When Andy stayed with my family the Christmas before we got married, he was shocked by how late my Baby Sister came home. She was my last sibling in high school. Her boyfriend dropped her off about 1:31 AM. We, of course, were still awake, thanks to the three-hour time difference between LA and New Hampshire. Andy strained chicken stock while I frosted cream cheese sugar cookies. Baby Sister told us good-night and helped herself to a cookie on the way upstairs.
My new in-laws, Sunny and Jay, insisted on a Chinese Wedding Banquet a month after our traditionally western wedding. They took us to beta test the restaurant two days before the banquet. It went…poorly.
Sunny and Jay found a new banquet location the very next day. As neither in-law sought my opinion on anything ever, I was shocked when Jay sat down next to me with a menu.
My father had a terrible temper. When he unloaded a barrage of profanity at the washing machine, my siblings and I fled. God forbid his gaze landed on you when he was pissed – you could easily be the next target. On the other hand, you couldn’t go completely out of earshot. If you did, and the man needed a hammer or wrench or rag, and you weren’t there to supply it, you’d definitely get hit with the next blast of fury. Continue reading Lights Out (#99)
Chopsticks never made any sense to me. Eating rice with them is a special kind of torture. I’d corner a pile of rice on my plate, smoosh it together with chopsticks, and lose half the pile on the way to my mouth. The futility of eating rice with chopsticks was inversely proportional to the size of the rice pile; the smaller the pile, the harder it was to get a few grains to your mouth. There were times when I’d manage to get two grains of rice in my mouth. This is fantastic for dieting, but lousy for sustenance. Continue reading Clash of the Utensils (#78)
I love cake. Okay, I love all baked goods, but cake is the best. It was my favorite part of all my parents’ weddings. It’s STILL my favorite part of every wedding. I do enjoy the dancing now that I bring my own partner, but while I’m dancing with Andy, I’m totally eyeing that four-tiered, fabulous, elaborate, fondant-covered wedding cake in the corner. Continue reading A Question of Cake (#49)
Not long after my Chinese-American fiancé proposed, I caught a nasty cold. I am sure it had nothing to do with an engagement made stressful by stubborn Chinese parents. Continue reading Bitter Tea (#28)