𝐖𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐈 𝐃𝐨/ 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐈 𝐀𝐦:

► My math teacher in 8th grade wanted all of us to include color in our notes because, apparently, color stimulates the brain and makes you think better (or something like that).  Because I really really REALLY hate colored notes, and I am quite stubborn, I always got an orange marker (I only used orange.  Any other color, I would have thrown a huge fit.) and wrote "color" at the top of every single page.  Other than that, the rest of my notes were in my normal pencil (since it was math).  She accepted it.

► The same math teacher allowed us to write anything we wanted on a note card, which we would be allowed to use on the test.  Because I had absolutely no use for it (I'm good at math, and I already knew all the stuff we were learning.), I simply wrote, "Get 100."  She knew that I was good at math, and she was interested in knowing what I would write.  When she saw what I wrote, she laughed and moved on.

► My locker in 8th grade was odd; sometimes when I put in the code, it wouldn't open.  Therefore, I would go to the classroom directly across from my locker, which was my social studies teacher (social studies is basically history, for those of you who don't know).  Every time I walked in and made eye-contact with him, he sighed and threw the master key to the lockers at me.  At one point, he just showed me where he keeps the keys.  Sometimes, I wouldn't even bother trying to open my locker; I would just go to his room to bother him.

► My 8th grade English teacher always sets up a Secret Santa that includes everyone in 8th grade, including the teachers.  I hate Secret Santa and every game related to it, so when given the option to not participate, I chose not to.  She said I was the only person in the whole entire grade (including teachers) who did not join.  She also told every single 8th grade class that there was one person who did not join.  Every day of the week of Secret Santa, she would give me a cheap gift (I remember getting a bag of chips on one day and some socks another day.  I don't remember the other two gifts I got.  I didn't get a gift on the final day, which is the day everyone hands out the big gifts.) so that I wouldn't feel left out.  A cheesy note always came with them, and they basically had the same message: You should join Secret Santa.  The notes were insulting to me because I chose to not participate.  I did not want to join, and I made that clear by not hesitating to say no.  Yet, she kept giving me notes pressuring me to join.  I would tape the notes to my locker for everyone to see.  My social studies teacher (the one from the former point) asked me if I was being bullied (because the notes sounded kind of rude if you didn't know the context), which I completely appreciated, but I told him what was going on.  He laughed and didn't ask about it again, which was fine.  At least I got people feeling bad for me that she was doing this to me, as that was the whole point of taping the notes to my locker in the first place.

► When I was in 10th grade, my classmates were teasing me about being a VSCO girl because I have a Hydroflask (which was a hand-me-down from my cyclist uncle, so I don't see how that makes me a VSCO girl...).  Frustrated with the comparison, I wrote a whole essay about why I'm not a VSCO girl, which, unfortunately, made them laugh at my dedication and call me The VSCO girl.  The OG VSCO girl.  Thankfully the teasing only lasted for around three months.

► At my dinner table, my family has unofficial designated seats.  We've sat in the same spot ever since I could remember.  (These seating arrangements only apply to dinnertime.  For breakfast and lunch, some people sit in different places.  This is because our schedules do not align until dinnertime.)  However, a few years ago, my older sister has started to move around.  It pissed me off, as I liked the seating arrangement we developed.  Though, the main thing about this point is that my family knows that I only sit in my spot, and I hate when people sit in my spot.  When I was in elementary school and we were having another one of our millions of family gatherings, one of my cousins sat in my spot.  I refused to eat dinner unless he got out of my seat, though the adults didn't figure this out until they couldn't find me among the rest of the kids.

► For me, volume has to be at a multiple of 5.  I hate when it is something like 11 or 17 or whatever.  This is an issue when I'm in the car with my younger sister, who will literally die if she can't listen to music.  She would ask me to turn up the volume, so I would turn it up from 10 to 15.  However, that is too loud for my older sister, who is driving and needs to focus.  So I turn it back down to 10.  But, this is too quiet for my younger sister.  I just tell her to deal with it.

► I abhor spicy food (sorry y'all) with a strong passion.  In my culture's cuisine, there are quite a few dishes that have black pepper balls (I know that some people don't consider pepper to make something spicy, so let's just say that I hate pepper and spicy food.), which sucks for me.  Thankfully, one of the few smells that my dysfunctional nose can detect is spicy ingredients, so I can immediately catch if something is going to destroy my weak tongue.  I can also tell by looking at the color and the ingredients visible to the eye.  This annoys my grandma, who is the main cook in the house.  There was one dish where the meat had one black pepper ball, and once I spotted it, I refused to eat it.  That definitely annoyed my grandma.

► When eating Graham crackers, I always split it by the dotted lines and stack them.  I do not start eating them until I stack them.  That is the same with the Eggo Cinnamon Toast Waffles that my family used to buy (I love those honestly.).  I split it based on the lines engraved into the waffles and stack them.  I do not eat them until all of them are stacked.

► In my culture's dishes, there are many kinds of meat.  My grandma always adds sauce to them (who doesn't???).  However, I hate when the sauce gets on my rice.  Therefore, I push all the rice to one edge of the bowl and all the meat to the other side of the bowl to make sure they don't mix.  I don't know about other people, but this is super weird since you're supposed to eat the meat and the rice together, and the sauce is supposed to add flavor to the rice.  However, I like to eat plain rice (Korean rice for the win), which is why I hate mixing in sauce.  (This rule doesn't apply to dishes that should be mixed, like fried rice, for example.)

► I don't care about sorting music by their vibes (sad, angry, hype, etc.), so in my main playlist, there are all kinds of songs from full anime openings to classical pieces.  I have actually listened to an order that went from a Tchaikovsky song to ATEEZ's "Win" and then to "Glassy Sky" and then to "Stereo Hearts" and—  You get the point.

► I don't like making my bed because I don't want my blanket to touch the ground, but I also don't like when the blanket is all tangled up and messy, so I compromise by dragging the corners to the ends of the bed, but they don't dangle; I roll them up at the ends so they don't hang off the bed, which makes my bed all lumpy.

► A friend of mine asked me if she could borrow my calculator for one class, so I said she could as long as she didn't get it dirty, didn't break it, didn't drop it, didn't mess it up, didn't share it with anyone else, didn't let it out of her sight, etc. etc.  She laughed nervously, turned to my desk partner, and asked if she could borrow her calculator.  I smiled viciously, as I succeeded in keeping her away from using my things, as much as I love her.

► For my freshman theology class, which had participation grades, I calculated how many times I should raise my hand to ask questions and give answers to be considered "participating."  I ended up becoming the teacher's pet and getting the theology award for that year.

► A classmate was bothering me for answers to her study guide, and because doing so would basically be giving her the answers to the test, I decided to tell her very vague answers.  She did not get full points for that question because she has no idea how to dive deeper into explanations while I did.

► I spent several months planning a hang out with my friends, and it used up a lot of my mental energy.  When the day came, it didn't follow the schedule I had in mind, so I got upset and decided not to invite my friends over for a whole year.

► A classmate of mine supports Communism, and because I'm notorious for despising Communism with a passion, I told him to write an essay explaining to me why Communism is so good.  I told him that for every day after the due date, that would be another page he would have to complete.  (If he turned it in a day late, he would need to give me 51 pages because the minimum was 50 pages.  If he turned it in 10 days late, that would be 60 pages, etc. etc.)  I counted over 100 days.  He eventually turned it in, but it was one page.  I had long given up on him, so I didn't care anymore, but all I know is that I won the argument.

► For one of my history projects, my partner and I had to give information about the Asian country we were researching and imperialism in said country.  The country we chose was the country my family came from, so I went all out in talking about it.  We got a 98 on it because it went overtime, which was entirely my fault.  My partner didn't blame me, but I beat myself up about it for a few days because we could've gotten 100.  (The reason why this upset me so much is because my sophomore history teacher barely ever gives 100 on essays and projects, and that was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be one of the few people to get a 100 on one of her projects.)

► A teacher at my old school was in charge of enforcing school rules and such, and one of the rules was that only seniors could sit outside of the cafeteria for lunch.  I ignored this rule and sat with my senior sister and her friends.  I've been stopped by him many times, but they weren't to tell me to go back to the cafeteria; they were to ask who I was sitting with to make sure there was no one sitting outside when they shouldn't be.  An example of me escaping the system is when my sister, her friend, her friend's brother (who is in my grade), and I were sitting outside.  The teacher found us outside and told the brother that he wasn't allowed to eat outside.  The teacher didn't say anything to me.  The brother looked at me, betrayed, and sadly waddled back to the cafeteria while I, basking in freedom, remained outside and stayed with my friends.

► I find that staring into nothing and thinking about a billion things at once is more entertaining than talking to someone else sometimes.

► I hate sharing straws with people, even my family, so I would get a napkin, wipe the tip and wipe the inside of the tip before drinking from a shared straw.

► Up until recently, I would only drink milk if it was 2% milk and mixed with chocolate syrup, but there had to be 20 swirls of chocolate syrup stirred into the milk for it to be the perfect flavor.  (By swirls, I mean like making a full rotation of a circle in the cup is one swirl, and just doing that 20 times.  Yes, I counted.)

► I often reply to things with "K."  In my ranking of how to acceptably say "okay," there are 4 ranks:

Okay/ okay

K

'kay

Ok/ ok/ OK

The reason for the rankings is that the first three are spelled properly, and the bottom rank is just absolutely disgusting.  (I made a grammar chapter about this in my grammar tips book, so check that out if you want a better explanation.)  I use "K" because it is the most efficient one to use, rather than typing out all of "okay."  When I use it, I don't mean it in a condescending, rude way.  It's actually good if I respond to something with "K."  (I had a conversation with one of my friends about the difference between my "K" responses and my "Okay" responses.  If you're curious, let me know, and I'll post it in my Basket of Oranges book.)

► Yeah, that's all I can think of for now.