Dear Diary: Day 03 | "Interesting" Facts and Embarrassing Stories

Share some odd or interesting facts about yourself & Sharing is caring! Blog about an embarrassing story or secret.

Well, before I start, let me be completely honest with you guys. If there was a Guinness World Record for "Least Interesting Yet Somehow Most Embarrassing Existence in the World", I would set another world record by not only winning that title, but maintaining it for 20 years. Okay, now that we've gotten that outta the way, we can get this show on the road. Here are some "interesting" facts and semi-secret, embarrassing stories about me.

1. I'm allergic to cats.

Most people try to tell me that it's not the cats I'm allergic to, but the fur, which is crazy cause how can you, aka a stranger, tell me what I am and am not allergic to? Here's a tidbit for you: I found out about this by having an allergic reaction to my friend's hairless cat, Nigel the Cat. That's right, folks, he was bald! This didn't stop me from bringing a stray kitty home and making it a cardboard box home with a fluffy pillow shortly after, though. I had another reaction, had to call my mom, who was at work, and had to put the kitty back outside. I was terribly swollen, itchy, and heartbroken, as you can probably imagine. Now, if I see a cat on the same sidewalk as me, I walk across the street and avoid it completely. At least I can never be a crazy cat lady, which is a great relief.

2. My mom told people I had black eyes.

Long story short, my mom thought my dark brown eyes were black, which is what she told pretty much everybody and their garden plants, until I was a few years old and my doctor told her that my eyes were, in fact, dark brown. She was disappointed.

3. For the longest time, my nickname was "Musu", as in spam musubi.

When I was born, my skin was super white, my hair was super black, and my lips were super red. My parents thought their little cherub that popped out with a full head of hair looked like Snow White, but of course, the name that stuck was the one my uncle came up with: Musu. He apparently likened my white skin to rice, my black hair to nori, and my red lips to spam, and thus, Musu was born! This was no case of sugar, spice, and everything nice, unfortunately. Of course, it pissed my dad off to no end to hear me being called Musu, but I loved it. Nobody calls me that anymore, though. I no longer look like a spam musubi or Snow White, I guess. There went my potential Halloween costumes.

4. Other than some distant ancestor, I'm the only Chinese person in my family.

It's debatable whether or not I am actually Chinese, but my birth certificate says so. It proudly states that I am Korean, Native Hawaiian, Chinese, Caucasian, and Japanese. Unfortunately, the only other person in my family who also has Chinese on their birth certificate is some really distant ancestor. My grandma basically forced my parents to put Chinese on my birth certificate because she honestly believed we were Chinese, and she was still bitter about the fact that they didn't put Chinese on my brother's birth certificate, so of course lil ole me had to be the one to have it. She later found out that we are not Chinese. I remember thinking I was adopted or something when I first found my birth certificate when I was, like, 6 or 7 because I knew my parents weren't Chinese. You never know, though, I just might be Chinese.

5. I fractured my left forearm in high school, and only my friends know the full story.

Basically, I was spending the day at my friend's house with a bunch of other friends. We started messing around with one of those giant yoga ball things, and we were being a bunch of teenage idiots, to be honest. I was smaller than everyone else (weight wise), only about 90-95 lbs. We were, like, running and jumping into each other with the ball. The first time winded me, but the second time really sent me flying, and next thing I knew, my arm was in massive pain. Everybody was laughing, and I didn't say a thing. I just got back up, sat around a bit, and went home. I didn't tell my parents, and I didn't sleep all night because I couldn't bend or extend my arm (at my elbow), nor could I twist my forearm. I waited till the next morning to say anything, and all I could tell them was, "I was running around on the wet grass yesterday and slipped. I guess I landed weird." That statement is all my parents know to this day, and only the friends who had been at the house know what happened, and that's the story of how I ended up with a brace for my left arm. I was supposed to wear a sling for my elbow, but eh.

Whelp, that's all I could think of for this topic. If you couldn't tell, the first four were more secret stories and "interesting" facts about me, and the last one was more of an embarrassing secret than anything. It's embarrassing because I fractured my arm over something completely idiotic and came up with an equally idiotic lie to tell my parents and doctor.

Anyways, thanks for reading!