Why my childhood should be a sitcom

One of the greatest things about being raised by my grandparents is the fact that I was basically raised in Vietnam (minus the hunger, humidity, guerilla warfare). I basically ran around in circles for hours broken up with eating and watching TV. Sounds like your childhood? Let me tell you why I'm the next "Everybody Hates Chris" show. But instead, it would be "Everybody is indifferent about Annie" but since the title probably won't catch on, I'll just have to settle with some sort of inspiration after I tell my stories.

Once, I got lost at Target, basically a mother's and child's greatest fear. My mom is really funny and nice, but when it came to dealing with me, she was always annoyed. I was always so tired and I never cared so when I went to target with my mom, I usually went to the toy aisle as she stocked up Playtex Maxi pads (true story, she literally bought 50 packages once. It was on sale and she filled an ice chest we were planning on buying as well as the surrounding areas within the cart. Sooo muuucchhhh scanning) Anyways, I went everywhere and I couldn't find my mom and I was convinced she forgot me, and I contemplated walking to my gmama's house. I even paged her on the intercom. TWICE! I was about to cry. And of course, since I had NO COMMON SENSE at that time, I thought she died within the clothing corrals and no one can find her because she's so little. Then I saw my mom at the cash registers and seeing that I was crying, she got really pissed off that I got so emotional for nothing. She pretended she didn't know me, left the store with me following and didn't look at me like we were strangers. I'm pretty sure I was old at this point. Like 13....Speaking of store incidences, I split my eyebrow open at a store near our house ducking under a metal thing and then proceeding to hit my head against a corner of the table. When I asked my mom if I have a bump on my face, she proceeded to start screaming. I got 9 stitches that evening and when people asked if I was crying because I was feeling a lot of pain, I replied with "I DON'T WANT THEM TO SHAVE MY EYEBROW". It was hard to believe that this blubbering mess was so vain, but she was. Afterwards, my mom told me she never got to buy those pants that were on sale and held myself accountable for her lost of the sale item.

Once, I'm pretty sure strangers came up to my parents and asked to take pictures with my sister. Arguably, she was adorable.

but I really thought that they would take a picture of me afterwards, but I literally stood in the back. unnoticed. in the rain.
There probably wasn't any rain, but that was exactly how I felt. Like in a Christmas movie special and a little boy goes into the 'what if' situation and sees the outcome if he chooses one decision over the other. He sees the happy family that he's not part of around the xmas tree smiling and having a good time and he was creeping at the large bay windows outside in the cold. I was that kid.
They probably thought I was a hobo child by the looks of my teeth (or lack thereof)

While my aunt was talking to strangers at the park. I interrupted the conversation by saying "I'm Annie, and I'm shy". I'm an idiot

Once, my partner in crime (my cousin Paul +1 year than I) decided that it was a good idea to express ourselves . By painting. A wall. with my aunt's makeup. A few bottles of nail polish, countless eyeshadows, and blush+ blush brushes later; MASTERPIECE. My aunt resented us. My grandma had to repaint the entire room.

Lastly, Asian superstition. I've always grown up with weird crap put on me and weird sayings to cure myself of things. For instance, once, my grandma chased after me with some sort of substance in a bottle to rub on my huge bruise. When I asked her what it was, she said bear bile. BEAR BILE! WHO OWNS THAT?! HOW DO YOU COLLECT THAT? I don't know, but if you ask my grandma, she will have all the answers. to everything. ever. As an adult, I actually have a voice in what I want to be done to my body, but as a child, I had to endure some nonsensical remedies.
As stupid children, my cousin and I loved running in narrow corridors and slamming doors. As a result, we always had bumps and bruises, especially on our heads (OHMYGOSH, IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW) anyways, big bumps on out heads are usually hidable with hair, but not the ones on your forehead. What's alleviates the booboo? Ice pack? kisses? no. HOT KNIVES. I kid you not, after propelling my face into a wall, I'm usually greeted with a hot butcher knife. Held against my will kicking and screaming, my grandma would have just heated a meat cleaver, salted my bump (i'm not making this up) and then touch the flat side onto the bump 3 times. Why. I cannot tell you how counter-intuitive it is to put something painfully hot onto something that was already painful, but look at me now! :)

Phunnie Phamilee

This was in the latest installments of emails my mom has send to the family as she spends her time basking in the aura of holiness. She's recently departed to Euroland where she will be pilgrimage (pronounced pil-gri-mauge in Ye Old English. Thanks Chaucer!) to Catholic holy sites. The Ground Zero Mosque if you will. (just kidding. too soon?) Anyways, this is the following message:

we went to a lot of places in Rome. om taook a bus ride at a middle of the night / me. we kissed a lot of saint bones and Jesus stuff, touching the holly things.

took a lot of pics. mom has a good time w/ bunch of her oldies.

bye for now.

Love u all,

Le

Why was it, that one fateful day, my TA asked if I was born in a different country and that my misspellings and grammatical errors were common to those in her ESL classes? Dunno. Can't be because of my mom because she's obviously a Nobel Peace Prize winner in writing. But it was an entertaining thing to read. 

What I like most about my mom is that she's funny on accident and on purpose. She also likes attention. I am my mom. 

She's also good with remembering good stories. Here's one for the Annie chronicles. 

"Once, we got our airline tickets when you were about 4 or 5 and you were looking at them with your dad. Your father showed you the first ticket and pointed to the name. You correctly answered, "Annie Tran". Impressed, you dad showed you the next ticket. He, again, pointed to the name and asked you to read it. You exclaimed, "Tuan Tran"! At this point, he was really excited. "A CHILD PRODIGY! MY CHILD IS GOING TO BE A GENIUS!" Then the moment of truth. 

dad - "Annie, what does this say?" pointing to the name of the 3rd and final ticket

annie - "Mom Tran!"

The hopes and dreams of this father for his daughter came to a crashing end. She's not going to go to Harvard. She's not going to be really good at chess. She won't acquire the ability to play piano arpeggios with her back facing the keys. Or do a no handed triple somersault. She was not meant to be a child prodigy of any kind.

I was born to sound and write like a fob. Awesome.

Being productive. HA

So today I went to class late because I decided that staying in bed and sleeping in was more productive than a pamphlet that is due today. Needless to say, I HAVE NO REGRETS. I was at the computer lab where we get free printing so long as the printer that charges 5c a page stays broken. I'm saving up all my small change. You know, to jam the printer. Oh, you must have thought I was going to say to pay for my prints. NO THANKS. I am here for a 5th year and they're sucking enough money out of me. I WANT MY FREE PRINTS

In other news, I went to the library to do two things. Do Pchem hw. And blog. typical library duties. Well, I went to the computer lab but one of them has been converted into a special needs media center where the screens are literally HUGE FLAT SCREEN TVs. Not wanting to face persecution for using these projector screens to write about jewish people, ;) , I went off in search for a less conspicuous computer.

Today my mom went to europe and I'm very stressed about the whole ordeal. I hope her and my gmama are okay. They're going to europe with a bunch of old vietnamese people who's main concern isn't the pick pocketing, but rather, if a rice cooker is a possible check in item. SERIOUSLY. My mom texted me this morning before she left. She said that it will kinda suck because she's going with my gmama. I wanted to respond with a text that said, "one day, it may be the same with us, what goes around comes around". A message about charishing the time you have with your mom. I wanted to write said message, but I only thought about it. because sleep was more valuable to me than teaching my mom a lesson about loving her mother. Oh the irony.

I keep scratching the bug bites I got from yesterday. There are a lot of things about frisbee that I don't like, namely, the long practices. People suck now because they're just learning so I have to be patient. It's cold. We don't play nearly as much as we should. and the bugs. MY LORD davis needs a spray down like the mosquito sprays (cancer causing misting) in Eygpt.

Looks like a cloud! But don't touch it!

Also, recently, I've been eating a huge slice of pie everyday. 6 dollars for a costco pie. To myself. Why does america have an obesity problem? It's been fantastic except for the fact that I ate some pie and honeyed ham right before practice yesterday thinking that my body is capable of amazing things. Such as containing food consumed 15 minutes before during a ton of physical exertion. It was cool. I didn't puke. that much. and it was really a burp. a watery one. with chunks of pie and ham. I know, it really was more of a November month type of burp. October burps should have been more candy filled, but unlike a pinata, this is a time where you don't want to see the candy come out.