Last year, I was really unhappy with myself when I booked five consecutive days of work travel. I felt bored on my own for the most part and although I was eating decently well, I wasn’t really enjoying myself very much. I promised myself I’d never do that again, and then here we go, almost a year later, when I have literally done that to myself again, with travel to Orlando this Thursday-Friday, then Chicago Sunday through Tuesday, and finally a day trip out to the boondocks of New Jersey via Amtrak for Wednesday. That’s nearly six days of travel with only one day of a break in between.

I am not necessarily at the beck and call of customers now since I no longer work at a agency, but in these moments, I feel like my schedule has been taken over by someone else.

I’m not a great jokester. I would say I certainly have a sense of humor, and I definitely laugh a lot and say silly things pretty often, but I’m not the kind of person who plays pranks on others and derives joy from that. But for those who do find joy in playing pranks, there’s always April Fool’s Day as a “holiday” to mark an entire day of pranks.

One somewhat amusing prank I saw posted was a colleague of mine having a text conversation with her husband. There’s a fashion jewelry brand she loves that has a bracelet she’s been eyeing for a long time… that costs over $6,500. She texted him and said something along the lines of, “I’m finally using my bonus to treat myself!” And then sent him a screen shot of this bracelet with the price. He didn’t believe it at all and said it was so predictably false, especially given the day of the year.

I’m pretty certain if I did something like that with Chris, his response would simply be, “Out the door.”

The greatest thing about spring’s arrival is that I know warm weather and travel for pleasure are just around the corner. The worst thing about spring’s arrival is that I know that my favorite winter squashes will no longer be available, and that instead, the only squashes to be seen at the farmer’s market or any grocery store will be summer squash… which I have never enjoyed and think are some of the most boring things to eat in the world. I’m somewhat scarred by a summer squash I once bought for soup that I pureed and later discovered was more bitter than actual Asian bitter melon. I ended up throwing the entire soup away because I found it inedible. That was a huge waste of effort.

So today, I bid farewell to winter by cooking butternut squash for the last time. Granted, it’s the last day of March, which means we’re technically already in spring, but I made a dish on my to-make list that I’ve been wanting to do all winter: butternut squash Mac and cheese made with my own pureed and roasted butternut squash, with Banza chickpea pasta shells.

I don’t do pasta that often at home, nor do I do pasta bakes, but this baked pasta with a broiled end was enough to make me re-think how seldom I do this. It was relatively simple and didn’t even require that much work, yet it yielded a very satisfying and filling result.

Tonight, we went to the Women’s Project Theater in the Upper West side to see the show Hatefuck… or Hatef**k, or Hatefk, depending on how able you are to digest profane language. The show tells the story of a very intense and opinionated literature professor who accuses a best-selling novelist of trading in anti-Muslim stereotypes in exchange for fame and fortune. They are both Muslim of varying degrees, but despite their initial clashing, they end up finding themselves attracted to each other. The play begs the question of… how much are you willing to do in order to have your voice heard? How far are you willing to go in order to be paid well and “respected,” even if that means portraying your own people in a way that is not actually true?

There’s a very powerful scene where the professor and the novelist are yelling at each other, and the novelist says to her that people of their color do not have the right to complain about things like sexual harassment or mistreatment, that that is what only white people have the luxury and privilege of doing. They have to take every chance they get and suck up everything else because they have no choices, and that given that white people have the majority of the power in the world we live in, sometimes you have to accommodate and pander to what they want in order to have your voices heard, because otherwise, who will give you the chance? Your own people don’t have the power to give you that chance, but the white people do, so are you really going to pass that rare opportunity up?

That was probably one of the most depressing scenes I’ve seen in theater in a long time… Because it is so true.

Luke’s Lobster has become itself a mini chain not just here in New York City since I’ve moved here, but has expanded even beyond New York. You can now find a Luke’s Lobster that is walking distance of my company’s office in the financial district/South of Market area in San Francisco. It is no longer unique, and in fact, now, it is ubiquitous. So when colleagues at work say that they are doing a group order for Luke’s Lobster on Fridays, most Fridays, I opt out, but today, I decided to include myself… and was partially in regret at the end.

The rolls are small and a bit sad, even if the bun is quite tasty and well buttered and toasted. And while the lobster is coming from Maine, it never feels as exciting to have a lobster or a crab roll in a place where the lobster or crab isn’t actually from. Having them in places like Maine, Nova Scotia, and Prince Edward Island actually felt special because you knew that these little crustaceans were caught and cooked locally. They were cheaper because of it, too. Here in New York, you’d never trust any fish or crab from the water around here.

And then, as I thought this, I had a pang of guilt given my privilege for having traveled to all these lobster and crab destinations. But then that begged the question of: why should I feel guilty at all about this when I’m surrounded by a bunch of other privileged people in tech at the same lunch table who earn good money, have solid jobs, and have even more insane benefits? Is that guilt even warranted at this table?

I was one of the very last people hired on my team about two years ago who just had to do 1:1 interviews as part of my interview process, so no mock business reviews or presentations were required of me. Instead, after I started and had to go through product certifications, the final round of my onboarding was a mock business review meeting with fellow colleagues on my team, who would critique my presentation, discovery, and mock interaction with them as though this was a real customer meeting.

I’m pretty grateful for the fact that I didn’t have to do that because now, as someone who is interviewing potential candidates, I am truly pained watching prospective employees do mock business presentations. Thinking about the amount of prep work, Powerpoint finagling, and practice in public speaking makes me want to crawl into a ball and hide under my sheets. It’s not like I have an issue with presenting or speaking in meetings; it’s rather that the idea of a “simulated” or “mock” meeting drives me crazy. There are so many hypotheticals that go into the evaluation that you could easily get rated poorly when you actually did a great job, and vice versa.

Also, there’s a lot of randomness on our side, too, as the people who are evaluating. We have to make up “facts” on the spot to actually make this a meeting where conversations happen. This is when I have to catch myself from laughing or smiling too much because we’re literally lying as we go.

I met my friend for dinner tonight at the Canal Street Market, where we shared steamed rice noodle rolls, ceviche, and shaved ice. While I am not completely a fan of food markets for the sake of food markets, especially when a lot of food markets nowadays tend to be extremely expensive, Canal Street Market does a pretty good job of having reasonable price points and a varied selection of food. It’s not just Asian food here — they even have a token salad stall and a ceviche stall.

I thought about Joe’s Steamed Rice Roll, which I shared two of with my friend tonight, and which I just had a couple weeks ago in their original location in Flushing. It makes me happy to think about these small food businesses that started so small and humble in Flushing, and having made it and attracted endless lines and waits, have moved into Manhattan and even have their own branding. That reminded me of how big Xi’an Famous Foods has become, as well, also having started in a tiny food stall in a nondescript basement in Flushing. When there’s nothing else, there is still hope for good and delicious food.

Our friends in Sacramento came to visit this week and came over for brunch today. Even though it’s been a year since we last saw them, not a lot has changed for us. We’re still doing the things we always do: living in the same apartment, experimenting with different recipes in the kitchen, eating out, theater, work, work travel, and fun travel. On their end, while they’re fully settled into their new home they bought in Sacramento, it’s been a lot of family life for them given they have family nearby, and not as many friends. They haven’t spent as much time looking for new friends because most of their out-of-work time is either spent with each other after work or with family on weekends. Family time really is their social time now.

For myself, I don’t really mind not being that close to any family. I guess I have one cousin in New York, but he’s not a desirable person to spend social time with. I kind of like that when we visit our family in San Francisco and Melbourne that it feels like a special time because we’re not always there. You’re no longer special and prioritized when you live in the same place with someone, right?

A couple friend of ours who relocated to northern California last year are in town this week for work, and so they invited themselves (well, they knew we’d agree if we were also in town) over for Sunday brunch. I got excited since we haven’t seen them in about a year since they relocated to Sacramento, but I also got excited because it meant I’d have another opportunity to try out some new recipes. Since I got my Instant Pot, I knew I wanted to test out the “yogurt” incubator mode to make dosa/idli batter. Dosa and idli are made from the exact same fermented batter; the only difference is that the idli batter is the fermented batter as it is once it’s finished rising, while the dosa batter is idli batter that is thinned out with water. This helps with getting it nice and crispy when you fry it on a pan to make a super thin crepe. Dosa batter, traditionally, doesn’t use any real learners like yeast or baking soda; it relies completely on the fermentation coming from the urad dal lentils, rice, and methi seeds. This failed the last time I tried it last year, and the batter never rose, and I had thick crappy pancakes to eat for a whole week because I didn’t want to throw out the batter (wasted food is the enemy in my house). So, I don’t know if it’s the problem of the air in this apartment or what, but I’m hoping the Instant Pot incubating mode can resolve my worries.

I took one of my customers out to lunch today, and one of the members of the team is planning a two-week-long vacation to Japan, visiting multiple cities both urban and in the countryside. I asked him where he was going, and given his interests, I suggested he add Hiroshima to the list. It’s strange to me to hear about Americans visiting Japan, some multiple times, and never expressing any desire to go to Hiroshima, the city that this country decided to flatten and decimate within seconds at the end of World War II. I don’t want to be openly judgmental about it, but I try to be effusive when I recommend it from a historical and empathetic perspective. Don’t we as Americans have a responsibility to know what we did to this group of innocent people during one of the major world wars? And aside from that, Hiroshima is a beautiful city with Miyajima Island, a beautiful half- or full-day trip away, as well as the delicious local oysters and okonomiyaki. To me, it’s a win-win to add this city to one’s Japan itinerary.

I gave him my 2-minute pitch, and at the end of it, he said, “I’m sold. Send me all your recommendations there, and I’ll retinker my itinerary.”

That’s what I can sell without even trying: food and and travel.