Remember that long, scenic drive back up we were supposed to have?  The one that was supposed to involve lots of curvy roads and gorgeous ocean views and delicious food?  The one that involved us leaving January 1st?

Well, considering it’s January 2nd and I’m still in Anaheim, that is obviously not happening.

See, one of Mike’s ongoing goals has been to learn how to work on his own car.  In theory, this is a good thing.  However, when Mike called me from a payphone on Saturday asking me to come pick him up on the corner of Lincoln and Sunkist, I had a terrible feeling that his handiwork may have gone wrong.

And I was right.  One of his wheels had fallen off.  Evidently this causes some fairly expensive damage to the car.

So instead of arriving in San Francisco and seeking out a giant Mission burrito, I’m chillin’ in my parents guest house watching epidsodes of Psych on OnDemand.  Right now, we think we have 3 options to get home by Wednesday night:

a) wait and pray that the car gets fixed Monday night and hightail it out of here, hopefully leaving room for a couple hours of hanging out in Portland so Mike can finally see Powells and eat fish sauce chicken wings at Pok Pok.

b) find out that the car won’t be ready by first thing Tuesday morning and buy last minute plane tickets to fly home that day.  Leave the car here until somebody drives it up.

c) put the car up for sale and drive home in a new car.  At least one tiny part of Mike thinks that this may just be fate telling him that he is really meant to drive the GTR.  Or an M3 with paddle shifters.  Or a C300.

So that’s where we are.  Considering that total spontaneity pretty much sends me into tremors, I’m feeling a little stressed right now, and my body is obviously in agreement.  Check out the creepy burst blood vessel in my left eye:

That’s hot, right?

Thankfully, we have had good people down here with us, so we still have plenty of ways to keep busy.  In fact, the same day that Mike lost his wheel, we went to have a belated Christmas celebration with his mom and her AWESOME pho.

Of course, as soon as Mary and Scott heard that there would be homemade pho, they made sure they would be “accidentally stopping by.”

Mary and I took the opportunity to give Scott his Christmas present, which he promptly modeled.

Um, it was a little tight.  Thankfully, Scott didn’t collapse into a pile of hysterical tears like I would have, and instead danced around, buttons agape, for our entertainment.  This is why I love Scott.

Jimmy also came up with some especially awesome shirts for Tony and Amy:

Amy’s was the best.

Oh, and I got a pretty sweet present from Mike’s mom too-

Yeah, as much as I LOVE eyelashes- the trannier the better- I’m a little too scared to actually use this stuff.  But somehow, just the idea of Catherine giving me pharmaceuticals for Christmas feels right.

With a buttload of families to see during the holidays, Christmas can be complicated.  Thankfully, it starts out simply, just the way it should.  With cinnamon rolls.

That’s the wreckage of what was left over from my annual Christmas Cinnabun.  Some families leave homemade cookies out for Santa and wake up to the smell of homemade pastries wafting through the house.  My family makes a Christmas Eve run to the mall for white flour and trans fats.  Deeee-licious.  (This year we did supplement with some hippie cinnamon rolls that I brought from home- Sin Dawgs by Dave’s Killer Bread.  With their organic whole wheat flour and hefty dose of flax seeds, they may look healthy, but holy crap are they delicious.  Cinnabuns still hold a sentimental place in my heart, but if you have any way to get a hold of Sin Dawgs, do it.)\

Once we had ingested enough sugar, we moved on to presents. My mom definitely made out the best this year, scoring a swanky TAG watch from my dad.  Of course, she was even happier to open OUR presents-

A head scarf for her upcoming trip to Egypt.

And a Bumpit!

Okay, so she still has to master the art of the Bumpit- we’ll work on that.  My dad, however, totally dug it and has asked her to where it basically every time they leave the house.  This is ENDLESSLY amusing for me.

After we opened presents, my lazy family watched The Hangover while I slaved away in the kitchen.

Jimmy and Amy joined us.

Trust me, the food was better than their faces imply.  I’m just a horrific photographer.

After we ate, we were supposed to go visit Mike’s mom for a Christmas gift exchange.  Unfortunately, her father-in-law ended up having to go to the hospital.  He’s a nice guy, so Mike and Amy and I headed over to say hi.

They had their own Christmas feast.

We hung out, chatted, and I made some progress on Amy’s already-belated-birthday-knitting gift:

And that was Christmas Day.

One more celebration to go!

Between working from home, visiting friends and family and celebrating the holidays, I am WAY behind on blogging.  I will get around to doing a full recap of all 3 of our Christmas adventures, but not tonight.  Tonight I’m tired and slightly nauseous.

I’m tired because I’ve been running non-stop since a 9:00 am spin class led by an instructor who broke out into a full Rockettes-style high kick number in the middle of class  (that’s what happens when you go tot he 24 Hour Fitness across the street from the Disneyland Cast Member Parking lot) followed by brunch, knitting, yogurt and catching up with a couple of particularly fantastic friends.  I’m nauseous because Jimmy, Mike and I joined Mike’s dad and grandparents for dinner at a very fobby Chinese restaurant.

Mike’s dad ordered a feast for the six of us- shell-on prawns, sauteed pea sprouts, a whole fried fish, steamed clams, fried tofu and seafood hot pot.

The clams went fast and furious.

Yes, that’s ice in the beer glass.

The real star of the show was the hot pot.

Swimming in that broth you’ll find shrimp, lobster, squid, fish, mushrooms, sea sponge and some weird balls.  I still don’t know what those balls were.  Jimmy told me they were lychee (wrong), Mike said he thought they were either fish stomachs or “poop holders” (I don’t even want to know), and his dad just called them “fish balls.”  Mike’s grandparents, who don’t speak English, just stared at me disapprovingly and probably wished Mike had married a nice quiet fertile Asian girl with a graduate degree.

Naturally, Mike, Jimmy and I decided to keep things mature and appropriate and started daring each other to eat the stuff in the soup.  Jimmy volunteered to go first and ate a mushroom.  In case you’re wondering how eating a mushroom counts as adventure, you should know that 2 years ago, Jimmy called all vegetables “salad” (as in “I want a cheeseburger, no salad”) and would only eat Romaine lettuce drenched in ranch dressing.  So a mushroom is a big step.

He liked it!  Well, he didn’t exactly like it, but he survived.

Mike went next.  He tried to eat a fish ball.

He failed.

Even though Mike had failed, I soldiered on and went face to face with the sea sponge.

That shit is nasty.

The taste wasn’t terrible- it really just tasted like sea water.  The texture… well, that was a whole different story.  That’s where the face comes from.

I did it though- I swallowed the sponge and kept it down (even if the oil in the food made me fairly sick later.)  And just as we finished dinner, the entire restaurant was suddenly serenaded by the most random musical trio I’ve ever seen anywhere in my life, let alone in the middle of a Vietnamese-owned Chinese seafood restaurant.

I have no idea what they were doing there.  But somehow, it was a fitting end to the night.

A recap via some of my favorite pictures from the week.

Mary and I get Ce Fiore and aruge about whose yogurt is prettier.

Picking Derrick up on a street corner in the morning…

and then again at night.

The Ritz Carlton robes my dad bribed a maid to steal for him.

The fact that the boys have spent so much time playing Rock Band that they seem to be starting their own band.

The fact that my parents thought it was funny to hang this up in the guest house.

Some Diet Cokes are just TOO big.

Getting in LOTS of bonding time (too much?) with Mr. An Pham.

Thanksgiving meal #1 with Bachs, Trans, Wests and Phams.

In California, this is what happens after you eat turkey in November.

Mike, animated.

He really likes his gravy.

An’s post-turkey coma.

Post Thanksgiving Ping Pong tournament.

The audience.

What happens when you lose.

Visiting Grandma.

The Tran family Thanksgiving spread.  Eggrolls are awesome.

Time to go home.  Exhausted.