The "Traditional" Christmas

Hello and Merry Christmas/Hanukkah/Solstice/Festivus/Kwanza/etc., my dear hyper-cephalized companions!

Before we jump in, I'd like to announce that Facebook glitched on me a few days ago and made my updates so that only I could see them, which means you guys probably missed out on a couple posts on here if you're not subscribed through Blogger.  Please feel free to get caught up; I'd appreciate it.

On to the holiday cheer!

So I'm a filthy half-breed Asian with lots of Spanish blood thrown in, hence my nickname MFB--"my favorite biracial".  The Chinese side of my family is kind of...well...strange.  You see, my grandfather ("Gung") is a retired Southern Baptist preacher who went to seminary in Texas, but looks like Mr. Miyagi from the Karate Kid.  The rest of my Chinese family is also highly religious to the point of denying my late gay uncle Lloyd into their home with his boyfriend during the holidays.  My immediate family, on the other hand, is incredibly agnostic, "don't give a flying fuck", or straight up atheist like I am.  My grandmother ("Pau") is strangely jaded by her own mortality, and jokes about how she's going to be "moving in soon" to the place she wants her ashes buried.  I'm surprised she hasn't slapped a Santa hat onto my uncle Lloyd's urn, to be honest.  Dad's also a fat, impatient Spaniard with OCD cleaning tendencies, so as you can imagine, Christmas is interesting.  Let me share with you a few traditions...

The Christmas Story
Reading the Christmas story from the Bible really isn't that odd of a tradition, but it's awkward as hell when there are a grand total of 3 people in your family who even mildly believe in Baby Zombie Jeebus.  My sister dutifully reads the story every year from the rice-paper thin pages of my grandfather's highlighted Christian Manifesto, and the rest of us do our best to look engaged and not fall into the food comas that multiple bowls of my mom's crack-like chili warrant.  Pau also insists on taking a picture of my sister reading every year, and all I can say is that I'm glad it's not me.  I think if I had a picture of me holding a Bible, I might just probably most likely burst into flames.  Then Gung makes us bust out the Christmas carols, I sing "O Holy Night" even though I'm an alto, and we all take part in singing halfheartedly like a "Happy Birthday" chorus for someone who dropped dog shit at our door.        

They contain joy and wonder.

Red Envelopes
This tradition is quite possibly the most happy and joyous occasion in my family.  The coming of my grandparents also signals the spontaneous neogenesis of li-see envelopes.  They're red, they're gaudy, and they ALWAYS carry money in them.  The thing is that they come from relatives that I haven't seen in years, too, so they are socially obligated by weird, obscure Chinese law to include at least $20.  Which is awesome.


Psycho Aunt's Diet
Let's add to the chaos here.  My aunt Cathy is fucking insane.  I shit you not, insane.  She seems to pick a new religion every two years, lived with her son when he moved to New York TO GO TO COLLEGE, and treats her husband like he's 10 years old.  Not only that, but she seems to discover a new allergy every few weeks.  This woman claims to be allergic to: sugar, gluten, lactose, and UV radiation.  She also doesn't eat red meat, demands organic/grass-fed/free-range, and her latest religion is Buddhism, so she must adhere to any dietary restrictions thereof.  In other words, she is impossible to feed unless you want to spend a fortune and simultaneously piss everyone off.  Fun times.


The Uncle Situation
My uncle Ron is kind of a jerk.  He's married to my blind aunt Connie, so we're kind of obligated to let him through the door, but for the last few years, we've been straight-up telling him and his wife to stay in California.  He puts his BARE FEET with creepy-ass webbed toes on our counters, leaves dirty dishes everywhere, never helps with cooking/groceries, and treats us like we're his maids.  He's also under the impression that because he teaches special ed, he can also parent.  He and I have ended up in screaming cussing fights since I discovered that I really didn't have to take any of his bullshit at the ripe old age of 12.  Mom, auntie Connie, and Pau always end up super upset with him, and he usually ends up pissed off enough to blow off my grandmother's birthday dinner on New Years Eve.  Jerk.


MASSIVE Chinese Cluster-Fuck

So you're uncle...uh...uh...umm...HEY AREN'T THESE COOKIES GREAT?!

The above situation normally occurs if we're in San Francisco, where most of my Chinese family congregates with members of their own kind.  We go to my aunt Rachel and paraplegic uncle Alan's house, and step into a fucking sea of Asians.  I shit you not, I think they breed them in there because there is always some obscure distant relative that I never met who is there.  They chatter for HOURS in Mandarin and Cantonese, and all my dad and my siblings can do is sit on the couch, eat mixed nuts, smile, and nod.  My interactions pretty much go on a script:

Grandma: Becca, I want you to meet aunt/uncle (insert name here).  They know us/your mom from (insert incredibly distant relationship here).

Me: Oh hi!  [Smile broadly, scoop under to hug person who is approximately a foot and a half shorter than self]

Relative: [Whispers "leyau-nah" to my grandmother, which means "beautiful girl"]  Hi hi hi!  You look jus' li' mah-mah!  I watch her when she babeeeyyyy.  You so tall!  You so pletty!  But...you so skinny hahaha.  You eat some-ting.  Here, li-see.

Grandma: [steps in and saves my confused half-breed ass] Daw-je!  Daw-je!  ("Thank you for the gift!")

Story of my life, for serious.  
.So that's Christmas for my family.  Remember, it could always be weirder.

Happy holidays, dweebs <3