1. Fob

First of all…Fob’s are immigrants a.k.a. Fresh off the boat. There are many kinds of fobs (i cant really take credit for this becuz i got this off a site. I added some in)

Twinkie
– Besides your nationality, there is little to distinguish you from white people
– Your significant other is not Asian and never has been
– You have few Asian friends, if any
– You are embarrassed at family events because you cannot speak your language and everyone has to switch to English to communicate with you
– You have no idea that the other types of Asians on this list even exist
– You think Hello Kitty is dumb and do not know what Sanrio is
– You are the only Asian on this list that does not know what Bubble Tea is
– You drive a Ford or some other domestic car and if you drive a Honda, it is stock

Asian-American
– You claim yourself as Asian, but real Asians think you’re whitewashed and non-Asians see you as a foreigner. You fit in nowhere
– You have heard of Bubble Tea but have never actually had any
– You are confused about your cultural identity and express this frustration through spoken word performances at your college
– You read A. magazine and think it’s great
– You do not know who Leon, Aaron, Sammi, Hikki, or Kangta are
– You are only vaguely aware of the other Asians below

Yap (Young Asian Professional)
– You are in one of these professions:
a) Medicine / Pharmaceutical
b) Engineering
c) Finance
d) Investment Banking
e) Accounting
– Most of your wardrobe was purchased at Banana Republic
– You go to “mixers” on Thursday nights to meet other Yaps and talk about the Dow Jones.
– You did exactly what your parents wanted you to do and as a result, your life is hella boring
– Your apartment/home is decorated almost exclusively with stuff from Pier 1
– Your parents always talk to their friends about how much money you make. If they don’t, then you’re a dissapointment

Fob (Fresh Off tha Boat)
– You were not born in America
– You know who Leon, Aaron, Sammi, Hikki, and Kangta are. In fact, you have seen them at Atlantic City or Las Vegas recently
– You speak your native language fluently and so do all your friends
– You do not have any non-Asian friends
– Your parents do not speak any English
– When you speak English, you like to make everything plural
– You get extremely good grades in school
– You cannot dance
– Your fashion sense comes from whatever country you’re from and you incorporate nothing from American fashion into your wardrobe

SuperFob
– Your command of the English language is minimal and you don’t care
– You like dim sum chicken feet
– You do not own a single CD, VCD, Video game, or DVD that isn’t bootlegged
– Your only hangout is Chinatown
– All the lights in your house are fluorescent
– You dry your cloths outside your window
– You need a haircut
– You either smell like cigarettes or food

Fobabee
– You are an Asian-American or Twinkie who has recently “awoken”
– You have a newly found fetish of Asian girls/boys
– You have taken the Asian Studies course at college
– You are trying to learn as much as possible about your culture to make up for your lifetime of trying to be white (Twinkie ; Banana) or Black (Chigger ; Tea egg)
– If you are lucky, you will grow to become Fobulous

Gangsta Fob (Fobsta)
– You have shot another Asian
– Your favorite hangout is a pool hall
– When you talk, you sound like a cross between a Fob and an urban black kid
– Your hair looks silly, but no one will tell you because you’ll shoot them
– You have a serious gambling problem
– You are a Rice-boy, but your mods are cheap and are never painted to match the rest of your car
– No one tells you your rice ride looks cheap because you’ll shoot them
– You want to have a Tab girlfriend, but can only get Hoochie Tabs

Tab (Trendy Asian B*tch)
– You shop at A/X, Bebe and Club Monaco
– You only wear black and will occasionally wear white to “mix it up”
– You do not weigh more than 105 lbs
– You have never paid for dinner at a restaurant in your life
– Platform heels are your favorite
– You are a makeup expert, in fact, you appear completely flawless
– You do not smile in public
– You are the object of desire of all Asian men and you know it
– You smoke
– Your cell phone is completely customized
– On the inside flip of your cell phone is a sticker pic of you and your man
– Somewhere in your purse is a Sanrio item
– You only date Asian and will only date a boy with a nice car
– You are often seen with Rice-boys
– You never travel alone. You are either in the company of other Tabs or your Rice-boy boyfriend

Hoochie Tab
– You are an import car model
– Your boobs are not real
– There are naked pictures of you floating around on the internet somewhere
– Stiletto heels are your favorite
– Your role models are Francine Dee and Kaila Yu
– Your boyfriend is a Gangsta Fob
– You cheat on your boyfriend
– Unlike most Asians, you do not do well in school

Rice-Boy
– You drive an Asian import. Usually a Honda or Acura
– Your souped up car (known as a Rice-ride or Rice-rocket) is unrecognizable from it’s original stock form
– Your exhaust pipe is big enough for your head to fit in
– The spoiler on your car looks like it was made by Boeing
– The interior of your car also looks like it was designed by Boeing
– You always drive like you are racing someone
– You are not afraid of dying in a crash, but you are afraid of speed bumps and parking lot on-ramps
– The only other person besides yourself who can sit in your car is your 105 lbs Tab girlfriend. If anyone else sits in your car, the entire bottom of it will be touching the ground
– Even though your car is a Honda, it goes faster and is worth more than a Lotus Esprit
– If you drive a Civic, your dream car is a Supra. If you drive a Supra, your dream car is a Skyline (which you can never have). Poor Rice-boy.

Fobulous
– You speak perfect English and you are fluent in your native language
– You have Asian friends as well as non-Asian friends
– You listen to Asian pop as well as American music
– You are equally aware of both popular American culture and Asian pop culture
– You are a good dancer
– You date Asian by choice even though you could rock the opposite sex of any other race
– You are a good designer and have superior Html skills
– You have an Apt107 page AND an AA page and the guest books in both are packed
– For you, FOB stands for Fabulous Oriental Being
– You have lots of Asian pride

Pob
– A Filipino fob.
– Words that start with F tend to be pronounced with a P. (Fuck you..Pobarized version: PUCK you)
– FUll accent

“Lets go take some sticker pickiez la! xD Kekezzz”

“Puck You mother pucker!”
by Rebecca Mar 5, 2005 email it

* * *

2. phong

a supersweet, superhot guy

my bf is such a phong!
by muse Aug 7, 2004 email it

The above definitions were found at http://www.urbandictionary.com.

While going on my cousin’s Xanga blog, I noticed that he found a definition of our name. I found it funny. And since it is an dictionary of slang, I thought I’d find what definitions of fob and azn they have.

I already knew what a fob is. It is basically an acronym for Fresh Off the Boat. But I never thought that there would be such a thorough breakdown of the different type of asians there are. I guess I’m just not that asian to realize that.

Looking at the definition of what a fob is, I guess I’m a culmination of those. Maybe I was a fob way back when I was still in diapers. I don’t know.

Looking up azn in the dictionary, I was pleasantly surprised by some of the definitions. I always thought that azn is just a short way of saying asian. I never knew that there was a particular subculture of all things azn. The wannabe black guy who speaks ghetto talk. The dumb people who type in short form with alternating cap words LyKe WrTng DINgs DiS WaY iz LykE SO KeWL. I never even knew that it was an “asian” stereotype. I always thought it was some stupid kids way of thinking that they are cook because they are writing things differently.

I don’t know why I’m even thinking about this. I guess I’m just searching for things to write about or things to talk about.

Lately I have been reminiscing on my childhood and old TVB television shows that I watched. The classics like The Legend of the Condor Heroes, The Return of the Condor Heroes a.k.a The Legendary Couple, and The Heaven Sword and the Dragon Sabre. All three were serials by Louis Cha. I grew up watching these television shows when I was younger and I remember being totally in awe and taken in by the action and the drama. They are classics.

Just recently being back home, I don’t know, for some reason, I’m just reaching back to those old days and my little good Asian, no Chinese roots. I guess it really started when my brother and I went to Powell’s bookstore in Portland and we came across the foreign language section. He told me that he’s been wanting to read these old Chinese books like Journey to the West and the above mentioned books.

I’ve always wanted to read them, but out of sight out of mind. I haven’t seen or thought about those shows in a while. But when hearing my brother wanting to read those, it just brings back memories of the old days. So I tried to track down these books, they aren’t translated yet. Not many are. There are rumblings that there is a new translation of The Legend of the Condor Heroes coming out soon from the Oxford University Press.

I still remember in 2002 when my parents came down to visit me, we found the VCD collections of these shows in Chinatown. My mom looked so excited that they have them collected in a better medium than video cassette. But they were just too expensisve. Doing research on these shows now, especially those VCDs, it is revealed that those were abridged versions of the shows. How disappointing. But it is good to know that the complete uncut The Legend of the Condor Heroes and The Return of the Condor Heroes are out in DVD. I am so tempted to get it. Eventually I will, along with my brother, as a gift for our mom. She will be excited.

As for the books, I don’t know what it is. I am a lover of words. I am a writer. I am a lover of literature. Throughout my life, all I have been exposed to is American and Western European literature, or strictly Anglo literature. I guess with my age and my maturity, I want to venture to other modes of literature. African literature, South American, East Asian, etc. etc.

I guess I’m looking for something new, a new perspective in how to see things or how other see things.

The excitement of life just passes me by yet again as I sit actively watching it run by. I wave to it as I see it off into the unknown future. Going going going going…

Blissful and blessed the union went off without a hitch. Small and warm, cozy and cuddly. The wedding of perfection. My perfection at least.

The intimacy of family and friends, throw a few strangers in there, it’s not just a beerfest but an incestual ménage a trois. Love is in the air, all around and I just swing my fly swatter to just shoo it away from my proximity.

Away away, they go off in their peace. Small and intimate.

Held in their parent’s backyard with the familiarity of home. That’s where love is, home, and no where else.

It was a cryfest from the first word. As I sit in the first row, listening intently to the sacred words that were exchange, the lovely vows of together forever. Tears flowed and they were not mine.

Here’s a change of prose, maybe a mixture. Maybe something new.

It was just nice to be around family again, all family, not just those that I hang out on a regular basis when I’m out here. But family. Family that I never hang out with because I rarely get to see them. Long lost cousins of out of touch, cousins I haven’t seen for years and years, catching up and seeing how they have made a life for themselves.

Catching up again with the long lost sisters that came back for this particular event; their big sister is getting married.

Again, it was a nice lovely wedding. It is a wedding ceremony that I actually wouldn’t mind throwing if I ever get in the marrying mood and eloping is out of the question. Very simple and just….classy. Again, perfection in my book.

They held it in their parents’ backyard. 40 chairs set up and then there was standing room. It was a perfect Washington summer day, temperate and almost clear skies.

They had a judge preside over the ceremony. There wasn’t any father walking the bride down the aisle. Just the bride, Hue, and her sister, Tu, the made of honor. It was just nice.

They didn’t go out and make a big deal out of it. No renting out a space, no enormous amount of guests, just close friends and family.

The Chinese banquet was nice well, even though there wasn’t many people dancing. It was a good mix of Chinese and “American” people. A good mix. But there wasn’t much dancing going on and many of the guests left after the dinner, before the activities were done. But that should be expected in a Chinese wedding.

She had a good time on her wedding day, or at least that’s how I felt, and that is all that should matter.

But it was just good to be back here again, and that was just my first day.

So my week seems pretty packed already, and it always seems packed whenever I come back here. I’m going to make use of these 10 days and actually make it a vacation instead of just coming back and being with family.

Well, here is something regarding me and my doings. Originally, I was to bring a friend up here for the wedding. But things didn’t work out between us for no better reason than that they just didn’t work out.

I told my mom that I was going to bring this friend up with me months and months ago because my friend and I were planning on going to Vancouver together. Of course, word got around, especially during the days of my uncle’s funeral.

But again, we, I, ended things and I went up alone. So, no I came up alone and my family, especially the elders, bugged me about this much talked about friend. Where’s your friend? they would ask continually. This coming from each on of them. I heard you were going to bring your girlfriend back. Where is she? You lied and said you were going to bring your girlfriend back. Liar. I played around with them with my usual flare but what it boils down to as I tell them. We got in a fight and we are now no longer friends.

Things like that just happen. My auntie would just joke around and say, “fight or not, just wait until after you bring her back first, then you can do whatever you want.” Unfortunately things just don’t work that way. They never work that way. T

They just never do. You just have to go on living life in the pace that life goes and can’t expect anything more out of it. Just live.

Lost and never to be found is where I am going. Deep deep into the tunnel of despair; climbing my way to the endless abyss.

I’m back. The depression is back. Back with a force, a vindictive vengeance for shoving it out the window not so long ago. You can’t throw away something that is a part of you, it’ll always come back and haunt you the way it only knows how. Depression, my friend.

Fortune. Destiny. Il Destino. Fate.

It’s the year of the dog this year and apparently it is a horrible year. Dogs and me don’t mix; which I find fitting since I have a lovely dog that just tests my nerves with his bouts of lonely frustration; chewing up my window blinds because of the constant abandonment as I go out and spend the night with friends.

How can I curb this little indiscretion that my dear Pickles throw from time to time?

How indeed. So dogs are trouble.

I went to a Chinese fortuneteller today in Chinatown. It’s been about 4 years since I’ve gone to him. I just wanted to see what changed, if anything.

Not much has changed within in my destiny in the past 4 years. My 27th year is still the year the poses the most problems. A XX bad year for me. Money and wife issues. I don’t have a wife, so in my case women issues.

Here is some new tidbit of information. I am not to marry until 30. If I marry before I’m 30, it’ll end up in divorce. I will have two girlfriends before I’m 30. The best range for me to marry is between 30-38. If anything later than 38, I’ll have no children. There is a possibility for me to have 2-4 kids.

Potential mates.

I am to stay clear away from these three signs. Rat, Ox, and Dog (especially the Dog. They are the XX kind). A good year to marry is 2010. I’ll be 31.

I’ll have a long life. Strong and healthy. Nothing to fear there, but the family history of heart problems. 96. That’s a long time to live. I can’t even imagine another 69 years.

By the age of 40, I will have a second career/business in which I will be successful. It’ll bring forth fortune for me to buy and resale property in which will make me rich.

I’m a fire sign. I guess with a fire sign comes my short temper. It’s a family thing. We all have it.

The only season that works for me is summer. Winter and fall are horrible especially winter. It is the XX variety. My spring is a mixed bag. So maybe with summer here, my luck will turn?

Direction.

Apparently I’m a east/south type of guy and not a west. North is not bad. According to the fortuneteller, when finding a potential partner, I should steer clear of any westerners, i.e. Caucasian and Mexican. Two races that I find the female population to be very attractive. For a good fortunate life, I should stick with the easterners. I guess if the girl is a lovely sweet one, she’ll have to do.

That is my fortune. No different from what he told me 4 years ago and not so different from the fortunetellers that read me when I first came down here. Not so much. No.

* * *

Back to my fortune, back to my life. This despair.

Looking back, this has been a bad year for me. Ever since last December. Things just started to go wrong; since I started to date. I’m not saying that girls were the problem, no, that isn’t the case. I guess it is more the fact that I’m going out more.

Where one relationship ended another one started. Things were going great. They were, but then they didn’t.

There are no fingers to point here. Not one person can take the blame as to why or how things ended between us. We were both to blame and we were both the victim. Our differences in who we are got in the way of things.

Now she was a year of the Dog. Not that I’m saying that the fortune had anything to do with why things ended, it was mere coincidence that she just happens to be from the year of the dog.

She’s a sweet girl. Smart, sassy, and independent. Any guy would be lucky to have her. Sure, these are things that people say to make the other party feel better about themselves, but they are also true. She has a mind for business and she knows what she wants to do. She’s sure of it. With that sureness and with where she came from, she has a certain lifestyle that she likes to live. Who doesn’t?

I have a lifestyle that I love living too and it conflicts with my love for my independence. She pinned me right. I’m too laid back. I just am. I’m not going to disagree with that. I’m just a fairly easygoing guy, just going with the flow, whatever is whatever for I don’t care what it is that we do.

“What do you want to eat?” and I would answer, “I don’t care”. It’s not that I’m indecisive as to what I want to eat. No, that’s never the case. I’m not a picky eater. I can eat anything and will definitely try anything that is offered. I can always find something to eat on the menu, so when I say “I don’t care”, it really means, I don’t care. I don’t care what I eat as long as you enjoy it, as long as I get the pleasure of you company. You take my nonchalant reply as apathy when it is anything but.

That’s how I am. My philosophies of life is that life will just bring you obstacles and things in life and you will have to just go with it and take things on. I don’t seek out life because life is all around and it comes to find me. Things that I experience, I experience because they are in front of me to experience; an opportunity came up or that it is a predicament that happened to me. Life always happens, so I’m not in a rush to go out and to find things to experience because one day or another, life will give me that chance.

Different people are satisfied in different ways. I’m not a big spender on food or clothes. These material matters do not matter to me, because they are all surface. It took me 26 years to find myself. 26 years to find who I am, and it is this very laid back, casual, smart ass prick that sits here before you spilling his soul.

It took me 26 years to finally get comfortable in this yellow skin that is me. I’m going to dress in my usual jeans and t-shirt with flip-flops because that is my particular style that I’ve grown to find to be my style. That’s how I roll, and I’m not going to change the way I dress because someone wants me to.

A person can’t change because they are forced to. Change comes naturally with age and revelation. Change comes with a readiness to change. Change comes when you want to change.

I see there’s no point in me in changing that part of myself and currently any other part of myself because I’m comfortable with it. This is me. This is who I am. I’m not the nicest guy, I’m not the meanest guy. I’m not the sharpest dresser and I am surely not the worst dresser. I’m not the most outgoing person and by far, I am not the most passive guy either. I am just a guy who has figured out for the most part who he is and he finds no rhyme or reason to change. None.

Change comes with age and time and maturity. Again, currently there isn’t anything about me that needs changing. It doesn’t mean that I don’t have any flaws. I’m full of them. My life is full of them, unlike any one else. We are all flawed creatures. That’s what makes this life unique.

My personal demons of trust, my coldness, and definitely my short temper are traits that I could definitely work on. Without a doubt, they are traits that can be rectified, but sometimes they are hard. Many of these issues are instilled in me from culture, upbringing, from family traits and genes. Some other reasons are just from experience. They are a few of my flaws out of the many I do have. Again, I’m not a perfect guy, but I’m not a bad guy. Just an average guy with his personal demons.

That is me, and I’m sure there could me much more about me that I can discuss, but given the forum, I’m sure I’ve addressed those issues already. Again, I just don’t deal with people well because for the most part, I don’t socialize well. I’m a newbie when it comes to socialization and especially to relationships.

Wrong.

Again, not everything can be blamed on a particular person. A relationship involves two. We are both to blame.

Near the end, I didn’t make an effort. I know I didn’t. It was all one sided. She would come out to visit me. Sure I’ve made my trips early on, but she was the one who drove out to see me, after work or after a outing with her friends. She would always stop by. I wish I could do the same, but I couldn’t. I have my responsibilities that prevented me from going out there. I couldn’t leave Pickles on a whim because I wanted to spend time with her. I couldn’t neglect him like that. I was just torn.

Maybe the novelty of the relationship worn out, but I didn’t call as much during the night. I had no problem when I was at work, but not when I was home. Maybe I’m just so use to the life I lived before, the hermit shut in that I am. I’ll be watching a movie or a television show that I’ve invested so much time in. Near the end, it was my writing that I was focused on. With each call, it’ll put me behind of what I need to do, achieving my dream. I couldn’t prioritize her to fit my needs to work. And for that, I was wrong.

She would make the effort, she would care. Again, she was right. I can’t tell her what I want, because I don’t know what I want. I’m torn with my selfishness and what I want for the relationship. I was too much the idealist to let the realist get comfortable.

My stubbornness hinders my actions too. My need to be chivalrous because chivalry is a dying action now a days. I was too stubborn to let her pay for things. I was uncomfortable in that aspect of the relationship because I was taught to pay for dinner, for things. I was taught that way because that was the Chinese way. But the sad thing is I just couldn’t afford the dates. Our luscious dinners and lunches were taking its toll on me. We will fight for the bill and if she wins, bravo, but if I win, I’ll pay hands down because that is what I am supposed to do. I know, it’s an ass backward chauvinistic logic there, but that’s how I was taught. Blame it on society and my socialization.

Maybe it was after our first serious talk that I feel things weren’t going to work out between us. Maybe I was just too tired to deal with another tantrum, or maybe I really did feel that I am wasting my time; no, not wasting my time, but hindering myself from finding the right one that I am destined to be with. I don’t know what, but I’m sure that was the catalyst that started our potential downfall. It was then. We just weren’t the right fit. We were just on different planes and different wavelengths. Our misconnections.

Things weren’t working out. Deep thoughts of forever came into my head and I asked myself, “Could I live with this forever?” and the answer is no. I couldn’t. The relationship took its course in the next few weeks.

I thought that I could stick it through, see it to the end, and that ending was months down the line, but to my surprise it was only weeks. Only weeks. Talks of money and budgeting surfaced and then talks of other things. Trust. Questions keep popping up in my head and I didn’t have an answer that I liked. One final call and one final argument that ended it all. A simple misunderstanding, but if we kept on, all we will have are misunderstandings.

Breaking up is hard to do. For those who have been in it, they should know. I had to end it. I agreed to the relationship and I pushed for it, being naive to think that I can make it work. I had to take responsibility here. I didn’t want her to waste her time with me, because it was just not going to go anywhere. I can’t imagine living my life that way, walking on eggshells or constantly fighting and making up. It wasn’t worth it. Things had to end. They did.

I feel horrible for what I’ve done. I drew away, cold and distant, not giving into her. I had to. It hurts, it stings. My heart aches for what I did, but deep inside I knew that it was the right thing to do. It had to end, because it wasn’t going to go anywhere good. So why waste the other’s time. Why? I just wished that it hadn’t been so rough. I wished that we could have came to terms amicably, but when it comes to break ups, one party has to hurt more than the other and I’m not sure which party is the one that is truly hurting.

There are parts of me that want to call; to work things out and to mend things together so we can try to be friends. But I don’t know if it is possible. I don’t know if it can be mended. Sometimes it is just best to leave things broken and in shreds. It saves time that way.

Nothing to mend.

So I am now in that dark place again. There, not because of what happened, but for what I’ve done. I broke a heart and this time it wasn’t mine.