My Chinese-American husband grew up in Hawaii, then moved to Los Angeles. Not only did he not care about different seasons, I’m not even sure he knew what they were until I took him to New Hampshire and Washington D.C.
His immigrant family wasn’t big on holidays, either, whether American or Chinese. The man didn’t even have a Christmas stocking until I gave him one. Continue reading Over the Moon (#147)
I love this time of year. I always have, even when it meant summer was over and school was starting. Or maybe it was because summer was over and school was starting. Summer in D.C. is hideous. 90-100 degrees, with 95% humidity. The city feels like a swamp, possibly because it was built on a swamp. (Part of Thomas Jefferson’s master plan to keep the central government from governing as much a possible. Pre-Presidential Jefferson would be considered a Libertarian by today’s standards.) Continue reading Seasonal Differences (#85)
When I met my Chinese-American fiancé, he already had a nice little townhouse near the beach in Los Angeles. He had a very nice muscle car. He’d clearly spent a lot of money on dance lessons. After I met him, he spent even more money on dancing. He gave me expensive presents, including a platinum and diamond engagement ring. Until I met his parents, I had no idea he came from an exceptionally frugal family. Continue reading Andy Drives a Hard Bargain (#35)