acceptance pending

Hi followers!

Just wanted to say thanks for reading this story. (If you haven’t read the whole thing, you can read it here. If you didn’t realize it was fictional, um, oops, sorry. One of the themes is supposed to be the kind of blurriness between fiction and reality, but zero idea about if that came across.)

I started writing this in July 2013, which was the summer before my senior year. I wrote it at least six times, in at least three different ways. It started off as a murder mystery (this story, not my senior year), I scrapped that part of it because it was way convoluted, and a lot of the cool things that could have happened couldn’t happen organically, but I’m sort of satisfied with the end product, given that I was just like “F it, I don’t want to think about this story anymore, I just want it out there.” 

I hope you all enjoyed it. If I ever write anything of, like, real significance, I’ll post it here? Or let y’all know somehow? Probably? 

Again, thanks for all the kindness and support!

Sincerely,

Thanks for reading! Just wanted to respond to this. (Not as Moira, by the way.)

Definitely 100% fictional. Or like 97% fictional. 

I applied to college two years ago, and the “AP Group” is based in part on some of my classmates at the time.

Like Moira, I’m half-Asian, used to work in a Chinese restaurant, have parents who are not married (divorced), and can’t speak a lick of Mandarin. 

Unlike Moira, my dad is not a secret, I was not abandoned, I was not my high school’s valedictorian, and the closest I got to being in a school play was pit orchestra.

Much like Moira, I tend to find much more comfort in fiction than real life. 

my present to myself this christmas is this:

i’m letting myself out of my box and getting off of tumblr.

which means talking to people in real life about real things, even if i’m afraid that i’ll disappoint them.

which means unlocking my heart to the people that i love and that want to love me, even if one or both of those things could change.

which means being myself, whoever that is, even if i’m afraid i’m not good enough.

which means realizing that i am good enough.

this is my christmas present to myself, 

it’s hard to tell because it’s winter break and it’s not like anybody is messaging me like “wtf moira” because we’re in high school and we’d rather talk behind each other’s backs than risk confrontation, but who knows if they’ve read it? and more importantly, who cares? (me. still. but i’m trying.)

thanks to @studying-my-life-away for tagging me.

now i have to find five facts that i haven’t already told everyone on the internet.

1) i call my mom “mama-san” even though she hates it and thinks it makes her sound like she runs a brothel. i don’t really know why i do it. i think the joke is that i’m not asian enough to even get that right. 

2) i’m half-chinese and half-white and very uncomfortable about my appearance, because i’m tall and freckly and large-nosed and people ask me “what are you?” all the time. when i was a kid, i’d answer with, “i’m a human!” and my mom thought that was so adorable until she realized that i meant, “...as opposed to a giant.” so she sat me down and said, “listen, they’re not questioning your humanity...”

3) we had a cat when i was six. he ran away. i named him stitch.

4) i’m afraid of calling people “my best friend” because i don’t want them to hear it and go “oh my god, you must be pathetic, i don’t even like you.” but i’m trying to be better. evidence: friend1 is my best friend. 

5) i didn’t get into stanford, but i’m okay with it. 

me: hey.

me: i'm sorry about everything i said.

me: and i'll apologize for real in person.

i’ve been awaiting you.

go ahead, read it all. 

ready the tar and feathers.

i’ll be here, waiting

everyone’s going to know that my dad’s alive and they’re going to know that he left us and they’re going to know that i lied about it, but my mom saw me act for the first time and said i did a good job.

they’re going to know that i don’t know about stanford, but grasshopper was there and so was his mom and they gave me flowers and my bio teacher said, “you know he dragged me here every night because he was so sure you’d be here?” and he didn’t even look ashamed.