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)
When Andy took me to Hawaii for a friend’s wedding, I figured the wedding would be the worst part. I am not a fan of weddings. And then I met Andy’s parents (see posts 2, 3, and 4).
Andy’s parents were not invited to the wedding. Hallelujah!
My parents weren’t the ones getting married. Double Hallelujah!
There would be dancing at the wedding, and I had a partner. I was, for once, Team Wedding. Continue reading Hair-curling Tales of the Red Envelope (#5)
