I like Christmas. It's one of those celebrations when I don't have to do anything.
I mean, I'm half-Chinese, right? So aside from Hari Raya Aidilfitri, where I would be part of a dysfunctional team (my family) to host and serve and feed over 400 people, there's also Chinese New Year.
Chinese New Years mean visiting four houses - uncles and aunts. My grandfather passed away more than 10 years ago, I think.
So Rayas and Chinese New Years, I'll be fucking busy. With my family. My family are pain-worshippers, to a degree.
If you're not doing at least two things at the same time, you're a useless bastard. Every Raya, I used to be stirring something in the wok, cleaning the floor (which will get greasy anyway) as well as start up fires on two other portable charcoal stoves.
That's why we all left home at 12. All my siblings left at 12 years old. Made sure we got good enough results to be accepted somewhere.
Every Chinese New Year, I'd be missing out on great TV, so that we could go and visit relatives. I missed Transformers The Movie (the cartoon version) for three years straight. As well as Robotech II: The Sentinels twice.
And I couldn't eat everything anyway, back then. Nothing fried, nothing too heavy, just oranges and subnflower seeds or some shit.
Nowadays, I just laugh as I munch on some dubiously halal treats.
Christmas, well it's different. I don't have to go back home. I don't have to receive visitors. I don't have to do shit.
In fact, I just drank half a bottle of benadryl. I'm gonna go to sleep soon. Glorious, glorious holiday.
Thank you, Jesus!