Monthly Archives: May 2026

Sloths, extremely premium coffee, and lunch in a mangrove

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We started our first full day in Roatan at Daniel Johnson’s Monkey and Sloth Hangout, where you can see and interact with monkeys, sloths and parrots up close. There was a time when the Hangout would allow you to hold a sloth for a few minutes, but unfortunately (for us, anyway), Honduras passed a law prohibiting this. Sloths are native to Honduras (mainland), but not to Roatan. The sloths and monkeys at the Hangout were all rescued. Some came from abusive, dirty, dingy environments. Some of the monkeys were even former pets of people who just tired of them (that type of thing makes my blood boil).

The sloths, for the most part, were… sloths. They were mostly sleeping, occasionally waking up to look at us and scratch themselves. “Sloths don’t do anything. They’re lazy. Sloths are just like koalas, just uglier,” Chris remarked. While it could be interpreted as a bit mean, he’s got a point. We watched them on their trees, and then eventually moved on to see the green and scarlet macaws up close. The macaws, if given an incentive (something tasty), would fly onto people’s heads and arms. For the second time in my life, I got to have a macaw perch on my arm. She was a lot lighter than I thought she would be. It’s likely my dad’s influence since he loves birds and most animals, but I’ve always loved these creatures. Seeing this scarlet macaw up close with her beautiful vibrant red, yellow, and blue feathers, all so tightly preened, was so much fun. Kaia was a little scared when she saw the macaws and didn’t want to get too close, but when she saw one on my arm, she immediately was intrigued. I think she is definitely more like me than Chris in this regard: Chris doesn’t care to get close to any animal unless it’s on his plate. Kaia loves looking at and petting animals.

The last stop was the spider monkeys cage, which we were warned could potentially result in us getting pooped or peed on. Given we were already there, I figured I’d be okay with that risk. Plus, I wanted Kaia to experience getting close to the monkeys. The monkeys would jump from person to person, either on our heads or shoulders, in a circle. While the monkey never climbed on top of Kaia, a monkey did get on top of me, which Kaia was super excited about and giggled endlessly for. I just loved seeing her reactions to the different animals and hearing all the questions she would ask about them and what they were doing. This animal experience definitely piqued her curiosity.

After the Hangout, we made a stop at the beautiful Spirit Origin Coffee, where we enjoyed an extremely meticulous and premium coffee tasting flight (that cost almost $50 USD!). We got to see views of the water on both sides of the building. And while I sat with Kaia on a comfy couch overlooking the ocean and we took turns drawing on her doodle pad, Chris got to sit at the coffee bar and listen to explanations of how the coffee was made and the stories behind it. I occasionally went up to the bar to share tastes and also to sniff the differences between the whole beans versus the ground beans. In all three bean scenarios, the ground vs. whole scent was a world apart! I never would have guessed the grounds were from the same whole beans. This place is so fancy that they even do a coffee omakase experience, where downstairs, you can have a full tasting menu meal with a coordinated cup of coffee to go with each course. They sent us home with two packets of coffee — each valued at about $9 USD each. The 12 oz. bags range in price from $36 to $69; we’ve never paid that much for coffee in the U.S., so I think this definitely gave us a sense of exactly how luxurious this Honduran coffee truly was.

And after the very premium coffee stop, our next stop… was a confusing one because Chris didn’t know how we’d get to the restaurant he wanted us to get to. The land ended, and there was water we’d have to go through to get to this, place, and it was unclear how we’d do that. The further east side of the island is far more local and residential feeling. We were driving in a very grassy area when a random guy came out of nowhere and asked us where we were trying to go. Chris told him he was looking for a specific restaurant that was out in the mangroves, so this man told us that we could pay $10 to park in this private spot (a patch of grass in front of someone’s house), and his friend would help boat us over to the bar. We went through the mangroves and onto a rickety floating bar setup to eat some fried pork, fried red snapper, and tostones, all in the company of the bar attendant and another local. They were likely wondering how the hell we even found this place. But Chris does like to work his magic. The food was really good and fresh. The service was very friendly and helpful; everyone was warm and spoke excellent English. And we got to have lunch in the middle of a mangrove — how often does this happen? Kaia even got to see a baby jellyfish up close because our boat guy found a tiny one and flipped it over so we could see its tentacles up close.

And with that, we went back to West End to pick up some excellent jerk chicken from Anthony’s Chicken & More and then went back to the hotel for more sunset pool time (and more fighting over the floaties between mama and Kaia, then a delicious dinner in our temporary apartment.

We’re not normally resort people, but I must say that I really, really love this hotel property. I love the pool setup and how it’s steps away from the beautiful white sand beach with clear waters. The service has been extremely warm and hospitable. I love the decor and the layout and the different types of living setups, from regular hotel rooms to apartments with balconies to bungalows. And I even love the little details, like the bathroom layouts in the common areas and the open circle swings randomly placed inside. I love that you can see the ocean and the sunset right from the hotel pool, and we’ve been able to enjoy that to get in our “resort time.” I also like that the resort fee includes rentals of snorkeling equipment (everything from the snorkels to the fins) and life vests — and even sand castle building tools! This is very important for my little Pookie!

First day in Roatan, Honduras

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After a bleary eyed 6am flight, then a connecting flight in Miami, we reached Roatan at about midday local time. Chris decided that to be cost efficient and more flexible for transportation that we’d rent a car for our time on the island, so we got our rental car, then had to switch rental cars because Apple Play was not working. It was actually funny when Chris realized this while in the driver’s seat; he asked me to find the attendant who helped us. I got out of the car and told the attendant, to which he shrugged indifferently and said, “Well, that car’s Apple Play doesn’t work, so, eh?” So in other words, he knew but he didn’t really care. Yes, that may be no big deal for him since he’s a local, but we’re tourists who have never been there, so we kind of need the map navigation help, buddy!

We got to our hotel, where we were escorted via golf buggy to our one-bedroom apartment/suite. Whenever we get larger hotel rooms with multiple rooms or suites, I always have multiple thoughts in my head, the main ones being: 1) I’m very grateful for the luxurious experience, as I am extremely cognizant that most people either cannot afford to have these rooms or would never be given complimentary upgrades the way we have on countless occasions, and 2) the one that seems to stick with me the most is that most of these suites/apartments would be multiple times the sizes of average New York City apartments. When you are used to living in small spaces and are temporarily given very large spaces to enjoy, that in itself feels like a luxury and a privilege. The apartment already had a roller bed laid out neatly for Kaia. In the apartment was separate one bedroom, a full bathroom, a large living/dining area, a full kitchen with all the utensils/appliances you could possibly ask for (even a blender and a toaster!). The cherry on top was the large balcony, which overlooked the resort and ocean. It was well appointed with a couch and a table and chairs for dining.

We ended up going out to the West End for some lunch and walking. West End is a short drive from the West Bay Beach area where we’re staying — it’s set up like a little seaside village, with a leisurely vibe and walking strip that runs along the water and beach. We stopped at a local’s spot for the unofficial national dish of Honduras: the baleada. Given it was lunch time, I ordered one stuffed with fried pork, one with beef and avocado. Both came with refried beans, mantequilla (sour cream), and cheese on the inside. I also got two fresh juices, one papaya and one pineapple, plus a side of plantains. Interestingly, the plantains order was half-half: one half was very ripe and sweet, while the other half was more raw and savory. Chris appreciated this because he prefers the less ripe plantains, but I always obsess over the sweet ones. The baleadas were very satisfying: the tortilla was griddled really well with slight char bits on the outside, and the innards were soft, pliable, and fluffy. And predictably, Chris did make his chapati comparison.

After lunch, we walked along the water and ended up sitting at a local popular coffee spot. They use 100% Honduran beans, which was exactly what we wanted. We ordered a vanilla frappe and an iced latte, both were very smooth and well made. As was similar during our time in El Salvador and Guatemala, you can definitely eat relatively cheap while in Honduras if you really want to (a basic baleada, depending on where you get it from, can be as little as $1.50 USD), but coffee is quite pricey everywhere, as though you are buying it in the U.S.

We made our way back to the hotel for late afternoon pool time. The pool is laid out really well at our hotel and is just steps from the famous and crystal clear West Bay Beach. And lucky for us, there weren’t that many people in it. I was able to grab my newly identified half-body floaty… and wait for Kaia to try to take it from me multiple times. So we got to have some water time (and Kaia got to have some floaty and “starfish” time) right at sunset. I have a feeling sunset pool time will become a temporary ritual for us while we’re here in Roatan.

Honduras bound for an extended Memorial Day weekend

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We’re slowly but surely making our way through Central America. Tomorrow, we leave for Honduras — specifically, about three days in Roatan, the largest of the Bay Islands right in the Caribbean, and then about 1.5 days in the San Pedro Sula area on the mainland. I hadn’t shared with that many people that I was going to Honduras this weekend. But the very few times I did, I was either met with total crickets as though I said nothing, or “I don’t normally say this, and you know me. But… just be careful when you’re there.” I felt excited to be going to a place that not a single person I knew had been before.

Roatan is actually a major stop for massive cruise ships that go through the Caribbean, so for Westerners who like cruises in the Caribbean, it may be a known spot. It’s the largest of the Bay Islands, which were once a former British colony (and before that, inhabited by the local Paya people, and decimated by the Spanish). Though the British colonization was relatively brief, that had a lasting impact on the islands, as English proficiency is extremely high there relative to mainland Honduras. Roatan is also known for having crystal clear waters and having beaches where you don’t have to swim too far out to see parts of the Mesoamerican Barrier Reef, the largest coral reef system in the Western hemisphere.

Honduras is also very famous for its biodiversity, as well as its coffee, which we’ve grown to love and taste more and more since our 2019 Colombia trip. Honduras is the largest coffee producer in all of Central America and the sixth largest coffee producer in the world. Oddly enough, though, we rarely see Honduras on coffee bean bags we’ve seen or bought. From Central America, at least here in the U.S., we’re more likely to see the bean origin being from Guatemala or Costa Rica. I added a bunch of coffee spots to our saved maps list, and I’m eager to see what Honduran coffee is all about.

Baleadas, which are thick tortillas that are cooked on a griddle, usually stuffed with refried beans, mantequilla (their version of sour cream), cheese, and different proteins like fried pork, beef, or eggs, are an unofficial national dish of Honduras that I’m looking forward to trying. I’m waiting for us to have it for the first time and for Chris to predictably remark that it’s like a chapati or paratha… because he likes to think all flat breads cooked on a griddle were stolen from India. And Central American fruit — here we come again!

I have a feeling we will see some American tourists in Roatan, but likely few if any in San Pedro Sula. And that is a real thing to look forward to.

Chris’s parents go back Down Under after a month-plus in North America

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Chris’s parents left this afternoon for their long flight back to Melbourne after just over a month of traipsing around North America, with several days or week-long stints at our place. It’s always fun in the lead-up to their arrival, and then there’s some sadness at the end when Kaia realizes that her beloved Sumi and Topi are not going to cater to her demands every evening forever and ever because they will leave. Even I feel a little sad when they go. There’s less people and thus less chatter and noise in the house. There are fewer mouths to feed, which is sad for me because I enjoy feeding those I love. And then there is also just less energy in the house. I even miss the things that can at times be annoying, like Chris’s dad constantly trying to eat everything with a fork and knife (even things like… muffins or french fries…) because he hates getting his hands dirty, or Chris’s mom asking for the millionth time if we are going to run yet another wash. I miss the classist conversations of Chris yelling at his parents about how pretentious they are, and even the one-sided talks about how marriages of today don’t last simply because people of my generation have unreasonably high standards and inflexibility (said by people who would most likely be seen as inflexible and stubborn, but hey, who needs self-awareness today?). The banter is fun because I know it will all eventually go out the door with them. So it’s all temporal and good entertainment for me.

As I left the building, our handyman friend asked us what was new, and I told him that Chris’s parents just left to go back to Melbourne. “Oh, you can breathe a sigh of relief then!” he said to me, patting me on my back.

“No, I actually am sad they are leaving,” I smiled. “The more, the merrier!”

“Well, isn’t that unusual!” he responded back, surprised.

He says this to me pretty much every year they come, and he forgets that I genuinely like my in-laws. I like spending time with them. And every visit when they come and tolerate their eldest son’s ridiculous demands and our much smaller, cozier living space versus what they have, I am reminded again and again how, relatively speaking, they actually are quite easy-going, far more so than almost any other parent or in-law I have known or heard of, of their generation. And for that, I am always grateful.

The amazing pizza guy in Washington Heights who sent me home with a huge sample of his Calabrian chili oil

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On Chris’s parents’ last full day with us before they head back to Melbourne, we took them up to Washington Heights. Chris decided our lunch “appetizer” would be at a local pizza spot that opened about 1.5 years ago, which happens to be just next door to a really good Singaporean hole-in-the-wall we’ve dined at a couple times.

Niccolo Pizzeria was a tiny spot, but was so, so memorable today! We got two cheese slices, which were excellent – super thin crust and crispy. The cheese, tomato sauce, and the crust were all perfection! But what truly, truly blew us away was the super warm and friendly hospitality from Cleber, the manager/owner. He was extremely kind and explained the menu and ingredients to us right away — he made us feel like family there. He even humored Kaia and gave her a VERY generous helping of their daily in-house made soft-serve gelato, which today was white chocolate-pineapple. When we told him we live on the Upper West Side and came just to try a few things in the area since Chris’s parents were visiting from Australia, he was so shocked not only that we came from another neighborhood, but also brought international visitors to his restaurant! So he gave us a second generous sample of their soft serve gelato. He also insisted we not miss his Calabrian chili oil. He told me he imports the Calabrian chilies in oil from Italy, then simply adds high quality extra virgin olive oil to them and allows the chilies to infuse the olive oil. He doesn’t add anything else! At that point, we’d already finished our pizza share, but I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to try a new chili oil. So I poured a few drops onto my plate and licked it, and WOW! The Calabrian chili oil had this really delicious smoky, fruity flavor with a huge hit of heat at the end, which was really addictive! I told Cleber how much I loved it, and he was so thrilled that he PACKED ME A GENEROUS SAMPLE OF THE CALABRIAN CHILI OIL TO BRING HOME. I nearly passed out from Cleber’s kindness and generosity. In a city as big and packed with endless good restaurant options, sometimes hospitality takes a back seat to food and atmosphere, but most definitely not here.

Trying Calabrian chili oil today was also very good timing because I was just reading Samin Nosrat’s book Good Things, in which she includes a very labor-intensive, 20+ ingredient recipe for her Calabrian chili oil, which is essentially a mash-up of Italian (Calabrian), Sichuanese, Japanese, Mexican chili oils. The description sounds like it could potentially be the perfect chili oil. I was debating whether I really wanted to go to such lengths to make it, but I was intrigued because I’d never tried Calabrian chilies before, nor tasted their oil… until today. And now, I might actually be sold to put her Calabrian chili oil on my growing “project cooking” list.

Morning corn muffins gone awry

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This June will officially mark 18 years that I’ve been living in New York City. I have lived more of my life now on the East Coast than the West, and that feels kind of strange to acknowledge out loud. When people think of things that mark their new lives in a new place, especially in a concrete jungle like New York where tiny apartments and even tinier kitchens are the norm, most of them probably do not think about the kitchen gear they started with.

But I do. I still remember when I had to build my original kitchen from scratch, I slowly but surely made visits to the Kmart (RIP — one at Astor Place in Manhattan, which has since been replaced by the massive Wegman’s) and to Target at Queens Center Mall in Elmhurst, Queens. I remember some of my very first kitchen purchases quite fondly: my two tempered glass Anchor brand lasagna/casserole pans, my cheap $8 nonstick cookie sheets that lasted over 10 years, my Corelle dining set (with a design that I really dislike, but I was cheap at the time, so I got it since it was the cheapest option), and my standard sized metal 12-muffin tin.

I don’t have all those kitchen items anymore. Many I gave away, like some Corelle pieces that were duplicates of things Chris had when I moved in with him, or the smaller Anchor casserole pan that I rarely used (gifted to another friendly Buy-Nothing member!). The cookie sheets actually failed, warped, and somehow managed to snap in the oven — they literally went out with a bang — a pretty terrifying one! The muffin tin was heavily used when I lived in Elmhurst, but only sporadically since I moved to Manhattan. And then today, this 18-year-old muffin tin unfortunately saw its demise.

I got inspired to make muffins again during our recent May weekend up in the Finger Lakes/Ithaca with Chris’s parents. Along the way, we made a quick breakfast stop at this delicious, popular spot called Dottie Audrey’s Bakery + Kitchen. There, we ordered two perfectly made breakfast sandwiches, a walnut sticky bun, a sour cream coffee cake slice, and a huge, fat corn muffin stuffed with strawberry jam. While I loved everything we got from here, I will say that immediately, my first thought was that I wanted to try replicating the super crunchy corn top of the corn muffin. I loved the crunchy muffin top texture so much contrasted with the gritty, coarse, yet fluffy, not-too-sweet muffin innards. I remembered that a friend told me she used a blueberry corn muffin recipe she liked a lot from NYT Cooking, so I decided to go with that. The only swap I made was replacing half the all-purpose flour with whole wheat flour for extra whole grains.

Well, I didn’t have muffin liners, so I generously oiled the muffin tin and filled them with batter, then baked it. Unfortunately, the muffins didn’t beautifully dome the way I was hoping. Instead, they kind of flattened on top of the tin, and I realized immediately that I was going to have a frustrating (and messy!) time popping these muffins out. And it was super annoying: several of them broke apart as I removed them from the tin. One almost completely disintegrated into a pile of massive crumbs, and I ended up eating the crumbs by the handful. They were tasty, but they didn’t have a beautiful dome, and they were nowhere as crunchy as Dottie Audrey’s Bakery + Kitchen.

If we didn’t have Chris’s parents over as guests (or any guests for that matter), I’d never make muffins because Chris isn’t that into them, and I can’t bring myself to eat this many muffins. And then Kaia prefers the mini ones. Muffins are kind of like dessert to me: they are a special occasion-at-home bake like cake or cookies are. We need more mouths to warrant the effort to make them. But with this, I realized that the end of this muffin tin’s life had finally arrived. So after rinsing it, I said goodbye to it as I chucked it into the recycling bin (it’s metal, so it must be recyclable, right?!).

Now, I am debating whether I want to buy a replacement regular-sized silicone muffin plan, or if I should just live with a 6-muffin silicone pan I was gifted at graduation in 2008, plus the mini muffin pan I use for Kaia’s healthy muffin treats.

Osmanthus flower tea

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Today, my friend came over for an afternoon catch-up, and I suggested that we grab milk tea from TP Tea, which is owned by Chun Shui Tang, the original Taiwanese shop that is reputed as the original creators of bubble tea. It happens to be just a few blocks from my apartment, so she picked up an order for Chris’s parents and me on her way over. I chose the osmanthus oolong milk tea with house-made lychee jelly, 30 percent sweetness, and less ice.

I was thinking about my milk/bubble tea choices in the last year or so. I don’t get milk tea that often, though New York City has exploded with endless Chinese, Hong Kong, and Taiwanese franchises, with the biggest being HeyTea. But one type that has always been popular among Asians that I only recently got into was osmanthus tea. Osmanthus is a yellow fragrant flower that, similar to jasmine, is oftentimes added to tea or drunk on its own (like chrysanthemum). It’s very aromatic and oftentimes infused with green, black, or oolong tea leaves. It has an almost fruity taste. In Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM), it’s known for promoting relaxation, supporting digestion, and also delivering a high amount of antioxidants. I’m getting more into the non-tea fruity, floral flavors as of late. The tea isn’t always enough for me anymore, even if it is really good, fresh loose leaf, and high quality!

Not all mascarpone is made equally

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I was whipping up the heavy cream, powdered sugar, kesar mango pulp, and mascarpone cream for the mango tiramisu for my father-in-law’s birthday yesterday, and it suddenly dawned on me that something wasn’t quite right. I kept looking down into the bowl while mixing and wondering why there were tiny little white chunky blobs floating in my creamy mixture. And then… it hit me: the mascarpone cheese was not breaking up properly. I did the suggested thing of letting it sit on the counter for about 20-30 minutes before I mixed it, but that did not seem to help. And I was scared that if I kept using my hand mixer, it would turn my cream mixture into butter. So I eventually just relented and decided that I would continue assembling the mango tiramisu even with the uneven mango cream/mascarpone mixture.

When I served the mango tiramisu today, no one else seemed to notice the white chunky mascarpone bits. I noticed them in some bites, but I was at least relieved that overall, the chunks had melded in. I told my cooking friend about this, and she told me that she actually just read an article about how mascarpone is not all made equally. I advised her for the future that she should never, ever buy Whole Foods brand mascarpone cheese. I bought it in a rush to get the dessert ingredients in order in time, but normally, I would buy BelGioioso brand from Trader Joe’s, which always whips up easily. I checked with AI, and for future reference, Galbani and Ciresa brands are also supposed to be excellent, premium mascarpone brands to consider. Sorry, Whole Foods — you just didn’t cut it this time for me.

Unexpected finds: deals at Eataly!

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For our extended family gathering on Saturday at Chris’s mom’s cousin’s place, I originally had planned to make a mango tiramisu to bring over. Unfortunately, the two places walking distance from us were no longer selling ladyfingers, so I had to go with a Plan B option pretty quickly based on my pantry. And because my pantry is pretty well stocked, I had a lot of potential options. But I stuck with my mango theme and ended up making mango lassi butter mochi cake from one of my favorite food bloggers Milk and Cardamom, and it was a huge hit. Since I had to open a large can of kesar mango pulp, I had a lot of pulp leftover. I had already purchased the heavy whipping cream and mascarpone to make the tiramisu, and I didn’t really have the headspace to figure out how to repurpose them. So I decided that for Chris’s dad’s birthday coming up this Thursday that I would make my original dessert of mango tiramisu repurposed as his birthday cake. But that meant I had to find those damn ladyfingers.

Chris insisted I was overthinking it and told me just to buy them on Amazon. So I went on Amazon, found a decent brand from Italy, and purchased two 7 oz. packs of imported ladyfingers for… almost $20. Yes, I thought it was expensive, but I chocked it up to inflation. Chris saw the email receipt from Amazon and balked at the price, asking me why they were so expensive. I told him my rationale, and of course, he didn’t think it was enough. So he started doing searches on ladyfingers and somehow found out that Eataly right here in New York sold a 14 oz. pack of Italian ladyfingers for $7.99, so less than half of what I would have paid on Amazon. He cancelled my Amazon order, and yesterday, I went to Eataly Flatiron to check out the ladyfinger stocks.

I think the last time I stepped foot into an Eataly was pre-pandemic, so over six years ago. I have zero reason to go to Eataly because I usually get my Italian groceries from Little Italy in the Bronx, or at other Italian grocery/specialty stores. Eataly has always just been too packed and touristy for me to enjoy. I always hated going in there and feeling like a sardine; walking in there was never a comfortable experience. But walking in there today (at an off hour, obviously), I was pleasantly surprised. There were a few interesting sample stations set up to entice visitors to either order interesting new drinks or treats. There were also a good number of sales when it came to grocery items, whether it was cocoa-hazelnut spreads, Italian olive oils, pistachio cream spreads, and multiple types of Italian cookies. Then, I found the Eataly brand of ladyfingers, a 14-oz. bag, for even less than what Chris saw online — it was $6.49! So I ended up spending less than a third of what I would have spent if I had bought a similar product on Amazon. Who would have guessed that the cheapest ladyfingers I could find would be at Eataly of all places! I just assumed they would be more expensive there, but I was obviously very wrong. In addition, I picked up a jar of wild strawberry jam from an Italian brand that I hadn’t seen in years — also on sale!

Now that I had this positive experience at Eataly and saw so many interesting items on sale at pretty reasonable prices, I realize that I have more of a reason to occasionally pop in there to browse, especially since there is an Eataly in SoHo, not too far away from Kaia’s current school. So, maybe I will be more intentional about stopping in there when I am in the mood to browse Italian groceries. It’s always fun to find good deals on tasty things!

Two companies combining officially

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Yesterday, my company officially merged with another competitor. As we are all supposed to say, we are all “better, together” to create new possibilities. Today, we had an an official all hands meeting to welcome the first week as a newly combined company, so “watch parties” were set up across coworking spaces around the world for employees of both companies to congregate and celebrate over lunch. We have a good number of employees at both companies in New York City/New Jersey, so we got a coworking space in Midtown West today and I attended.

I will say that the overall turnout on my company’s side was pretty paltry; people at the other company far, far outnumbered us, and they’re the ones with the remote-first culture, whereas we actually have a 2-day-a-week-in-office policy assuming we live within a 50-mile radius of an official office space. They passed out cookies, socks, and had balloons decorating our part of the coworking space. A decent lunch spread was put out in the kitchen. I made some small talk with a few of the employees at the other company and chatted with one of my current colleagues I rarely see. But I also noticed that there were some people at my company who basically showed up just to “show face” and left almost immediately. They barely even said hi to me and other colleagues they are supposed to know. It was so strange and even borderline rude. What was the point of even coming if you weren’t at least going to try to talk to new people who are supposed to be your new colleagues?

I wonder if people being so weird and cagey in these types of temporary work settings is a lingering result of the pandemic, of preferring to be holed up inside one’s own apartment and not wanting to socialize at work unless it’s simply to socialize “up” to get ahead, or to get favors done for you. Some people, even with age, do not actually get more mature.