skeleton in the closet? please god let it be asian

It’s no secret that my Mother hates that I live in Los Angeles and like any proper New Yorker believes the amount of sunshine, plastic and pastels I am exposed to on a daily basis will eventually result in:

  1. Scientology (I have been jumping on my couch a lot lately)
  2. a set of Double Ds (the fun bag version not the batteries)
  3. reality show fame (the bad Chaotic kind – not the uplifting kind like The Real Housewives of Orange County)

My Mom and I often play the game where she sends me articles documenting the fabulousness that is NYC:

and I retaliate by texting pictures of LA sunshine:

MOM: You look lovely although a little cult-like. Is there a messiah leader behind you?

ME: How did you guess? I am all peace and love and nudity over here. Next week we are going to braid each other’s hair.

ME: Last photo only because I look Asian:

I have always wanted to be Asian like my Japanese cousins who grew up with wall-to-wall white carpeting – which makes you perfect. We had brown carpeting which makes you roll around the house on a wooden skate board aka the space ship (hence my nickname Space Cadet). My Japanese cousins have exotic names, names that say they will do great things…I got stuck with Tracy which in case you didn’t know doesn’t sound Asian at all.

MOM: uhm I think we need to talk about the night I spent in Chinatown while your father was at a race…I had a very nice time.

So what’s a girl to do when paternity comes into question? You head over to myheritage.com for a systems check using facial recognition.

The result: I am a 97% match to Matsushima Nanako.

Need further proof? You can watch me morph into Ms. Nanako by clicking HERE.

Now that I have evidence that either my mom gets around or I have a super hero powered brain – I am flummoxed.

I have wanted to be many different things – on my ninth birthday I made people call me Tina in honor of the goddess that is Tina “Private Dancer” Turner.

Free parenting tip: “Private Dancer” is totally an appropriate song to sing when one is entering her tween years.

Then I went through the Jerry Orbach stage, but that is a no brainer, who hasn’t wanted to be Jerry Orbach at least once in their life?

Recently I wanted to take form as Gloria Steinem’s tramp stamp. (Please see her interview in Time where she stated for her 70th birthday she was going to get a tramp stamp – I wanna be that stamp.)

…but through out the years there has been one constant – I have always wanted to be Asian.

Have I finally willed myself Asian or did my mom make the ultimate sacrifice? I wouldn’t put  it past her because my mom is awesome like that. Although she is still cagey about the whole thing:

MOM: Hey, rather than all the work of being a Tiger Mom – just get me some Asian genes into the mix was my thinking. Well, also thinking that I could handle eight Singapore Slings…

True, us Lane women are known to be light weights when it comes to liquor especially exotic blends.

Clearly the paternity debate will go on until I can swab the inside of my father’s cheek, so for now I’d like to say it’s not easy being a mom, especially when you got yourself a kid that pushes the boundary of ordinary into the odd.  Happy Mother’s Day to my mom – who allows me to be as weird and inappropriate as humanly possible. I am so glad I chose you.

*I’m the blonde Asian looking kid on the right.

8 thoughts on “skeleton in the closet? please god let it be asian

  1. Me: Hey mom, Tracy posted a new blog entry!
    (I dutifully read it to her dramatic style)
    Mom: (contemplatingly) Hmmm. Maybe I should find her a nice Asian fellow…

  2. thanks Tracy, for sharing, once again. as usual, not sure exactly why…… but I’m glad you did. You WILL be famous. Once you sell enough books you can get the expensive surgery necessary to get the asian on the inside, stitched to the outside. Then we can call you Frankenasian. Another reason to keep writing.

  3. I always wanted to be white! I always wanted to blend in at all the country clubs. Being a Twinkie in rye was not easy. I always wanted to date the white girl. But it never happened. It was always lonely.

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