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I spent the evening with the kabuti kids yesterday. We watched a few scary-ish movies and one of those dumbass shows where a group of lunk-headed high school dropouts covered with tattoos go looking for ghosts using “scientific methods.” For some reason they always show these shows in black and white during the “investigation” and then switch back to color when they’re talking about how one of the dumbasses fell down and “felt a spirit run right through him” (it happens in every episode of every one of these series).

Anyway, on a whim the kids all decided to a do a Secret Santa gift exchange among just the group of them. Since the age of the “kids” ranges from mid-teens to early thirties, there hasn’t been much opportunity for them in the past to exchange gifts among one another (or maybe they are finally all old enough to consider it a cool idea). Ironically, for Rum, next Christmas she will be a Mom and by that time, most of the gifts going in her direction will be headed for her baby’s first Christmas, so this is kind of her last Christmas as a “kid.” So yeah, Secret Santa: standard routine: bits of paper with everyone’s name on it, folded in a jar and they all chose a paper.. read the name… keep it a secret… twenty-dollar minimum, no gift certificates yippeedeedoo… lahdeedah… and then it was my turn..

…wait a minute!

I was shocked to discover that I was to be included in the exchange. No matter how comfortable Kim and I have become in our relationship, I am always pleasantly surprised when her family makes an effort to include me in it’s functions (also, it’s funny how the corniest of all Christmas rituals seems acceptable when you are suddenly a part of it). I still have yet to approach the point where I feel as comfortable with them as I would like to be. I still like them all more than any family of any girl I have dated (ever). As I have mentioned before, there really is no culture clash between us when it comes to anything race-related– I think I have gone well beyond any expectations set for me to embrace her family’s culture. However (and this topic will make a lengthy blog entry itself someday) even though I fake extroversion fairly well, I feel like my family being so small and reclusive by nature and her family being so gigantic and full of social butterflies creates a much bigger culture clash than anything our ethnic backgrounds could provide.

Well, that and the fact that I don’t take ghost stories seriously.

I am open minded about the paranormal and supernatural– it interests me a lot– but I am also not of the mindset that all unexplained and bizarre phenomena have to be linked to old-world tribal deities and spirits from another dimension. Additionally, I tend to look down on the credibility of any investigative journalism that can be found on the Sci-Fi Channel. Also, how come evil spirits tend to not bother Protestants? Has anyone ever noticed that but me?

Whatever, I already bought my secret santa gift.