Halfie

I guess growing up in America has made me a little too white-washed. In the past week, I've been asked twice if I'm a halfie - by halfie I mean half asian, half white. I can't figure out why people think so, in fact, it's a little upsetting since I feel like, if anything, I seem a little more fobby after being in China all summer. My friends can't pinpoint what makes me look distinctly not-Chinese. It's not just here either. When I was in China, practically every talkative cab driver asked me if I was from Japan or Korea, or something along those lines.
I guess I shouldn't let it bother me. The guy who asked me today said, "It's a good thing." His reason for asking me was because my hair's really black. All of my cousins have really black hair, too, so I thought that was a little odd for a reason. Another friend said it's my eyes, but my mum tells me I have very nice, Chinese almond-shaped eyes. I guess I just have a wierd combination of features. Poo. Mom said that when she was in college in Texas, she was regularly mistakened for hispanic. In fact, if we go to Manhattan, very often some poor tourist will start speaking to her in fast Spanish and she won't even know what language they're speaking. Well, since people think Mom is hispanic, maybe I look half hispanic...?
Maybe I should just say, "Yes, yes I am," because, after all, with family history who knows?