Underneath my yellow skin

Category Archives: Tirades

More musing about Christmas (which I don’t really celebrate), part two

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I’ve given some more thought as to Christmas, which is now done with. The Discord I’m in is very Christmas-forward, and I was thinking about what feeling the dozens of ‘Merry Christmas’ comments engendered in me. As you might expect, the answer to that is ‘it’s complicated’. Here is my post from yesterday.

Twenty years ago, I would have been quietly fuming as I studiously ignored the comments. I might have stayed off the Discord for the week of Christmas because it would irk me so much. Even then, I would realize that it’s my issue and not the issue of the people in the Discord (well, to some extent. The relentless pushing of Christmas is a societal priblem, yes, but not one solevd by railing against any individual or even collective celebration. But then when? That’s a neverending question, sadly).

Ten years ago, I would have read them and ignored them, feeling a twinge of irritation, but otherwise just accepting it’s part of being in the West. Christmas is big. There is nothing I can do about it, so might as well accept it with a modicum of grace. This wasn’t for society, by the way, but for me. It’s not fun going through the entire month of December being incandescent with rage.

Now, while I still don’t celebrate, I’m more than happy to share in the joy of others who do. Be it pictures of family events/happy pets/good food, etc., or just talking about what they did, it makes me happy when my friends are happy.

Side note: When I realized that I was ENM, one thing that was an eye opener for me was that I was happy when someone I loved was happy, even if that was with another person. I mean, I knew when I was younger that I didn’t feel the same about monogamy as other people do, it didn’t really hit me until decades later that it was more than just I don’t care if someone I love looks elsewhere.

It actually makes me happy because I want the people I love to be happy. And I don’t think any one person can be everything to another person. I also did not see how a beloved’s relationship with someone else had any impact on their relationship with me.

I get it intellectually, but not emotionally. If someone I love is hapy, then why shouldn’t I be happy? The only time I care is if I feel my relationship with the person is suffering, and that has nothing to do with the other person my loved one is interested in.

How did I get there from musing about Christmas? I think I can make a tenuous connection in that I’ve reached the point where I don’t care if other people like Christmas or not. It makes me happy that it makes my loved ones happy to celebrate. I wish everyone a Merry Christmas if I know they celebrate it, then I go about my own business. I have whittled down the lest of people I buy presents for to one–K. We exchange gifts, and she gives the best ones. This year, she gave me a stuffed snowflake to represent my love of winter and snow. I gave her a retro print of three bright pink/red tulips.

In thanking me, she said that tulips were one of her favorite flowers. I did not know that, but I really vibed with the painting when I saw it as I was shopping for K. I know she loves flowers, and she’s a bright light in my world. Something about the tulip painting spoke to me. It was by a local (to her) artist, which made it even better.


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Wishing everyone a mellow, chill Christmas (which I don’t celebrate)

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I have a long, complicated history with holidays. I learned the truth about Santa when I was seven or eight when I got up to check my stocking and there was nothing in it. I went to tell my mother, and she told me to go back to bed. She would talk to Santa and straighten things out. She got an hour later, and there were presents in the stocking.

I have to say that she really did her best to adapt to an American trradition that was completely foreign to her. She tried hard to give us an authentic Americn life while simultaneously making sure my father had his Taiwanese food. (The only kind of food he likes.)

When I was in middle school or early high school, I wrote an op-ed for the school paper about how commercialized Christmas had become. I was so young and naive then. I mean, it was true for the time, but fifteen-year old me would have been appalled by how much worse it is now.

I hated Christmas for decades. I was very vocal about my loathing for it when I was in my twenties and early thirties. There was one thing that brought me joy, and that was listening to every version of O Holy Night I could find because it’s the one Christmas carol I like. I made it my own holiday tradition–posting all the different versions I could find to Facebook and writing about them in my blog. I have heard dozens over the years, and I have to say that my favorite continues to be Jennifer Hudson, any version. I have included one below, and it gives me chills.

Sometime in my thirties, I started losing my hatred for it. It was slow-going, but it was noticeable. When I hit my early forties, I noticed that I no longer hated it. I didn’t like it, mind, but I was able to be neutral about it. Well, if I’m going to be completely honest, I still winced whenever I heard a carol out in the wild, but that was a very mild reaction compared to the loathing I used to feel.

By the way, I heard the first Christmas carol in the grocery store a month or more ago. It’s all they play for the whole month of December. That is way too much and way over the top. That’s part of why I dislike the holiday, to be honest. There’s no need to make it a 24/7 thing for an entire month.

My mother called me tonight (Christmas Eve) to wish me a Merry Christmas. She wanted me to sing to my father because that’s one thing he can still do–sing, I mean. He used to have a great voice and loved doing karaoke. Now, his voice is thin and toneless, but it’s still something he enjoys doing.


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Not really in the mood to celebrate

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It was the Fourth of July today (yesterday now). I have never cared much about this holiday because I have very complicated feelings about my country, but now, my feelings are not as equivocal.

Let me be clear. I am not a patriot. I have never been a patriot. Much as I have no brand loyalty, I don’t understand why I should be passionate about America just because I was born in it. Let’s face it. I am not someone who cares about teams at all. I used to be a Vikings fan. I enjoyed the games and was happy when they won. But it didn’t ruin my life when they didn’t. I remember the year that the Vikings went 15-1, and the state was in a lather that maybe, just maybe they would win their first Super Bowl.

Instead, they shat the bed in the NFC Championship and lost to the Falcons 30-27. Fun fact: apparently they were the first team to go 15-1 and not make the Super Bowl. Great. Just great. The Vikings have also never won a Super Bowl. That much I still remember.

I was sad that they lost, but I got over it in a day or two. At the beginning of training camp for the next season, which, I may remind you, is roughly six months later, one of the local news stations interviewed a devoted Vikings fan. He was in full gear and makeup, and he was still devastated. He talked about how he couldn’t get over it and how crushed he was that ‘we’ had lost.

My dude.

Brah.

….

Look.

I admit that I am the last one to talk about being a part of a team or team loyalty. It is so not my thing, even when I was very into sports. I get the camaraderie and feeling like you’re part of something, but to be brutally honest, you (the viewer) had nothing to do with the win or lost. You’re not out there training every day. You didn’t throw the ball, catch it, or race into the end zone for a TD.

I do know that having fans that root for you can boost a team’s morale and mood, but I have to believe there’s a ceiling to that effect. In addition, apparently, now with the explosion of sports fantasy leagues, players are receiving death threats by people who have them on their fantasy sports league team if they don’t do well. Which, by the way, don’t do that. That shouldn’t need to be said, but here we are.

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An eye to the future

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I’m writing this on Christmas Day, and I’m contemplative. I don’t celebrate Christmas, but everyone else in my life does. It’s another thing where I don’t mind that I’m different from everyone else, and I’m not bothered by people wishing me a Merry Christmas. it’s taken me many decades to be truly neutral about Christmas, and I still have a reflexive instinct to wish people a Merry Christmas.

I went through a period of time where I wished people Happy Holidays, but that never felt natural to me. We all know that it’s Christmas today–and, indeed, the month leading up to this day. No one thinks about Hanukkah, let alone Kwanzaa (interesting note, Hanukkah started on December 25th this year). I had to roll my eyes when some Christians got so upset about salespeople saying ‘Happy Holidays’ instead of ‘Merry Christmas’ because ‘They’re taking the Christ out of Christmas!’.

Um.

I hate to break it to them, but if Jesus really did exist, he probably would have been on the side of the people salespeople who were working their asses off for peanuts during the holiday season and dealing with entitled assholes screaming at them because they could not find a PlayStation5 anywhere and little Timmy would be sooooo disappointed when he did not get one under the tree. The only thing that Christmas really celebrated these days was crass commercialism and capitalism.

Hm. Maybe I’m not as neutral about Christmas as I thought I was. But the idea of gathering with friends and/or families and/or other loved ones is a lovely one. Winter is fmy favorite season so I see nothing wrong with letting people know that I love them–even if it’s on an overly saccharinely sweet holiday.

See, I may be against traditions for the most part, but I believe in love. Love is what got me through dying (twice) and me fumbling back to some semblance of normal afterwards.

There is one holiday song duo that I like, one Christmas carol that I love, and two other Christmas-related (sort of) songs that are quite lovely, indeed. The first one is Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy by Bing Crosby and David Bowie. It’s just really beautiful.

The rest of them, though, can mostly get in the bin. Not because they’re necessarily bad songs, but because they have been so overplayed. Christmas music starts being played in the stores any time after Halloween (and one horrible yer, it started in early October). I hated that year, let me tell you what.

Note: I didn’t feel like finishng the post on Christmas, so I wrote the rest of it the next day.

I still hate the commercialization of Christmas (which started when I was in high school. I wrote an op-ed in 9th grade about how Christmas had become one month-long, overpriced commercial. That was over thirty years ago!) , and I get so tired of the forced cheer.

I don’t hate it the way I used to, but I don’t understand why people are so into it, either. Here’s Jennifer Hudson singing, O Holy Night. I actually sang that for church one Christmas. A solo. This is the only traditional Christmas carol that I love with all my heart. I get chills every time I hear it.


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Why the holidays are so fraught

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I have hated most holidays all my life. The only holiday I liked was Halloween, and it’s because black is a featured color. Plus, you can dress up in a costume as an adult and it’s not weird. That’s pretty cool. I did a bait-and-switch yesterday in that I was gonig to talk about holidays, but then ended up talking about bigots. I think it’s pretty clear how I got from one to the other because holidays are when bigots seem unavoidable. Or rather, when people feel pressured to spend time with faaaaaaamily.

I’m not saying bigots and family are the same thing. I am saying that they are often the same thing. I’m also saying it’s when you see the bigots in your family if you have to see them at all. This is one reason I don’t like tradition for the sake of tradition–it makes you do things you don’t want to do and it makes you the problem if you don’t.  I mean, this is a problem with family, too, so it’s no surprise that when you put the two together, it just makes everything worse.

I think one of my issues with holidays/traditions is that they become so hardened over time. And they harken back to a time that people romanticize, but were not better for the majority of people. Any time people talk about the good old days, all I hear is “we don’t like diversity” or “we don’t realize that not everyone is like us”. It’s not surprising that most people who mourn for the good old days are white people. In America, I mean. Anyone being wistful for the sixties and is still alive to talk about it is most likely not a PoC or a queer person. Or, quite frankly, a woman.

Especially in this year, I have no tolerance for this bullshit. It disheartens me that I have to reiterate what I wrote about more than ten years ago when marriage equality was being debated. If someone does not believe that I deserve the same human rights as straight people, we cannot be friends. There is just no debating this.

I hate the framing of ‘this is just politics’. It’s not just politics. The political is, as the saying go, personal. If it didn’t have any impact in the real world, then we wouldn’t care about voting at all. (Not going to get into voting right now; I’m just not.) If it didn’t matter, there wouldn’t have been the Capitol attack. Only people who aren’t disadvantaged would say that politics don’t matter.

I don’t like having hate in my heart, but it’s where I am right now. I am old. I am tired. I went through hell with my medical crisis back in 2021–well, kind of. Not going to expand on that, either. This year has been a really shitty year. A very shitty year. I don’t want to talk about that, either, but it’s been such a downer of a year.


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Have a holly, jolly–oh stop it

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I’m in a pensive mood. Not just because of the holidays, but just because of gestures at the world all around. There are people who believe that voting for that man is ‘just politics’ and why would someone end a friendship/family relationship over ‘just politics’? And why are we (those on the left) being soooooooooooooo intolerant? Aren’t we being just as bad/hypocritical/intolerant?!?

In a word: no. In two words: hell fucking no. Ok, that was three, but you know what I mean.

There’s a theory called the Paradox of Tolerance that was coined by Karl Popper in 1945. It’s enjoyed a resurgence in the past several years, probably because of the thing that I want to talk about. Basically, the theory goes that if a society is tolerant of the intolerant, then it erodes the very tolerance it wants to espouse. This is a very gross generalization of the theory, but it’s good enough for my purpose.

Whether someone likes pizza with pineapple or not is a personal opinion. I don’t care if someone likes the same musical groups I do, for another example. Hell. What someone wants or doesn’t want to do in the bedroom is fine by me! (As long as it’s consensual, obviously.) Whether or not someone thinks I am a human being who should be allowed to exist? Yeah, no. That’s not a matter of opinion or something I need to entertain.

That’s the devious part of the whole conversation and has been for as long as I have followed politics. Or rather, the disgusting part. This happened during the debates for marriage equality, too. The bigots were all, “Can’t we be civil about this?” Nope. I am not civil with people who believe I am less of a human being than they are. Also, I resent the narrative that the people who are being oppressed need to present their side in a perfectly calm and, let’s face it, servile manner or be viewed as uncivil. This is the whole ‘tone police’ argument, by the way. “Oh, if you only present your case in an agreeable enough way (i.e., supplicating), then maaaaaaaaaybe we would deign to listen to it.

Again. Fuck that noise. If someone wants to do the work of trying to win over the bigots–more power to them. BLah blah blah win them over to your side whatever the fuck. I ain’t got time for that shit, and I have no patience for begging people to grant me my humanity. Accept me or don’t, but I am not going to try to win anyone over.


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More thoughts on holidays and capitalism

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Still musing about capitalism and holidays. I was at Cubs, and Christmas music was blaring from the overhead speaker. In November. No. Just–no. I mean, it’s better than the year I saw a Christmas ad in the first week of October, but not by much. Here is my post from yesterday.

I used to hate Christmas. I find it amusing that I wrote an article about the commercialism of Christmas when I was in high school–which was nearly forty years ago. I got some flak for that back then, and I still get it periodically throughout the years.

I don’t think I was ever really into Christmas. I liked the presents, of course, but the holiday itself was pretty fraught. I remember when I was seven or eight, I woke up fairly early and raced to my stocking. There was nothing in it, which crushed me. I went to my mother and told her about it. She told me to go back to bed and Santa would be there soon. A half hour later, the stocking was filled, and that’s when I realized that my mother was Santa. I didn’t believe after that.

My issues with Christmas didn’t really have to do with that, though. Nor with the fact that it’s a Christian holiday trying to masquerade as a secular one. I do have issues with that bit, but more because some Christians take such offense at ‘happy holiday’ and try so hard to feel persecuted as a majority.

My main issue was with tradition itself. This is a constant battle I have with my mother. She is Taiwanese by birth and it runs in her veins. In addition, her mother was really rigid as to what she thought was The Right Way To Be, and those ways were deeply, deeply sexist. DEEPLY. So much so, it’s embedded in my mother’s DNA. Here’s the irony. Both my grandmother and my mother were untraditional women. My grandmother was the first woman to attend a certain college in Japan and to be the equivalent of a senator in her prefecture in Taipei. At the same time, she espoused that women should stay home, have children, and always hyped up the men in her husband’s family.

Here’s the other irony. She had eight children–four boys and four girls. Of the four boys, only two weren’t completely screwed up. And only one made what you could arguably call a success of himself (the oldest). Of the girls, all of them have done well for themselves.

My mother continued the tradition of trumpeting traditional gender roles for boys and girls*. My brother was allowed to run around and be energetic. Granted, he was also on the spectrum, but that wasn’t well-known at the time so my mother didn’t know what to do about it.


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More pensive thoughts this holiday

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It’s Black Friday, y’all. When did this become such a thing? I’ve never been a shopping kind of person, so I don’t understand why this is such a big deal to people. Then again, I also am not someone who is heavily influenced by marketing. I am not loyal to brands. I mean, if something works, I will stick to it–until it no longer works. Or until I find something better. To me, that’s how it should be. I don’t get putting one brand over another simply because of what the label says. Back when I drank pop, I was a Coke person (Caffeiene-free Diet Coke, then Diet Coke, then Coke Zero). I drank the last until they changed the formula. That tasted gross to me so I quit drinking it. Then I quit drinking pop completely. If I do have a pop, though, it’ll be a Diet Coke. I have heard that Coke Zero is back to the old formula, but I haven’t tried it in years.

It’s interesting because I’ve been on a bit of a shopping jag lately, but only for one specific thing–Giant Hoodies. They make huge hoodies that fit most people, and I had bought a few of them in the past. The reason being that the hoodies I had been buying recently were ‘unisex’, but did not fit my massive chest. I cannot buy women’s clothing because it’s usually fitted and will have problems with the shape of my body over all. I have broad shoulders and big biceps on top. I have thick thighs and calves on bottom. I’m just thick and very muscular all over. So, yeah. Fitted women’s clothing is a no-go. Also, what’s up with the capped sleeves? I hate them so much. I hate short sleeves in general, but especially the capped sleeves.

Unisex is usually better about shoulders and arms, but that’s because they are just men’s sizes under a different name. Which means boobage is not taken into consideration. Of course. Also, the sweatshirts that I had this issue with (way too tight across the chest) was with a British company–which I think matters sizing-wise. I’m guessing sizes are smaller over there than here in general. But also, I have just huge boobs. They’re HUGE. And I hate them being squished–which is why I gave up bras.

I also gave up on getting sweatshirts from this company. I’m not naming them because it’s not the company’s fault. Although, weirdly, their t-shirts don’t have the same issue. I live in hoodies in the the winter, and I love them. They are comfy and warm, and they feel like a gentle hug. In fact, they feel better than a hug to me.

I don’t know how I heard about Giant Hoodies, but I was skeptical upfront. Why? Because ‘most people’ usually doesn’t include me. All their hoodies were one-size fits most, and they are pretty pricey. I decided to try one out, and I was delighted with it. Shadow claimed it as his own, and I quickly ordered another one. They also have blankets that are supposed to be really soft and warm. I was skeptical, but I got one one sale, and it’s amazing. Seriously. I sleep with it every night, and it’s the best blanket I’ve ever used. I recently got another for free with the purchase of two more sweatshirts, which was a really great deal.


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Pensive on sometimes-turkey (but sometimes other things) day

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It’s Thanksgiving today here in the states. Given the state of the country, I’m not feeling very thankful. I’m not feeling t all grateful. I’m fearful for what is to come in the upcoming years. I was going to set that aside, but I can’t do it quite yet. I’m still not over what happened at the polls, and I don’t know what to do about it. It really feels like a line-in-the-sand moment for this country, and I don’t know what I’m going to do with it.

The fact that over half the voters in this country are that threatened by a black/Indian woman being president was a cold, hard slap in the face. It’s fucking 2024. Aren’t we past this yet? My mother was half-joking that I should move to Taiwan. That’s not a good idea for several reasons, but they did elect a woman as president in 2016. I remember because it was the same year that Hillary Clinton was running for president. Taiwan is also the first Asian country to make marriage equality legal. My mother brought that up as well.

Those would be two very big reasons I would consider Taiwan if there weren’t other big negative reasons to counteract the positives. It galls me, though,that my country of heritage has done two very progressive things, one well before my actual country (assuming we ever elect a non-male president). It was such a shock to me how big the win was by because in my mind, race and gender should not matter at all. I don’t think of either in anything but a positive way, so knowing that others don’t feel that way–my fucking countrymen (and, yes, emphasis on men)–infuriates and saddens me.

I keep stumbling over the fact that we are regressing in a hurry. I had more rights when I was in my twenties than my niblings do today. And the next administratin will do their damnedest to make sure that generations to come have even less personal rights than our ancestors. And the fact that apparently queer people in general and trans people in specific are the number one issue to be dealt with. Even if someone is against queer people, how does it affect them at all?

So. What am I thankful for? I’m thankful for my friends and my brother. I’m thankful that I am still alive, I guess. It’s difficult to say that unequivocally because of what’s going on, though. I keep thinking, “I did not come back for this shit.”

Uh. Oh. I’m glad that I ‘m able to write again. Sometimes, it’s the outside pressure that gets me to do what I need/want to do. That was what grad school did for me. I went to New College of California (sigh. I’m sighing because they got their accreditation stripped for financial shenanigans) to get my MA in Writing & Consciousness. It was a year-long MA program, and while there were many problems with it, it made me write every day.


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Feel jolly, but not holly

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More on Christmas. Here was yesterday’s post, and I’m going to continue my musing. I have hated Christmas and I have been studiedly indifferent to Christmas, but now, I’m feeling warmly about the holiday time. Not Christmas itself, but community. Atnd being alive.

As I said in the last post, it’s been a long road to get where I am now. This year, I’m feeling warm and cozy about, not Christmas, but about the holiday season and how much I love the people who are meaninngful to me. My two besties, my Taiji teacher, my brother, my nibling and their brothers, my cat–of course!!–and people on the periphery.

I love the forums to which I belong. Well, one forum. The RKG Discord. However, I am starting to feel a bit…

Here’s the thing. I get to the end of things and then I am done. With websites, if they don’t evolve, then I get bored. The same thing with the same comments by the same people…what’s the point in that? I used to follow politics back when Obama was president. And I would get tired of people being so limited in their points of view. I am sure they would say the same things about me, by the way. That’s the nature of people. They don’t hugely change on the daily. It would be a wild and woolly time if they did. But it’s frustrating when I constantly butt up against the limits of each person.

That’s what I’m starting to feel about the RKG Discord. I like the people very much. Most of them are really kind and caring. But. (You knew there was going to be a but, right?) The limits to the understanding of life outside their own experiences are very restrictive.  Here’s the thing. RKG are three cis het white Western dudes. They’re great guys, yes, but they’re still very much in the mainstream themselves.

To that point, their commenters are much like them. The vast majority are cis het white dudes–which is othering at times. Not on purpsoe, obviously, but just because that’s what they know. There is a channel for the grot, and it’s interesting when certain topics come up. Someone brought up polyamory and asked where all his poly people were at. The three of us who responded were all queer people (of varying alternate gender identities). The white straight dudes (which the guy asking was) were all quick to say NO WAY NUH UH HELL NO! Well, one was not, but that was a more complicated response. He wasn’t pro-poly, per se.


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