Fashionista – everywhere in the U.S. except in New York City

I’ve been called a lot of adjectives, positive and negative, over the course of my life. But “fashionable” or “trendy” are not words that I had ever been called until I started working at my last company. When I used to travel to my last company’s headquarters in San Francisco, I would usually be the most dressed up person in a meeting or conference room. I’d walk through a sea of hoodies, Patagonia fleeces, or North Face pullovers. This was also the case while walking on the streets of downtown San Francisco. It’s almost as though no one even attempted to look nice for work and just wanted to give the “I don’t care what I am wearing” vibe off. Everyone just wanted to look like everyone else! It wasn’t even like I was wearing expensive or tailored clothing; I’d just happen to be wearing a dress or a skirt, and everyone would shower me with compliments on how pretty my outfit was. Then, at my current company, we had a team offsite last year in San Francisco. On my team, I was voted one of the most fashionable, which I found laugh-out-loud funny, as that could not be farther from the truth.

I was reminded of this when I went out for coffee yesterday morning in downtown Denver with a colleague. We were at a coffee shop and grabbed our lattes when they were ready. And as we walked out, a woman almost chased me out to tap me on my shoulder.

“Hey! Sorry to bother you, but I absolutely love your boots!” the woman nearly squealed. “Where did you get them from? They are so cute!”

I thanked her for the compliment and told her that they were from Nordstrom and are actually Nordstrom brand, and I’d purchased them last year during a Black Friday sale. Unfortunately, I couldn’t say I got them from some exotic, foreign place custom made and designed, though I’m sure that would have sounded very impressive. She thanked me for letting her know, and my colleague and I went on our merry way back to our workshop.

“No one ever thinks I am fashionable in New York,” I told my colleague from Texas. “I am only ‘fashionable’ when I go to other U.S. cities!”

Uniquely female burdens

Last year when I was in Denver for work, I got an unexpected message from a friend’s friend saying that she and her family had actually moved here from New York, and that she’d like to catch up if possible. Unfortunately at that time, all my evenings were packed with pre-booked work events, so I wasn’t able to get away. It was a bit unexpected, to be frank, that she reached out. While I’d never really considered her a friend while in New York, I did see her from time to time at mutual friends’ events, and we did get along. We’d tried hanging out once before with our partners, but we never did much more than that. So when she reached out, I figured she was having a difficult time transitioning from urban to suburban life, coupled with transitioning into motherhood (her daughter is about six months younger than Kaia). She probably wanted to see a familiar face.

So this time ahead of this trip, I reached out to see if she could meet. We did have a decent amount in common on paper: we both love food, desserts, travel, and now we’re both mothers, so we’d have that to bond over. She immediately accepted and we made plans for dinner, which ended up happening last night. I was really touched; she actually drove almost an hour to see me (Denver traffic can be crazy during rush hour), and we spent three hours discussing marriage, motherhood, work, travel, moving, and life in general. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her, but it felt really good to have a deep chat… and to get away from colleagues for a night.

Sometimes, I think about all the trials and tribulations that women have to go through just to procreate, and I cannot believe that women still want to bear children. This friend had three miscarriages: two happened before her daughter was conceived; the third happened last year, before her current pregnancy. Miscarriages are more common than they are not, but her first one was particularly traumatic. At around 11 weeks of pregnancy, she started bleeding profusely. She drove herself to the hospital, where they confirmed she had miscarried. She was given the option of having a dilation and curettage (D&C) to remove the dead fetal tissue from her uterus, or letting it expel itself naturally. Her father, who is a doctor, advised her against the D&C, and suggested she just go home and let it happen naturally. Well, it just got worse from there: the next two days, everything she sat or lied on was soaked with pools of blood, and she basically laid on her bathroom floor most of that time, experiencing painful contractions for almost 48 hours. These are one of those scary miscarriage stories that no one warns you about, that for some women when they have miscarriages, regardless of whether it’s first trimester or not, they can actually go into labor.

The thought is just beyond sad and excruciating — to go through labor without seeing a living, breathing baby at the end. I think of all the women who have had stillbirths, where they know their fetus is dead, but they still have to go through the labor and “give birth” to a dead baby. The mere thought brings me to tears. And somehow, even after this horrible and painful experience, this friend kept trekking along to try to conceive. She went on to experience a second miscarriage, a viable pregnancy and birth and baby, and then a THIRD miscarriage, and finally a second viable pregnancy, and she’s still here and excited to be pregnant. It just shows how much burden women have to bear, literally on their own, and how resilient we all are. It takes a lot emotionally, mentally, physically, to go through all this stress and loss. It likely raises cortisol levels and puts you on the defensive for everything. In the end, we vacillate between surviving and thriving.

But it sounds like since she’s moved down to the southern suburbs of Denver, she’s been mostly in survival mode. She has no friends here. She works fully remotely. She has a sister and their family who live in a nearby suburb, but that’s it. She misses walking (people drive everywhere here, like in most of the U.S.) and going from store to store to restaurant by foot. She feels isolated and like she does 90 percent-plus of all the child rearing. When she saw me for dinner last night, it was the only time since they’d moved here that she’d actually gone out to dinner, alone without her daughter, to catch up with a friend. While she’s excited for her second baby, she’s terrified what it will mean for the division of labor at home, her marriage, and the effect it will have on her daughter, who is extremely attached to her and who has had an assortment of frustrating health issues since birth.

I hear these stories, and I realize even more how lucky I am. Although IVF was certainly no walk on the beach, I went through just one stimulation cycle. I’ve never had a physically painful miscarriage experience (though I do still mourn my “vanishing twin”). I had a straightforward pregnancy and child birth. I was lucky and privileged to have a healthy, easy-going baby in Kaia Pookie. Kaia Pookie, knock on wood, is still thriving and impressing (while simultaneously infuriating) Chris and me every single day with all she learns and knows. I’m also lucky to have a partner who has done his share and tries to make sure I’m not carrying all the burden of child rearing. At the same time, it makes me sad and angry that women who are as smart, accomplished, well educated, and confident like this friend still allow themselves to be put into situations where they have to bear the brunt of all stereotypical gender roles, such as child rearing and the mental load of maintaining a functional household – much against their own wishes. Are men really that ill equipped for the current century, or are women just so desperate to have heterosexual partners to procreate with that we “settle” in that regard?

Back in the “Mile High City”

For the last three years, I’ve come to Denver once a year in Q1 for work. The last two years, it has been for my company’s annual sales and success kickoff. This year, it’s for my company’s go-to-market value selling workshops. We’ve always been based in downtown Denver for these events, and so it’s given me time to walk around and see what’s here, especially since the last time I was here was in November 2012 with Chris. The first year I came for work in 2023, I walked up and down downtown, and it was like a ghost town. It didn’t matter if it was peak lunch time or around early dinner time/get-off-work time, but I barely saw anyone on the streets. It felt pretty eerie. Last year when I came, there was a bit more life. I definitely wasn’t totally alone, but it was still quiet. This year as I’ve walked the streets in the morning and during lunch time, it actually felt like a semi-busy downtown. I saw lots of people having coffee, at cafes, grabbing lunch with colleagues, coming in and out of office buildings.

I always make sure to do morning workouts while traveling for work and stick with my usual exercise routine as much as possible, so I brought my workout gear. This morning, I went up to the top floor gym, where the hotel had a large, separate yoga room that was flooded with natural light. Although I do a semi-rigorous workout every weekday, which consists about 30-40 minutes of cardio and 30-40 minutes of strength/pilates/barre, here, I could actually feel that I was “mile high.” The last two years, I didn’t feel the altitude, but this year, I was breathing much harder on the treadmill and sweating buckets more than I normally do. Denver is 5,200+ feet above sea level, so it makes sense that my body was working harder than it normally does.

As my colleague said, we should take it all in stride: our workouts are more efficient here! If we workout for 60 minutes at higher altitude, that’s like 120 minutes at sea level, so we’re doing our bodies a favor! I suppose that’s one way to be positive.

Kids events in NYC – plenty are free, as long as you keep track and jump on them!

One of the greatest things about living in New York City and raising kids is the fact that there are endless playgrounds and kid-related activities — as long as you do the research, know where to look, and also jump on events quickly! Most of the free or low-cost events are, predictably, very high in demand and popular, so for you to get tickets to these events will require you to be on all the email or text lists and to act on them almost immediately. In the last couple of years, I’d been more on top of keeping up with Lincoln Center free or low cost events for Kaia in mind, but this year, I haven’t been as good about checking their website and opening all their emails in a timely manner. My friend, who has a child who is a similar age to Kaia, told me today that there was a new Beethoven kids event at the Chamber Music Society at Lincoln Center for May that he and his wife would be interested in taking their toddler to, and asked if I’d be interested. I saw that there was a steep processing fee to book the tickets online, so I called the venue to ask if I could go to the box office to get around the processing fees. She told me that I could actually forgo the processing fees if I just booked with her on the phone right there. But I wasn’t sure if my friend had a specific time in mind, or if he had purchased their tickets yet. So I asked her how many tickets were remaining. Well, the seating that my friend originally wanted had only TWO tickets left (there are five of us!), and the seating before had five left, which would have been an exact fit. The first performance of the day at 11am had already sold out. And this event had just been socialized the day before!

I ended up booking all five of our tickets for the 1pm showing on that May date. But it just goes to show how quick anything that is both kid-related and low-cost/free will go here in New York City. There’s always seemingly someone else who is more click-happy than you are!

Fun coffee shops during work travel

What makes work travel so fun is not so much prepping for meetings and transiting through airports and being in Ubers; it’s actually getting to discover and do new things, including eating and drinking new things. When I used to do work travel frequently pre-pandemic, even when I used to visit cities that people would oftentimes say were boring or lackluster, I always managed to find some restaurant or cafe that I liked, and that would be my “me” time to relax and enjoy a fun, new coffee drink or a new local dish.

The place I stumbled upon on my last Boston trip that I knew I wanted to go back to this time around was Phin Coffee House. It happens to be just a few minutes walk away from my customer’s office, and it’s also got a Vietnamese spin to it. This comfortable, trendy cafe has different variations of Vietnamese coffee, a few matcha and hojicha latte options, as well as a decent selection of breakfast and lunch items. They also offer free Wi-Fi, and ample, spacious seating. Last time, I kept it simple and just got the Vietnamese iced coffee since it’s classic. This time, I decided to get their Boston cream latte, which is a creamy Vietnamese iced coffee with your choice of whipped milk. I chose oat, and when it was presented to me, it was almost like a totally whipped coffee drink! I loved it from the very first sip — it was strong, creamy, and not too sweet, but sweet enough. If I’d had more time, I would have wanted to get a second one — that was how good this was.

If I’m lucky, I’ll be back in the next couple months and hope to get this drink again, along with maybe a matcha or hojicha latte, too, and even a quick bite!

Boston: Hello, again. I’m ready to eat you!

It’s my second time to Boston in six months. I’m here again to meet the same customer I met back in September, and I also had dinner tonight with the same friend I met with back in September. It’s always a fun thing to come back to a familiar city where there are people you know and want to see again. And it’s also especially fun to try new foods here (and revisit both old and new favorites).

When I reached out to my friend to see what she wanted to have for dinner when we met, she told me that I had come at a good time because it’s actually Dine Out Boston the next two weeks. So she sent me the website and suggested I choose a place walking distance from my hotel, and she’d meet me there. I chose a trendy, upscale Mexican spot called Taco Azul, which had recently opened its second location in the historic Beacon Hill area. The menu was very simple: guacamole and queso, freshly fried blue corn tortilla chips, a selection of tacos with freshly made blue corn tortillas, and two dessert options. The drinks were incredible: I had a classic margarita while my friend had a watermelon sugar margarita, and both were extremely well made, with just the right amount of sweet, tart, and alcoholic zing. This margarita was likely the best margarita I’ve had in years. The tortillas for the tacos themselves were so fresh and so delicious; I could have easily eaten just the tortillas on their own and been happy. And the fillings we chose — beef birria, shrimp al pastor, and crispy fish — were well executed and delicious.

If you asked me back in my college years from 2004 to 2008, if I would suggest any Mexican restaurants in Boston, I would have scoffed at you and said that was a crazy idea. Now, Mexican cuisine is taking over New York and Boston, and there seems to be endless options from both the no-frills/cheap end of the spectrum, all the way to the high-end, “tasting menu”-esque restaurants.

The Pookster’s big smile

Kaia keeps coming to our bed in the middle of the night. Since around the time she’s turned 3, she’s become a lot more clingy to me. She’s exhibited a lot more baby tendencies, like wanting to be fed by us or held. And yes, I do indulge her. She is my baby after all, even if she is technically not a baby anymore. Though I missed her the last several days while I was away, I was happy to have some adult time, even if that meant being in a lot of back to back work sessions. I sent Chris a short video of me talking to her in Chinese a few of the days to keep her entertained. When I arrived home, just past midnight last night, I unpacked my bag and went into our bathroom to brush my teeth. I heard her sneak into our bedroom. She got on the bed and under the covers, assuming it was just Chris. She originally had herself positioned next to him, her head on his pillow. But she heard someone making noises in the bathroom and kept peering over to see who it was. When she realized it was me, she moved over to my side of the bed and on my pillow. When I got to the bed, her eyes were wide open and she gave me the biggest, happiest grin I’d seen her give in the middle of the night. She reached out to hug me. I told her I was back, but now it was very late, so she had to quickly go to sleep. She cuddled with me and fell asleep.

It was a long day of waiting for a delayed flight. But that moment of seeing her big, fat smile in the darkness made the journey worth it.

A tragic plane crash and frustrating flight delays

My flight going back to New York today was originally scheduled for 11:35. Then it became 11:55. Then it went past noon. It changed about every 20-30 minutes once I got into my Uber to get the airport, until finally at around 1pm, they said that we’d actually be departing at 3pm local time. This means I wouldn’t land at JFK until 11pm ET. I was definitely not a happy camper, but it’s not like there was anything I could do to help the situation. I just had my laptop and a bunch of crappy chains to get food from in this terminal.

I was thinking back to a few nights ago when I was at dinner with colleagues, and we were all getting push notifications on our phone about the tragic AA plane and military helicopter crash into Potomac River. People went around the table, saying that they were flying on Delta or United or Southwest. When I said I was flying AA, everyone went silent. It was as though they were holding their breaths for me given that this plane crash was AA, so who knows if my plane would crash, as well….?!

Chris made a good point about this when I shared this anecdote with him. He said that it was dumb people would react this way given that fatal car crashes happen literally every single day in Toyotas and whatever other mainstream car brand there is, yet none of these people would hesitate to get into an Uber ride with any of these cars; they wouldn’t even think about it. So the same logic could be applied to airlines.

Well, I’m still waiting for my very delayed flight. I’m also wondering what the heck I’m supposed to eat for dinner.

Conference time – not enough time to have real conversations

Our annual sales and success kickoff is the one time a year when a large chunk of my global company is in the same place at the same time. It’s a rare occasion, not just because we are all around the world, but also because a large number of us are 100 percent remote employees such as myself. It ends up being a bit of a stamina show to see how many people you can interact with in the space of two business days. You can’t talk to everyone. You want to chat with people you like and work with for obvious reasons. But you also want to meet with new people who you may have worked with briefly, have heard about, or would like to network with just because you either respect them or think they are interesting. Then, there’s also the idea that you want to network and build relationships with those who are influential at your company or who you could personally benefit from. Honestly, I’m done with number 3, so I really try to focus on 1 and 2.

Day 1 was rough. I barely got to talk to anyone for more than 2-4 minutes without getting interrupted and derailed. Then, I’d move on to the next person, and the same thing would happen. So really, the only time I was able to have a real, proper, in-depth conversation with anyone is if we actually went away from the conference area and did our own thing. We try our best to maximize our in-person time together, but it still feels like we’re all being stretched thin. Then, once the conference is over, you realize that there were 4 or 5 other people who were there, but you never even got to say hi to, much less interact with in any meaningful way at all!

“What dish would you make to impress me?”

I was at dinner last night with my team. I’ve always been cognizant that on pretty much every team I’ve ever been on at any company, I’m usually one of the rare people of color. On my team now, the people who bring “color” to the team are a Mexican American, a Persian-French Canadian, and myself. One of my colleagues, who had had a bit to drink, brought up that he remembered I’m really into food and like to cook. So he asked me this:

“If you could make one dish from your culture that you think would impress me, what would it be?” He paused and took another swig. “You know how if someone were Spanish, they’d say that they’d make me a paella or if they were Italian, they’d make me handmade pasta. What would the Chinese or Vietnamese equivalent be?”

This was a very strange question for me. I don’t think it’s necessarily a wrong or an offensive question. But the reason this question is strange is that in order to “impress” someone, there needs to be a basis of understanding of what that individual likes (and doesn’t like). Are there foods the person doesn’t eat or has allergies to? For Cantonese food, I’d consider a ginger scallion lobster or crab to be an impressive dish, but that clearly would not impress someone who had a shellfish allergy. Do they prefer meat or carbs or what? If I don’t know what you like or how picky of an eater you are, I’d really have no idea where to start thinking of ideas of what dish I’d make to “impress” you. The only real context with this person I have is that he’s a White male who lives in Texas, he eats a lot of fast food/junk food, and he’s addicted to Coke. What do I propose then — Chinese-style lightly battered fried chicken or Vietnamese cha gio (deep fried spring rolls stuffed with shrimp, mushroom, and pork, wrapped in thin rice paper)? I’m not sure.

I said I’d need to think about it, but I’d need more context. The conversation moved on. But it still just felt weird. It felt like I was being outed as “other,” and being put on the spot for it, and it didn’t feel that great. It was kind of a reminder to me that in Corporate America, I’ll always be a little different, and as such, I’ll never quite “blend in” fully.