The story of me...and how I came to be.

When I was a few days old, I was abandoned by a river in Seoul, Korea. (boo sad) Yes, this technically means that I am Korean, but I really don't feel it. I have an Italian mother and a Polish/Russian father. Anyway, I was found by a man walking on the banks of the river wrapped in newspaper with a bottle, diaper, and squeak toy. He brought me, bottle, diaper, and squeak toy to the police station in Seoul, leaving me on the doorstep. I was soon discovered and brought inside where a report was written up. They gave me a Korean name because I didn't have a name. It is Yoo Soo Kang. Strange, don't you think? Afterwards, I was checked up at the local Saint Mary's hospital and then placed in a foster home and put up for adoption. (Active Time Event!) Meanwhile, in the Bronx, NY, these two people, one Italian, the other Polish and Russian, were married and were wondering about adopting a child. They went to an adoption agency (Spence Chapin) and after weeks of flipping through pictures, they picked little ole' asian me! Soon thereafter, when I was 6 months old, I was shipped Fed Ex ... no, I mean I was flown to JFK airport in NY to my new parents!!

To answer all of your questions in advanced:
No, this is not a tender issue for me (obviously, since it is posted freely on a web page).
No, I have never wondered who my actual parents were (are).
No, I don't intend on going to Korea to find them...and how would we communicate if I did?
Yes, I like the martial arts.
No, I don't like fish!
No, I have never used the phrase "You're not my real mother/father" to my parents.
No, surprisingly, the majority of my friends are not asian. They are caucasian.
No, I haven't dated an Asian man.
Yes, I think I'm white, but I think i'm at an advantage by being Asian. I'm different because of my american/italian upbringing. I have a "white personality" whatever that means.
No, I don't care about being adopted. I've known for as long as I can remember. It doesn't really feel any different.

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