Not that Bad, Really.

If you know me at all - and let's face it, if you're reading this, you know me - but if you know me at all, you probably know that I have issues with my family. I don't get along with them, find them to be racist and closed-minded, insane, and not in a good way, and overbearing and the mere thought of them gives me heartburn.

You will also probably know that my romantic life is something they know very little about. Then again, I have had very little romantic life until now. I mean, I'm not exactly going to tell my parents about random hookups and what not.

Even if you don't know me, if you are reading this, you will probably understand that having dinner with the fam and with the boy tonight, all together, in one room, at the same restaurant, at the same table, sitting together, was kind of a big deal. BIG HUGE F'ING DEAL.

But look. I'm here blogging about it and haven't used any cuss words directed at anyone in particular.

It really wasn't that bad. I would even venture to say it was pretty good and even as we were parting ways, I pictured in my head doing it again. A second date, if you will.

The boy found the family to be pleasant. Granted, he hardly understood half the conversation because try as we might, it was mostly in Chinese. But there's something about him meeting my family and approving that makes me think, ok, fine, they're not that bad. They are good intentioned. They are generous. They were welcoming and it was almost as if the boy had to approve of them more than they had to approve of him. They were all this, on top of the racist, closed-minded, insanity. But it wasn't that bad.