We're leaving tomorrow to visit Astrid's family for Christmas. She asked me the other day if I'm looking forward to it, and the answer is yes, with the caveat that on some level I'm pretty terrified, too. Astrid's parents have been really sweet to me, considering I'm a Jewish dyke and I'm sleeping with their daughter (who, naturally, is just going through a phase or is disappointed with men or is being seduced by the sinful San Franciscan lifestyle). Her dad and her brother are both men of few words, and even little miss chatty cathy me finds it hard to break on through. Her mom has been genuinely kind to me, and I have no rational reason to think that each subsequent visit won't get better and better. But it's weird, is all. At least her four year-old nephew likes to play zombies with me!
It's weird spending time with anybody else's family, really. Even my idiosyncratic Jewish liberal family in the 'burbs becomes an isolated culture in and of itself: I'm sure it's daunting to be an outsider there when we're all talking over each other in a frenetic storm of popculture/smalltalk/obsessive details of family esoteria. Sigh. Oh, and, we haven't bought any xmas gifts yet. There's that, too.
Merry whatever you celebrate, folks!
Peace and Bliss in the New Year!
xo
Bree
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