Category Archives: Conflict

Flight cancellation, terrible service, and an unexpected overnight stay in Charlotte

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I guess I spoke too soon. After five delay notifications and my flight getting pushed back to 8:30 from an original departure time of 3:50, AA officially cancelled the flight, stating that they did not have a complete flight crew and could not take this plane to Charlotte.

I immediately called the AA Executive Platinum desk. They said the earliest they could get me to Denver was 9pm tomorrow night. I would be missing an entire day (that’s 50 percent) of our entire program. I chatted with my manager, who suggested that I still come if I could fully participate in the sessions all day Thursday. Given our company’s getting acquired, this will be my company’s very last annual kickoff. If this weren’t the case, I might have seriously considered just going back to New York. But I wanted to be there for this, even half time, and I wanted to see my colleagues and attend Thursday night’s party. So I booked the flight tomorrow night. And as per usual because American Airlines’ service is just getting worse and worse, the phone agent told me the reason for the cancellation was “weather,” and so unless a gate agent gave me a hotel voucher, they could not give me a hotel voucher. It’s always fun when AA lies on paper about the real reasons for a flight cancellation, but then gives blazingly loud announcements at the gate that it’s due to lack of flight crew. I saw the line at each of the gates — it was over two dozen people long, and there was no way I was getting in one of those lines. My company can deal with my hotel. So, I got my corporate booking app to book me an airport hotel that I could stay at until tomorrow early evening.

I got a Lyft at Charlotte to the airport hotel. After already being infuriated by this whole debacle, I immediately got even more annoyed when I realized no car had a front license plate. People can talk all they want about states like New York and California being nanny states, but you know what? FRONT AND BACK LICENSE PLATES MAKE SENSE AND ARE LOGICAL. North Carolina is clearly backwards here. When you see a sea of black and grey vehicles, and your Lyft is a grey sedan, how the hell are you supposed to tell them apart? Do you want me to go behind the vehicle and check — that is so inefficient and insane.

So I found my car and went behind him to check his license plate. I got into the car, and I said to the driver as soon as I sat down, “Do you know how ridiculous it is that your state doesn’t require front license plates? How am I supposed to know it’s you in a massive sea of grey and black vehicles?”

He responds, laughing, “Oh, I LOVE that North Carolina doesn’t require a front license plate! It’s not necessary. You found me, didn’t you?”

There went his rating. And that was an automatic “no-tip.” I don’t care if it sounds ruthless. I just told him that I found it difficult to find him, and he basically said to me in his own words, with zero empathy, “I’m so happy it was hard for you to find me!”

And it only got worse. When i got to the hotel, the line was over two dozen people long. Only one person was at the desk. The line eventually grew to over 50 people. And after almost thirty minutes of waiting, another hotel employee miraculously showed up to split the line in two. I think all of the people servicing me tonight were competing to see who could be the absolute worst.

I’m not sure how worse this night could have been. Why does our annual kickoff almost always have to be in Denver, and in JANUARY? Would it never make logical sense to make it in San Francisco, our actual company headquarters where the weather is always mild and temperate….?!

The continued effects of Winter Storm Fern: Delayed flights, accidents on the road, and an endless customer service line at the airport

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I woke up this morning to Chris telling me that my first connecting flight was delayed (a sign of his love: he monitors my flights even when he’s not flying with me). So I’d need to really hustle and run when I landed in Charlotte because my connection time between landing and boarding for my flight to Denver would be just minutes. And given the way the connections work at CLT, I’d typically land in one concourse and have to go all the way to a separate concourse, which would take at least 8-11 minutes at my usual speed-walking pace.

En route to the airport, my driver and I witnessed three different car accidents, all completely preventable and due to the idiocy and carelessness of drivers on the road. “Look at these people!” my driver exclaimed, exacerbated. “They’re driving and not even paying attention! It’s like they don’t realize there is SNOW and ICE on the road! Why can’t people just slow down? You should have seen how many accidents I saw happen on the road yesterday — I lost count!”

After I boarded my first flight, I got a notification that my connecting flight was also delayed. This wasn’t the end of the world: this small delay would mean I wouldn’t have to rush to my next gate. But then the news just kept getting worse and worse: another delay came, followed by a third, and then a fourth. At this point, my arrival time changed from 5:40pm all the way to 8pm local time. I was supposed to have a 7pm dinner reservation with a former colleague I haven’t seen since pre-pandemic. She had moved from San Francisco to Denver several years ago. She changed the reservation to 8pm to accommodate my first delay. But by the time the final delay notification came, I realized it would be far too late to meet up with her tonight, especially given that it’s quite a distance from Denver airport into downtown, so it would take time. I had no idea what the road conditions would be there, nor what traffic would be like at that time. We agreed to cancel dinner but to try to find a small window to meet for coffee or tea in the next two days.

I was disappointed, but I know I didn’t have it that bad relatively speaking. Everywhere I walked through Charlotte airport, I was overhearing horror stories of people’s massively delayed flights, cancellations, and re-routes. One guy said his connecting flight changed three times. Another person said she got rebooked on a flight in another six hours. The American Airlines customer assistance line in my current concourse was so long that it almost went into the main atrium!

As long as I get there tonight, I’ll be fine. These are the woes of air travel immediately after a major winter storm.

Winter is cold, and getting even colder, plus a secret love of boots

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For years here in New York, winter hasn’t been a true “winter.” We haven’t had much snow relatively speaking due to global warming. December through March has been a milder weather period; it has always been cold, but just not as freezing as we expect. Snow has been sparse, so Kaia has had very few times to make and throw snow balls or build a snowman. But this winter, it has most definitely been cold. It snowed last weekend; the temperatures have been in the ‘teens and low twenties Fahrenheit. And Kaia is NOT a fan. As she is becoming more and more verbal by the day, she’s definitely making her opinions known.

She has protested almost every other day of boot wearing. “I don’t wanna wear boots! I wanna wear shoes!” She hates the high-top nature of the winter boots I bought her; she probably dislikes how her ankles can feel trapped in them. I can relate to that feeling, but I have since gotten used to wearing boots since moving to the East Coast.

Kaia told us multiple times this past week, “I don’t like winter. I want spring and summer. I want to wear sandals! I want it to be warm!” We agree with her; we also tell her that neither of us likes winter much, either. But winter does not last forever, and before she knows it, spring will be here, and she can shed all her thick layers and boots and wear regular shoes and dresses again.

I’ve adjusted to living in a four-season part of the country and world. I actually don’t mind it much. It does require more different types of clothing (and a very different skincare regimen in winter due to dryness!), but now that I’ve been here almost 18 years, this is my long-time current “normal.” One thing I have secretly embraced but never said out loud is that the best thing about living in a four-season place is that… I actually love boots! For someone who doesn’t like winter, this sounds kind of funny. But to be fair, most of my boots are autumn/winter boots, so it doesn’t necessarily have to be freezing cold to wear them. I still remember back in 2003 when the Wellesley recruiter came out from Boston to San Francisco, and she told me that she had at least ten pairs of boots — all for different types of cold/weather, occasion, and environment! My mind was boggled at the time when she shared this, but now, I completely understand. I myself have three different pairs of dressy boots, along with one pair of super casual, long Uggs (which I basically live in when it’s cold but not wet outside), one pair of rain/waterproof boots, and one pair of fall duck-style boots (which really need to be retired, after ten-plus years of wear, because I found out while in Denmark that one shoe has a hole in it!). So I have seven pairs of boots myself, which is kind of hilarious. I love all types of boots: I like the leather boots, the suede ones, the heeled ones, the flat ones. I like the Chelsea style boots, the tall knee-high ones, the slouch style boots, and even the chunky combat style ones. I could easily waste an hour on Nordstrom’s website staring at all their boots and wondering which ones would be comfortable and still look good in whatever weather. But then I think that if we end up moving to a warmer weather place, how often would I really wear all these boots, if at all?

Kaia doesn’t currently share my love of boots, but who knows — maybe she will embrace them as she realizes that you absolutely need these in cold weather climates. Or maybe she will shun them and refuse to ever live in a cold weather place ever again.

Unreliable childcare = situation normal in the U.S.

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Back in August, over a month before I confirmed and booked a restaurant for my 40th birthday dinner party coming up this Saturday, I reached out to our main babysitter who lives a block away to ask if she’d be able to babysit Kaia that night. She agreed and blocked it out on her calendar. And despite the fact that she confirmed she could come all the way back in August, I had this weird feeling in the back of my mind that something, somehow, would come up closer to January 17, and she would end up cancelling.

Unfortunately, my gut feeling was correct. I typically reach out to our chosen babysitter about a week ahead of the date they are scheduled to come to ensure they can still make it — just as a reminder. I texted her on Sunday and did not get a response until Monday morning, when she told me she could no longer come because her grandmother had died. It wasn’t clear what the timeline was for her grandmother’s passing, which is obviously sad, but all I knew was that I needed to find a replacement ASAP. And with less than a week’s notice, it would be a real challenge to find a replacement.

I immediately reached out to our #2 babysitter. She couldn’t make it because of her son’s basketball game. A third babysitter through Chris confirmed she also could not make it. I asked babysitter #2 if she could recommend anyone she trusted. She said that she had a 26-year-old daughter who has three kids of her own (and thus childcare experience) who she could ask if she would be free. She immediately found out she was, sent me her number, and we texted back and forth to confirm her pay rate, time, our address, and agreed to have her come.

Ideally, we’d have a babysitter come who knew Kaia, who Kaia knew. But in this case, we ran out of options. The three babysitters we usually cycle through were all unavailable. We have no backup care options through my work; Chris doesn’t work anymore, so his work benefit is long gone. We have no grandparents nearby. So we’re constantly at the whim of babysitters who can easily flake on us at any time, with zero notice. And then we’re stuck. In these moments, I get frustrated that reliable, trustworthy, affordable childcare is such a challenge and impossibility here. It feels like a no-win situation. And then I can’t help but get annoyed by people I know who do have able bodied, mentally sound grandparents nearby who can help (for free), yet they still complain about their free childcare all the time. No one is ever satisfied with what they have.

Security in Australia and New Zealand vs. the U.S.

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I’ve only ever lived in the U.S. across three different cities. i had only one flight before 9/11, which means that the idea of not going through a security checkpoint before reaching an airport gate is a pretty foreign or unknown concept to me. When we went to Thursday night’s Wankernomics show at Hamer Hall, which is the largest indoor venue at the Arts Centre Melbourne, I felt a little bit weird entering the concert hall and not going through any kind of security whatsoever. There was no line to get in. There were no metal detectors or security guards to pat you down or go through your purses and bags. There were people selling refreshments at the food stands, and of course employees checking tickets when you entered the actual performance area. But that was it.

Chris went to go buy some drinks for us, and I just stood there in amazement, watching dozens and dozens of people entering this huge concert hall — chatting, laughing, eating, sipping drinks — completely carefree. They have no idea how lucky they are to just assume that they will be safe, that there’s no reason to have a metal detector or a security check to enter the facility, that no one could come in with a deadly weapon. I even commented on this to Chris, and he kind of chuckled and just said, “Yeah, we’re not in the U.S. There aren’t guns here.”

It also made me think of doing domestic flights within Australia. Every time we’ve done this, I always have to remind myself that I don’t need to obsess about liquid bottles being under 100ml, which also means that if we are traveling to a popular wine region, we can actually buy and bring back to Melbourne a bottle of wine or two, all in our carry-on luggage. There are no liquid limits. When we enter the airport in Australia for domestic travel, there is a security check, but in New Zealand, you can just walk on in to the gate, and you’re pretty much all set to just show your boarding pass and walk on the plane! People just wait right at the gate to greet their loved ones! That is like the U.S. pre-9/11!

Everyone’s “normal” is very different. My “normal” of going to a U.S. airport for a domestic flight is very different vs. an Australian or New Zealander boarding a domestic flight in their respective countries. My experience of entering a major performing arts venue will also be very different than theirs. I kind of laughed in my head at my surprise/shock of going through Hamer Hall and not dealing with security… because it made me realize how American I am, how I just assume that society in general is low-trust, and that doing a metal detector/security check should probably just be done. But that experience is the only experience I’ve known to date (since the Wankernomics performance is the only show I’ve been to outside of the U.S. that I can recall), and once again, you know what you know, and you don”t know what you are not yet exposed to.

Vir Das in “Hey Stranger” at the Claire Tow Theater, Lincoln Center

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Oftentimes, when people think of the Lincoln Center, they think of huge theaters like David Geffen Hall or David Koch Theater. But there are smaller theaters within Lincoln Center that perhaps have less name recognition that are fun, classy, and intimate, with a seating layout that ensures you are pretty close to the performers and would have zero reason to squint to see them. Vir Das, one of our favorite comedians from Mumbai, is here doing his “Hey Stranger” show at the Claire Tow Theater at the Lincoln Center. He’s the first Indian performer to star in a show at Lincoln Center, so this was a pretty big deal. We went with my friend and her husband to see his show last night, and it was ninety minutes of near-crying laughing, but also with lots of serious moments spread throughout.

One personal thing he revealed during the show was that given the topics he covers in his comedy, he’s more and more not welcome home in India by the government, so he feels like he has no choice but to leave. And the U.S. has offered him a green card. Many people would see this as incredible, but for him, he’s quite torn. Moving to and living in America would mean… he’d ultimately become a different person. His comedy would not be the same. His identity would change. And he wasn’t sure he would like it that much. And we all know he’d end up being grouped with other brown comedians like Hasan Minhaj or Russell Peters, who are definitely talented in their own right, but their comedy is not the same as his. His jokes are what they are because he’s not in America living an American life. He can be critical about America from an outsider’s lens. And his comedy is all that much smarter for it because he has a bird’s eye view of how crazy and insane this place really is. Where you call “home” really defines us in ways we may not fully be aware, but he’s thinking about it long and hard now.

I honestly don’t want him to move here because I love what he says and produces just as he is, where is is from. He provides an intelligent, authentic voice that would not be the same if he lived here. But hey, what does my opinion matter? I’m just another fan of his living life in the U.S. He has his livelihood to consider, and he also has to pay bills and try his best to stay out of jail just for simply having opinions and speaking. Being a comic is hard, and he’s showing exactly how hard it is to do that job while living in India and having Indian citizenship.

Another year, another sickness

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The most amazing things about years 2020 and 2021 are that I never got sick, even a single time. In 2020, I was isolated from pretty much the entire world, so who was going to get me sick? In 2021, we were technically still in COVID times, but I was still fairly isolated. Then I got pregnant and had Kaia. And I was still in the clear. Then 2022 came and the world was open and free again. Chris went to Chicago for a big work conference, came back and gave baby Kaia and me COVID. My milk supply (temporarily, thank God) plummeted for those days, and I still remember every pumping session was painful and so sweaty that I had to change my top and air out my pumping bras each time. After he got back, he learned that over a dozen of his colleagues went home with COVID. He never tested positive, so he annoyingly claims, to this day, that since he never tested himself, he never had it.

In early 2023, Kaia caught Hand Food Mouth from a friend in the play room, and then gave ME my first case of HFM. I had it worse than she did. In the spring of that year, she got sick, and I got really sick, too, AGAIN: I was sick on and off for at least a month. I was so miserable, with my violent coughing fits. I went to see a primary care physician, a respiratory specialist, and even a gastroenterologist just in case. I took lung capacity tests and even a scan of my lungs for anything potentially more serious (all came back negative for problems). No one could give me any answers for why I was having these coughing fits. I still don’t know why I get them now.

Then memorably in November 2024, so about a year ago, I got a peritonsillar abscess as a result of getting hit by two rare strains of first the flu, and THEN strep throat. Because both hit me at the same time, an abscess developed on my left tonsil about three times the size of a quarter. Ever since that happened, I told myself I seriously needed to isolate myself and stay the hell away from anyone remotely sick. Although I am not sick anywhere as often as my colleagues who have young children, when I do get sick, I get REALLY sick, and I hate being nonfunctional. Inefficiency is one of the things that pisses me off the most.

About two weeks ago, I could feel a sore throat coming on. I did all the things I was recommended: daily salt gargle, daily evening nasal saline rinse, all the ginger-lemon tea. I even added a few TCM teas into the mix, like apple-fig-apricot kernel and ginger-aged tangerine peel-honey. While I clearly had a cold because I had some congestion and a cough, I was fully functional for the last week and a half. I did everything I’d originally planned to do and worked every day. I just skipped a few mornings at the gym. It felt like a standard, mild cold. I could deal with that. Then, we had two friends over for lunch on Sunday. I thought I’d wake up Monday morning being 100 percent. No, I did not: I woke up with a scratchier throat, a sharper cough, and more phlegm than I’d had the previous week. I had no idea what was going on. Today, I basically moved any meeting where I had to speak a lot, or joined meetings camera-off when I could, because my cough and phlegm were so bad. Chris got me some soup, and I increased my hot liquid intake and took a long, steamy shower.

I keep maniacally checking my uvula to ensure it hasn’t deviated. It has not, fingers crossed. I also keep checking to see if I have any weird spots in my throat. I just want to be a regular person who gets a minor cold and then it goes away. Why is that so much to ask? In my twenties, I almost never took real “sick leave” because my colds were so minor that I’d just sleep them off. Now into my late thirties, it’s as though my body says, nah, you can’t have it easy anymore! Now, you have to suffer because you’re getting older and you have a child, muah hahaha!

Kaia tried to wake me up earlier than I wanted this morning, and I told her to be nice to mama because she’s not feeling well. She pat me on the head and said, “Mama, why are you sick?”

“That’s a good question, Pookie,” I said back to her. “Why am I sick? Is it because of you?!”

The Nor’easter that postponed this year’s AFSP Out of the Darkness Manhattan walk

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On our Wednesday evening Walk committee call, everyone was wondering about whether we should be postponing the Manhattan walk this Sunday given the weather report citing a Nor’easter on its way to us. For those who are not located in the northeast of the U.S., a “nor’easter” is a large-scale extratropical cyclone in the western North Atlantic Ocean. The name comes from the direction of the winds that blow from the northeast. Usually, storms like this go for over a hundred miles and can result in flight delays/cancellations, as well as large wind and flooding advisories. Every time you hear about this in the news, it’s probably a good idea to stay indoors and not be walking along a waterfront in lower Manhattan. On that evening, we said we would still have the event, rain or shine… until the city came to us and strongly advised us to postpone the walk until November 9 due to wind and flooding advisories. Since the Walk would be on the waterfront at Pier 16/17 at the Seaport, it was just too risky to put all of our volunteers and walkers in a potentially messy weather situation. It was likely a good call; I wasn’t sure how many people would come with the nor’easter in the weather report. Plus, this is actually Columbus Day/Indigenous People’s Day weekend, so many people who would have attended the walk were already planning to be out of town. We’ll be in town November 9, so when our co-chair called to let me know, I told him we’d still be at the postponed event next month.

All I could think when I saw the weather reports about the impending nor’easter was: how ridiculous is it that I’ve been participating in this same walk for the last 12 years, and this is the first year that weather is a problem. There were only two years when I was not physically there: the first was 2020 when the walk was completely virtual due to COVID-19 precautions. The second time was in 2022 when Chris and I had a communication snafu, and he booked an autumn Delaware road trip the same weekend as the Manhattan walk. So the one year I finally join the Walk committee and am officially volunteering at the event, it gets postponed due to weather. Oh well – c’est la vie.

Either way, we still had our usual Saturday outing. We spent the grey, drizzly day in Park Slope indulging in handmade campanelle pasta, a number of Chinese-French fusion pastries at our beloved Breadivore, and then admiring all the Halloween decorations already up at many of the neighborhood brownstones. Once the weather cleared up a bit later in the afternoon, Kaia spent time running and climbing at the huge Washington Park Playground in the ‘hood while I explored the tents at the fiber (yarn!) festival surrounding it. I’m still happy the walk is postponed as opposed to cancelled. I’m proud of the two TV segments I got to be on to represent AFSP and share why I walk. So regardless, this year’s participation is definitely a win for me personally — and the walk hasn’t even happened yet!

Commentary on the evolving definition of “etiquette” or “manners”

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I had two onsite meetings at the same company downtown today. So instead of my usual work-from-home routine, I actually had to get dressed to meet customers in person and was out the door this morning for in-person meetings starting at 11am. I try to get to onsite meetings well in advance of the actual start time for multiple reasons. First, as a sales leader I worked with at a previous company said, “If you are not fifteen minutes early, then you are fifteen minutes late.” Secondly, a lot of buildings have security protocol like government ID checks, bag scanners, metal detectors, etc., that they need to go through before they let you through their doors or into their elevator banks. And thirdly, it’s always good to get to a meeting early, feel composed, straighten out your shirt/wipe off sweat/use the restroom well in advance of the official start time. But when I met my three colleagues at the check-in desk today at 10:40, one of my colleagues had a look of disappointment on his face and asked if I had checked my email in the last two minutes. I had not. He told us that our main stakeholder, who had actually invited us to this onsite meeting, simply emailed and said he was not going to be in the office today, and gave the first name and phone number of the person who should get us in and check us through security.

All of us were shocked and dumbfounded. It was so rude to be told about 20 minutes ahead of an in-person meeting that our host would not be showing up. And for me, it was even more rude to a) not apologize, b) not give any reason for the sudden change in plan, or c) express zero remorse or regret. It was beyond ridiculous. Either way, we went ahead with our onsite meeting; 16 people ended up coming from their side, so it was certainly not a wasted effort. But the whole thing left a really bitter taste in my mouth and did not make me feel good about this person.

I later texted Chris to tell him what happened. And he said that yes, it was terrible, but it was not simply poor manners; it was just flat out unprofessional. This person has most likely done this with other professionals in his time in the workforce, so this would not be an isolated incident. It’s just really upsetting to hear that people actually think it’s okay to operate like this. It should not matter if it’s your boss, your peers, your vendor partners, your friends — this behavior should not be acceptable, period.

It made me think about the concept of “etiquette” or “manners,” and how people seem to be so loosey goosey and nonchalant about things like this today as though it’s not a big deal. And it reminded me of a conversation I had with my friend earlier this week, when she told me that she spent several hours writing out recommendations on how to change the pitch deck of her friend’s new organization (this would be fully unpaid work, done as a favor for her friend) given her work background… and the friend never thanked her or even gave an acknowledgment of receipt of the work. It really upset my friend, as this happened over two weeks ago, and she was still fuming about it.

Sometimes, I think I might be “getting old(er)” for even getting annoyed at things like this. But these things aren’t done by people younger than me; they are usually around my age or in this customer’s case, clearly much older. So it’s really not about age. It’s about a general lack of etiquette and sense of professionalism, or even common decency, that apparently we’re just supposed to “accept” today.

Under mom’s control

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Sometimes, certain objects, images, conversations, or current moments remind me of things from the past that I thought I’d forgotten, but were just buried deep into the back of my psyche that it’s almost like I chose to forget them. And there’s probably a reason I might have subconsciously chosen to forget: they were not healthy and likely did not serve me well at all.

In the few weekend days I’ve been at my parents’ house, I was reminded of how controlling my mom was even with the most basic things. If she knew that Ed or I was home and even when she and our dad had their keys (which is… always), she’d ring the bell multiple times and demand that we open the door. If we didn’t come within seconds, she’d ring the bell multiple times at once, indicating her impatience. And by the time we got to the door to buzz her in, she’d lash out at us and asked what took so long, as though we were just standing by the door idly, simply waiting at her beck and call to let her in right away. If she needed help with anything, whether it was with something that went wrong with an appliance, clearing dishes from the dish rack, or even locating a missing Tupperware lid, she’d yell one of our names and expect us to come to her immediately and do exactly as she said. It wouldn’t matter if we were on the toilet, in the bathroom, studying, reading, or really anything — she always expected us to drop everything that very second and do exactly as she wanted. And if we didn’t, she’d rush us, yell at us to come right away, and then get angry that we didn’t come fast enough. “I called you several times,” she’d say in her icy tone. “Didn’t you hear me?” It was infuriating as a child into my teen years, and I really started resenting it in my college and then post-college years. And this time, Chris noticed it. “Why is she ringing the bell when they have their keys?” he asked, annoyed, as I was helping out with Kaia as he was washing her up. “We’re in the middle of something. She has a key and can let herself in!”

That’s the thing, though. Nothing we ever did mattered, and she didn’t care if we were in the “middle” of anything. Everything we did had to revolve around her and what she did and wanted. And it seems that she operates like that now with her Jehovah’s Witness “brothers and sisters.” She doesn’t have any kids under her roof to control anymore, so I guess she had to move onto another group, which is her JW crew, all of whom have no spine to stand up to her. A JW friend of mine in her congregation revealed that my mom is even controlling about which seats people sit in when she’s in one of their cars, which is one of the stupidest and most senseless things ever.

It’s okay, though. Oftentimes in the last ten years to be passive aggressive back, I just ignore her when she calls me and expects me to come right away. Depending on what I am doing, I let her call my name anywhere from six to ten times before I actually come. She can wait until I am done with what I am doing. I am not in a rush for her. And when she gets mad now at this, I am just indifferent to her face.

My mom also loves leaving bedroom doors locked, but she gets angry when we lock the doors. She constantly would lock her bedroom door while I was in the house. She insisted it was because Kaia kept coming in to mess up things, to take their candy (why are there bowls of candy in their room, anyway…?!), but I think it’s because she just didn’t want to expose all the crap she stores and hoards in there. But if we locked the door because we were changing clothes, she’d get mad and passively aggressively say in yet another cold tone, “There’s no reason to lock the door.” Actually, there is, since she and my dad have zero sense of what the word “boundaries” mean, and they constantly open bedroom and bathroom doors without ever knocking or asking. I think we’ve lost count of the number of times both of them have walked in on Chris. I don’t believe in bedroom door locks (they seem very excessive to me: once you have broken into someone’s home, what’s stopping them from breaking your bedroom door lock?!), but I use them in my parents’ house because I know if I don’t, they will walk in on us at the most inopportune times.

My mom has always liked to pack me food when I go back to the East Coast even when I’ve told her I don’t need anything or I don’t have luggage space. I know food is a big love language for her, so usually I try to humor her and take what I can. But sometimes, she legitimately just buys too much stuff, and I have to be honest and say I don’t have the space. She called me while we were at the playground on Saturday to tell me she bought six zongzi (THAT IS A LOT) and wanted me to take them back to New York. I told her I didn’t think I’d have the space for all of them, but I could maybe fit two or three. She got really angry at this and responded, “Okay, okay, fine! You do what you want! I am not the troublemaker here, so you just do what you want!” and then hung up. The irony of this statement is that in more cases than not, my mom is most definitely the “troublemaker,” but she not only refuses to see it, but almost no one in her life is willing to call her out on it. It’s only in the extreme cases, like when she tried to endanger my daughter’s life, that I have to yell at her and call her out on her genuine bullshit. And even then, it still doesn’t get into her head.

It’s okay, though. Once I leave their house and go back to my new and adopted home of New York, I get back to my own calm and slowly forget all that stupid and unnecessary trauma from the past… and then get reminded of it once I step foot in that house again the next time. And then again, I feel grateful I was able to escape and live my own life free of their control and toxicity.