I failed to call my parents on Chinese New Year’s Eve again.

I used to blame it on miscalculation of time zone differences between Chicago and Taipei.

This year I am gonna blame it on the 3rd largest snowfall (20+ inches) Chicago has ever seen.

We had to shovel in the blizzard almost every hour yesterday.

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When I finally got up this morning, it was already 8 am (i.e. 10 pm in Taipei), and this is what I saw outside the window:

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Sigh.

I wanted to go right back to bed and hibernate until the snow melted away on its own, oh, say, a month from now. (Did I tell you that we do NOT own a snow blower? Out of principle? The Husband’s. Not Mine, thank you very much).

Still I dragged myself downstairs. I had to make the call, knowing that I had missed the opportunity to call during the Chinese New Year’s Eve dinner, arguably THE most important meal for every Chinese, when all my families got together. Getting my call when everybody was together having Chinese New Year dinner would make up, to a >0 extent, for the fact that I was not there physically. But I had missed the golden window. Sure enough, I found my parents back in their apartment.

“Your brother wanted to call you at 8. But I told him not to because it would have been 6 in the morning your time. Your father wanted to wait for you to call but then it got too late, we had to come home. Your father was tired.” Mom said.

Sigh.

Since I have a flair for the dramatic, I felt I had ruined Chinese New Year and I was more than happy to ignore it. If I did not mention it, my kids would not even notice that Chinese New Year has come and gone. So why bother. I’ve had enough to do all day.

At 5 o’clock, the guilty conscience finally got a hold of me.

“Hey, how about we go to a Chinese restaurant tonight. It’s Chinese New Year’s Eve.” I said to The Husband. “And how about you invite the two Chinese co-workers of yours who are here by themselves? It would make it feel more like Chinese New Year having dinner with them than with our children who would undoubtedly whine about the food.”

The roads are still treacherous and not many cars were outside. Almost all stores and restaurants were closed, including McDonald’s. Thank goodness for the cliche “Chinese restaurants are always open” because it is true.

I am glad that I made the last minute decision to have some semblance of a Chinese New Year’s Eve: We made it to Chef Ping’s and for once it was not crowded; I got to order a shrimp dish AND a whole fish; I did NOT eat one single piece of the stupid General Tsao’s Chicken that we have to order every single time for the kids; I said Happy New Year in Chinese to more than a dozen people in the restaurant and it made me feel so much better, that Chinese New Year is not ruined after all.

I am really deprived, I know.

When I came home, I saw the email from Amanda who told me that her kids get a day off tomorrow for Chinese New Year because that is how they roll in San Francisco. And she sent me this picture of a fellow Taiwanese celebrating Chinese New Year. She at least made Mango a hat. I guess I need to get it together.

I need to go find some red envelops to give to the boys tomorrow. I was supposed to give it to them on Chinese New Year’s Eve. Oh well. They would have had to kneel and kowtow to me and The Husband and wish us long life and stuff before we gave them the red envelops anyway.

I was supposed to buy them new underwear too. I guess what you don’t know won’t hurt you.

Here’s to The Year of the Rabbit!

In case you are wondering what 2011 holds for you according to your Chinese Zodiac signs, here it is.

And for some of you, you’d be excited to know that for the Vietnamese, this year is indeed The Year of the Cat. Yes, that song is for real.

Now… who wants to look at The walking Bunny again?