Was It Just Me?

You’ve read this blog.  And no I’m not high when I write my posts (yes, been asked this – you know who you are).  I’m just unconventional perhaps.  I must be because all that’s ‘conventional’ is plain dead uncomfortable around me (yes, been shown this – you know who you are). 

As a child I assumed my experiences growing up were ‘normal’.  But judging by the outside world’s reaction to the adult finished product, I’m starting to suspect not.  

Help me out people.  Was it just me?  I need to know:        

Was it just me … who was forced to wear a traditional bright gold embroidered imperial style padded Chinese jacket for her grade 4 primary school photo, looking like some kind of under-aged warlord midget pimp amongst a bunch of Aussie kids in shorts and t-shirts?  

Was it just me … who had a scheduled ear cleaning session with my father every month where he shone the blinding light from a lamp into my ear like the ear was being interrogated?  And then with an actual ear cleaning stick (they exist – purchased from the Asian grocers, thin with a mini scoop at the end), attempt to dislodge and remove stubborn bits of ear wax which usually turned out to be actual parts of my inner ear?

Was it just me … who was told by her mother that I shot out of her one day while she was on the toilet and looked down to see something random floating in the bowl with a pair of eyes?  Clearly the stalk in the sky explanation couldn’t convey my value as an addition to the family as much as this particular version of events.  

Was it just me … who was forced to fast for 24 hours before we went to an all you can eat buffet restaurant in order to ‘build up the hunger’ and therefore get our money’s worth?

Was it just me … who was then restricted from picking non-protein items and potatoes from the all you can eat buffet because they wasted stomach space reserved for the ‘expensiveful’ offerings – ‘Why eat 3 bowl chips, eat 18kg prawn, we pay saaame pliiicce’.         

Was it just me … who asked my mother for a perm to revamp my generic poker straight oriental hair?  Only to be taken to the ‘local hairdresser’ of my aunty’s garage to be given a perm on purely just my fringe? (my ‘bangs’ for the North American crew). I wanted to go from chinky to kinky.  I stayed chinky except now I had a new mini afro sprouting from my forehead.  Where’s that can of Soul Glo when you really need it?   

Was it just me who … was told by her father that 3 fried eggs piled on top of one another was called ‘quiche’, toast spread with ketchup was called ‘pizza’, and boiled lettuce with soya sauce was called ‘salad’.   Assimilation is his middle name.   Asian ‘fusion’ cuisine is his game.

But chill – perhaps it’s possible that despite it all (and oh there’s so much more … so so much more), it can be argued that I have ended up stable, demure and respectable.  Always composed.  Always refined.  Never out of control.  Never caught off guard.  ‘Only god can judge me’ – Tupac Shakur.



  1. Eve i wanna meet your family. My “was it just me” stories are more depressing than funny.

    was it just me that your mother force fed you food till at times you vomited because “you are getting too lean”.

    Was it just me that was told to pick a branch form a tree outside and got a bollocking to remember, because i couldn’t just get a beating i had to pick what i was going to get hit with.

    Was it just me, that their mum thought it was a good idea to cut my hair herself and fucked my shit up so badly that i had to go bald cos anything else would make me look like Michael J Fox had tried to give me a haircut.

    etc etc


  2. E – Another classic! However I’m gonna pull you up on a couple of points if I may… it can be argued that I have ended up stable, demure and respectable. Always composed. Always refined. Never out of control. Never caught off guard – your words…The dictonary defines demure as follows: Modest and reserved in manner or behavior. 2. Affectedly shy, modest, or reserved…therefore “demure” is not a word I (or anyone else who knows you) would use to describe you…and I refer to your blog – “It’s only noble…” – clearly something caught you off guard at some point recently…lastly – re: “Never out of control” – Shame on you if that is the case – being out of control every once in awhile is good for you. It recharges and helps you re-focus…if it doesn’t kill you that is! xx


  3. I used to lie awake at night and wonder when my real family was coming for me so I can understand a little about where you’re coming from. I will have to remember that tip about the buffet … don’t fill up on filler.


  4. I think your family is more odd than misunderstood, but really, you’ve turned out fine! Just remember to perm your frontal mullet once a month and we’ll still be friends…


  5. I’m afraid to say, YES, it was just YOU.
    May I suggest that you keep blogging your childhood memoirs, not only does it help you deal with your deeply repressed psychological issues, it may also help your readers to understand why in fact you are still wearing that same traditional bright gold embroidered imperial style padded Chinese jacket to the Crown Casino buffet (on a nightly basis).

    Peace out crazy lady!


  6. Excellent blog maam. I was initially looking for kinky grandma type large breasted asian anime type porn and was mildly disappointed when I ended up at this site as you do not look as old as I had hoped (I guess see previous archive blogs). But the more that I have been reading your blogs it is clear that you are wise beyond your years which fortunately makes up for the grandma type thing for me.

    In terms of your asian humiliation quiz test I am chinese from the outer south eastern suburbs of Melbourne and grew up in the 80s and 90s so I thought I will try and help you out.

    1. In terms of being forced to turn up at school in an oriental type padded shiny jacket by your parents… check. Unfortunately I never looked like an underage warlord pimp. More like a sweaty skinny asian boy wearing a shiny jacket on a 30+ degree day. If only I had such cred of looking like an underage warlord pimp when kicking it back in grade 4 I would have turned out so much more gangsta.

    2. Yes it is gross and I still have an asian style scooper thingy. I have been scooping bits out of my inner year for a good thirty years now… I have to keep going until the remaining loose bits of my ear drum stop rattling in my ear it just those last bits of bone…

    3. Sorry Evmeister that is seriously fvcked up so I can’t help you out there. That and the tea towel bather story thing… frankly no one can compete with that…that seriously…

    4 & 5. That is just good old fashioned chinese family style home economic advice… So that your typical 80s early 90s asian style parents can save on food bills to buy a really cool box shaped bullet proof 80s styled maroon volvo so they could show off to other asian parents and say hey look at my cool maroon boxed shaped volvo… we are more 80s early 90s stereotypically asian than you and look my son/daughter is smart and will study law or medicine and takes piano lessons, has asthma and suffers from hayfever etc etc etc.

    I suppose at the end of the day we are all the sum of our unique experiences which conspire to make us who we are. You are hilarious Evmeister (and edgy and cool of course) and the world is a better place for it.


    • Welcome K! Apologies for luring you here only to find no pics of sweaty geriatric oriental crevices. But deep thanks for the insights into your own experiences with the CCCCCC (Cringy Ching Chong Cheapo official Code of Conduct). Your comments read like a blog themselves and in u I see a soul brother – make sure to say hi in the buffet line if we ever meet – as u watch me stock food into plastic containers for home (as prescribed by section 4, para (a) of the Code) – E xx


  7. Wow, that is an impressive list of cringe worthy life events. It brings to mind a few cringe worthy events of my own childhood… but they simply pale into insignificance beside yours.
    I can’t wait to scar my own child in the same way. After reading your blog, I now realise that I am only limited by my imagination.


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