Oh well. So that’s it for now! Maybe I’ll make cooler ones later, when I buy more glowsticks. For now, peace out.

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I was at work today, working on the children’s clothes, when I heard this child screaming, “Ana! Ana! Ana!”

As a TCK that spent some of my childhood in the Middle East, I quickly turned around, assuming it was an Arab family coming, because “ana” meant something like “I” or “me” in Arabic. So I looked over to the aisle beside mine, and saw, just as I thought, an Arab man, and two of his children, possibly Jordanian or Lebanese.

I smiled to myself, as I glanced at the older son, running around, his light brown curls bouncing up and down, calling his father (“Baba!”) over and over, pulling at his shirt cuffs. I figured he might be asking for something. Sure enough, the kid picked up a toy and walked around with it as his dad talked on the phone.

Of course, because the boy was still so little (I’m thinking about 3 or 4), his tiny legs couldn’t keep up with his dad, plus the toy’s box was just about as big as his whole torso. So a little bit of difficulty running around with that (which was, btw, tres adorable). Anyways, his dad notices that the little boy was a little far behind, so he pauses talking on his phone, and turns around, calling, “Taal, Majd!” (trans: “Come/Hurry Majd!”) By that point, I was so tempted to say hi to the little boy (Majd), but knowing Arab parents, they can be a little suspicious of strangers talking to their children, and so decided not to.

They eventually left a few minutes later, and I went home about an hour later, catching one of my closest friends from the Mid East online. He repatriated back to Sweden a year before I left Abu Dhabi, but we still talk a lot, so I told him what happened. He asked me why I didn’t try to talk to them, and I answered that there really was no point, since it would be rude to talk to the dad, since he was on his cellphone, and well, walking up to his son could cause a little suspiscion.

He said that it would have been so worth it if I had gotten to talk to them, and I agreed. I then randomly told him that I wanted to eat some shwarma (roasted, almost shredded, spiced meat wrapped in Arabic bread along with chips/fries/whatever you call it and possibly some pickles or onions and whatever you feel like putting in there). He laughs, and I told him we should both go back.

He goes, “Oh, I’m going back there either after Christmas this year. Or the Christmas after that,” with a sad smiley after the second sentence (because he wants to go back sooner than later). Lucky boy! What I wouldn’t do to get back…

Reminds me of that time my dad asked over the dinner table if we wanted to go back home. My younger sister goes, “Ha! The Philippines? I’d visit, but I wouldn’t live there,” and I nodded in agreement. My dad then says, “No, I meant Abu Dhabi; who wants to go back?” My sisters and I all raised our hands, all grinning, going, “Me! Me! Me!”

We might as well say, “Ana! Ana! Ana!” like little Majd.

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Kuya Brice and I were talking on MSN and he asked what position I sleep in and I said, on my side, on my right, usually. Then he showed me this pic:

Guys, how ironic issit that my sleeping position is the Foetus? Haha, I love this.

Anyways, apparently, your sleeping position gives a clue of what kinda person you’re like. For the full article, go to: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/3112170.stm

Here’s mine:
The Foetus: Those who curl up in the foetus position are described as tough on the outside but sensitive at heart. They may be shy when they first meet somebody, but soon relax.

And that, too, is accurate, I suppose.. Tell me if you guys’ are accurate, hey? I’ll keep it short! Pce.

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Those that know me, even just a little, will know that my cellphone is something I treasure. Not being materialistic or anything, but it really is essential to me being myself… If that makes sense. It’s just that it’s the greatest way to keep in touch with people important to me, especially those that are far away.

Now the problem about my attachment to my cp/mobile/handy/whatever is that I tend to then text/sms/whatever friends a lot. Like, A LOT. And most of the friends I message, they’re all in other cities/countries. It’s kinda sad. It’s my own money I use, since my parents have given up on trying to pay for that. They get frustrated, because I get the prepaid credit/min/load/whatever so when I use it up, I’d run to my parents, whining about how I can’t call or message anyone. Then they have to run to the store, get me some more… Then I use it up again. They thought about getting me a plan. But they figured if they got me one, they’d be paying even more, because then, I know I don’t have to save credit for emergencies or whatever and that would just result in me texting my parents’ bank accounts away. So, the minute I got my very first job (which was last summer), I had to pay for all my expenses. And that meant my cellphone expenses, clothes, and other random stuff I don’t really need.

As some of you know, I quit my bakery job about a month ago, before leaving for California. That was smart, in a way, because then I don’t have to deal with the racist issues present around me AND my ankle can finally, hopefully, completely heal, because ever since that soccer injury in gym class a couple of months ago, my ankle never really recovered and the bakery job never helped. It pops every now and then, and that sucks. This was also a stupid move, in a way, because then that stopped the cash flow. And like I said, I quit before leaving for Cali so after I got back from my trip, I have used up most of the remaning money AND owed my parents some. That then brings us to me not having money for txting.

That was very frustrating for me…

…But it has also helped me put a hold on my spending.

So anyways, I get back to McCrap, and attempted getting a job at this coffee place, because a friend I made last summer came back, and he’d asked me to work with him for the month that he’s here. However, I now realise that maybe, just maybe, putting ‘racism and discrimination’ as a reason for quitting my previous job in the job application was not the way to go, and I didn’t get a call back. Which wasn’t really a big deal. This is Fort McMurray, and they are always, and I mean ALWAYS, desperate for employees. The problem is, most jobs are downtown. I still don’t have a license (and I really think I should get that done, and many other people in Canada will give a nod when I say SHOULD) so my dad has to drive me.. Because transit in McCrap sucks (see http://www.tckid.com/group/and-i-thought-oh-my-god-this-is-how-im-gonna-die/).

Anyways, this woman that my sister works with (she works at the same store I had my bakery job at, only at a totally different department) told my mom that they’re opening some spots at her dept., and that I should apply. At first I refused, because there is no freakin’ way I’m going back to that store. Then I figured, hey, it’s a different dept., AND it’s an easy job. So I got the job, and been working there a bit over a week now.

… and I’m back to my usual cellphone credit spending habit.

I need help, haha.

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So I was on Facebook, looking at all the pics I tagged today (I have been tagging and putting captions on the crazy amounts of pics I took during my trip to Cali in small bunches, so I won’t get too bored) and was, at the same time, talking to Jerry on MSN. Anyways, I came across a certain pic of myself standing infront of the Universal Studios globe.

I looked at it for a bit, then moved on to the next one, thinking, there’s something wrong with that pic… So I went back to it, and stared at it for another minute or so. What I found was on of the most hilarious things I’ve seen in my life. Like I said, I was talking to Jerry (and for those who dunno who Jer is, he lives in NZ). I then ask him, after calming down (and this is a direct quote off of the MSN convo), “And issit just me, or is there no NZ on this globe?” then I linked him this pic:

I mean, that’s just sad… No New Zealand on that globe indeed. I’m not sure if it’s just being covered up by that guy there, but I’m pretty sure it’s not there.. Jerry thinks it’s phenomenal. Calls it “the world-minus-NZ pic” and he says that it seems like NZ, like many of the species it used to contain, is now extinct. I think I shall call it that too. I won’t be surprised if I don’t find the Philippines either hahaha. So, er, what do you guys think?

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