The future Mr. and Mrs. Ashbough-Wong went off to have dinner at their super fancy hotel and celebrate their engagement with champagne. They spent the rest of their weekend sleeping, getting massages, and lounging by the pool. They stared into each other’s eyes, cocooned in unassailable romantic mush.
A piece of golden stationery and a Honda Civic that smelled of cat pee led me to the door of a room in a fancy hotel. I pushed the door open. Andy, my Chinese-American boyfriend, stood in the center of the room, holding a rose. My nervous eyes jumped around the room. Huge bed, already turned down, decorated by a box of See’s truffles. The man knew me well. (One dinner mint on a pillow isn’t even an appetizer!) The room was bigger than my apartment. The furniture was mahogany. The floors were marble.
Thankfully, there was no sign of a square jewelry box. Continue reading Skydiving (#22)
It was Game Night with Andy’s aunt, uncle, and cousins. Technically, Auntie and Uncle weren’t involved in the gaming. (Well, this sort of gaming. I learned about their love affair with Las Vegas later.) Continue reading Taboo, or, Why a Chinese Math Stereotype Exists (#18)