This sport he much enjoyed

Christmas morning yesterday. Presents, etc. I got a couple of nice new sweaters, and some other stuff. Then in the afternoon, we went to my grandparents’ in San Jose for traditional Christmas-with-the-extended-family. I used to do that every year until we moved away, and then I moved even further away, and then I moved even further away. It’d been about six years since I’d last spent Christmas with my grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles.

I’m the oldest of nine cousins, and the rest of them are substantially bigger now. Kevin, Aunt Carol’s youngest, is a senior in high school — I remember him running around Uncle Ben’s cabin, naked. I guess he must’ve been two or three at the time. Heather, Uncle Gary’s older daughter, is four years younger than me — that seems like much less now than it did when I was twelve. I found myself talking to a very interesting peer.

Also, all of my cousins, both male and female, are beautiful. My Japanese grandparents had four Japanese children, all of whom married caucasians and had beautiful half-Japanese children, though I say it who shouldn’t. Nice talking to them, and I’m sorry that we’ve lost touch. I think I’ll make a point of trying to do better; some good people there.

Also, my Uncle David’s two girls, Maya and Emily, are seven and nine and the cutest things ever. And they sit with me and talk to me and are smart and sweet and attentive and excellent.

I spent the night in San Jose, and in the morning, Grandpa, Uncle Gary, and I drove to Monster Park, where we met my dad, to see the 49ers! My dad had some really amazingly excellent seats; fifteen rows up on the ground section, on the home goal-line. A fantastic view; I could see facial expressions on Kevan Barlow and Tony Parrish and Ken Dorsey and everybody. Curtis Conway is bigger than I’d realized, and Fred Beasley is stockier than I’d realized. Also: the Gold Rush are *way* hotter than I’d realized. God Damn. And I’d always thought the leather look was just sort of lame. It turns out, I was wrong — it’s way hot.

It turns out, though, that the cheerleaders were the best part of the game. My beloved Niners were *horrible*. We lost 41-7, and the seven was fourth-quarter garbage against third-stringers. Disgusting. Also, family-related awkwardness, and the stadium was colder than I’d wanted.

I can’t wait to go to another one. It’d be way exciting to see them win.

Mmm… Gold Rush.