When you are getting ready to move, even when it’s just to another unit in the same building, it makes you start going through all your stuff and realizing how much crap you’ve accumulated since the last time you moved. Even though this will be the easiest move of our lives given it’s in the same building, I still want to cull a lot of the things we have, especially things we do not use at all. However, even with places like the freezer, stuff accumulates that you just forget about. Here are some things I found that I totally forgot about on the bottom of the freezer: minced lemongrass and chopped lemongrass stalks; Trader Joe’s frozen chicken burritos, Trader Joe’s frozen charred corn; frozen banana and pandan leaves, two frozen barramundi fillets, one frozen chicken drumstick. Some of these items already have freezer burn. That definitely sounds delicious. This is one of the fun activities that’s a part of moving — discovering food items you’ve neglected.
When people become the mini-me of their parents
On the dad’s side of my family, I am the youngest of my current generation among all the cousins, and also the only girl. Of my paternal grandparents’ four children, their eldest son had three boys, their second eldest son (my dad) had a boy (Ed) and a girl (me), their third child, a daughter, had one son, and their fourth child, their third son, never married and had no children. Of the people who have probably went against the grain among these cousins, it’s probably me and my cousin from my dad’s sister. That cousin is fully estranged from his mother, and his dad passed away in 2012. While he and I are in contact, he does not maintain contact with anyone else in our family. Ed’s gone, and so that leaves my three much older cousins, who are 13, 16, and 17 years older than me.
While those three cousins, Ed, and me, we grew up in the same building in two separated flats, so we basically grew up like siblings and were as close as you could be despite the age difference. Yet somehow, I always felt like my three cousins had never really “grown up” properly, as not only did they not participate and do “normal” things that people do at certain ages, e.g. go to prom, leave home for college, move out of their house in their twenties, they never really dated anyone until they met the women who would ultimately become their wives. It always felt so weird to me. Not only that, sometimes they would make comments comparing their soon-to-be wives with ME. That’s just flat out gross.
The cousin who is 13 years older than me is probably the biggest embarrassment in our family, though. He’s married to someone who served him an “ultimatum” to get married, otherwise she’d dump him by a certain point, and they hate each others’ guts. Her family hates him, and he hates her entire family, including her. They share a child who has mild autism, so the road of parenting has been tough to say the least. He moves from one job to the next every 3-5 years, making racist comments about anyone he perceives to be a threat, particularly White and Indian people for whatever reason. On top of that, I’ve realized that of all three of the boys, he is most like his dad, who passed away 21 years ago and who I perceived to be one of the biggest losers I’ve ever known: constantly complains, is extremely and openly racist and sexist, blames all his life circumstances on others instead of ever taking responsibility for himself. His default is to complain and whine, particularly about people behind their backs. Yet he lacks the balls to ever confront them in person (that’s actually a theme in my family; no one ever wants to confront anyone. It’s all back talking). And to think he’s still as immature and ridiculous as he’s turning 48 this year is even more embarrassing for me. It’s basically embarrassing for me to be associated with him. He literally complains about some person or another every single day and, no fail, always has to state their race in his complaint.
If anyone ever saw some of the texts he sends me, which I have muted, they’d immediately assume I was a bad person for having any kind of a relationship with him and he was a terrible, racist person.
When people become so similar to their parents, though, especially the worst part of their parents, I always wonder what level of awareness they have of this and if they actually think it’s good or bad, assuming the awareness exists. In my cousin’s case, he’s delusional; since his dad died, he’s basically built a metaphorical shrine for him and thinks of him as the best dad and role model in the world. What a joke. We need to accept the good parts of people as well as the bad instead of sticking them on some untouchable pedestal after they’ve died.
Going back home for the first time in nearly 16 months
Chris and I have been in the midst of deciding what dates and for how long we will go back to San Francisco. We knew that after we both got fully vaccinated that we’d plan a trip back home at some point during the summer. Yet although I do want to go home, especially given how long it’s been since I was last there, my last visit wasn’t particularly happy or calm, and I have a feeling this trip will also be full of angst and stupid annoyances that really do not have to happen.
It shouldn’t be drama-filled to go home, but in my case, it always is. My mother is always extremely paranoid about who knows I am coming and if I have to see them… because inevitably if I see extended relatives, that means SHE and my dad need to see them, and she never enjoys that. She loves to ask about them and gossip about them, but once she has to see them, she dreads it and then has to gossip about all of them after. She also thinks that if we all go out, it inevitably means that everyone is expecting and “using” and “taking advantage of them” to pay whatever dinner bill there is. But it’s not like she ever even gives anyone else a chance to pay; she just secretly pays the bill in the beginning by pretending to go to the bathroom, or instructs my dad to do it since my dad always needs motherly instruction. Then afterwards, she blames me and accuses me of forcing her into the situation and makes herself out to be the victim once again. It’s an exhausting thought and exhausting to even type out, but I unfortunately have to think about this EVERY SINGLE TIME I go home. She’s repeatedly told me over and over again not to tell any relatives I’m coming home. “They don’t care about you,” she always says. One of my mother’s very favorite things to say, other than, “No,” “You know….” (always in an angry tone), and that “I worry…,” is that no one cares about me or her other than our own immediate family; no one else. She repeatedly told me around the time when Ed passed away that if I died, none of my “friends” would care. They’d cry once or twice, and then they’d forget about me as though I never existed. While that may be the case for distant friends, I really am not cynical enough to believe that’s the case with very close friends.
That’s just one of the five million reasons going home gives me angst. This is also why I cannot stay at my parents’ place the entire time I am home if it’s for more than just a few days. Even three to four days now feels like too much, especially if it’s consecutive days. Once upon a time, pre-pandemic, work always gave me a buffer so that I could stay in a work-expensed hotel for part of the time and at home part of the time, but unfortunately now, that’s not really a possibility. Chris asked me why I never stayed with any of my close friends. Well, one of them had a basement home that is filthy that I’d never feel healthy staying in, though she has offered. And to my knowledge and memory, the other one’s never really offered. So that really only leaves me with relying on a hotel.
I did a quick search for hotels in San Francisco, wondering how high the prices would be, and I couldn’t believe it: I could actually book the Marriott Marquis or the Westin St. Francis Hotel for only $169/night! You may not be aware of exactly how insane San Francisco hotel costs can be, but both those hotels are usually, at minimum, $400++/night, and that’s on a GOOD day for booking. It would actually not be shocking to see rates for either of those hotels in the $700-800++ range; during the most insane conference seasons, they can easily be over a thousand dollars a night.
In some way, that seems sad because it means San Francisco is still picking up, but on the other hand, why would I not take advantage of these rates…?!
Another vlog completed
It’s been over two months since I uploaded my last video onto my YouTube channel. Tonight, I finally completed one that will be uploaded in the next few days. Part of that is due to laziness, but more of that is due to the extreme exhaustion I was feeling during my first trimester of being pregnant. I still cannot believe how tired I was during that period and am just thankful that those parts of my pregnancy symptoms have died down. Now, I feel a lot more “normal” and energized, which is a good thing, but then it also makes me nervous about how my pregnancy is progressing. The total absence of all pregnancy symptoms tends to make any pregnant woman nervous, as it could mean that your pregnancy is no longer viable and that your embryo/fetus’s heart beat has stopped… or, in most cases, it could just mean that the hormones are no longer sustaining your embryo/fetus, and that the placenta has taken over nourishing your future baby. So it’s a fine line between transitioning from the first to second trimester of pregnancy.
“You really are pregnant!”
A couple of days ago when I was about to leave the house to go meet a friend for dinner, Chris asked if I was going to tell this friend that I was pregnant. I haven’t really been in a rush to share about my pregnancy with anyone outside of really close friends and my parents. Part of that is out of fear that this may end at any moment and just general uncertainty. The other part of it is, well, I’m not seeing that many people anytime soon, so what’s the rush in sharing? I told him I would be telling him, but I kind of had to because… well… I motioned towards my belly, which was definitely sticking out of the fitted dress I was wearing.
“Wow, you really are pregnant!” he commented, looking at my stomach. “It’s really popped out in the last week or so! I guess the clinic and doctors weren’t lying!”
Well, that lie would have been a huge conspiracy theory that would have taken a LOT of coordination, given I’ve already had tests and scans at four different offices — the clinic, my OB-GYN office, the maternal fetal medicine specialist, plus the women’s imaging center most recently at Lenox Hill Hospital. That doesn’t even include all the pregnancy symptoms I’ve been experiencing in addition to my growing belly.
But yes, a growing belly usually IS a sign of pregnancy, one that gets harder and harder to hide as time goes on.
Dreams during pregnancy
During pregnancy, everything pretty much gets chocked up to “hormones.” Why are you feeling nauseous and vomiting? Hormones. Why are you feeling bloated? Hormones. Why can pregnant people be moody or have the most random food cravings? Hormones. Apparently, I even read that “pregnancy rhinitis” is a thing. That’s when women in the second half of their first trimester and beyond are just suddenly super stuffy in their noses all the time, or their noses itch like crazy. Oh wait, that could be me; my nose is itching CONSTANTLY, and it’s the worst when I’m on a work Zoom call, and it’s itching so badly that all I want to do is turn my video off to just scratch the top of my nose nonstop.
Anyway, so another funny thing that pregnancy hormones also get blamed for… are very vivid dreams during pregnancy. Granted, I’ve always had vivid dreams, but lately until the last couple of weeks, I really haven’t remembered much. Yet suddenly in the last week or so, I’ve had multiple dreams including Simu Liu, one in which he was trying to hit on me, and another in which we were sitting and eating dosa together. I’ve also had a whole string of dreams in which I am basically watching other people on their dates: I’m basically watching a live movie, except the people in the movie are right in front of me. One couple was on their very first date, as they’d met through friends. It was super awkward, and they clearly did not care much for the other. The second date I observed, I’m not sure what number date it was, but the chemistry was extremely thick; it was as though they were going to tear off each others’ clothes right in the restaurant! The third date appeared to have been arranged by the two individuals’ parents, as they kept mentioning so and so’s mom or aunt; sounded almost incestuous, but hey, to each their own.
Dreams as movie watching – who would’ve thought about that?
First time at the Comedy Cellar since pre-pandemic
Chris booked us the third weekend Friday night show operating at 100 percent capacity at the Comedy Cellar, which we hadn’t been to since before the pandemic began. Just as I remembered, we were all crammed super close together in the basement of the venue, with just enough room between seats to… well, rub shoulders against the stranger next to you. And while most of the time, that’s an annoying thing in New York with its teeny tiny venues and barely enough space for petite people like me to get around, it actually felt refreshing and nice. We can actually BE close together again! The only different part of the operations was that the Comedy Cellar required us to show our actual vaccination cards when showing our IDs. They’re making sure we’re not lying and that everyone will be safe. I’m on board with that.
As always, there’s a lineup of comedians each set, and of course, pretty much all of them commented on the city re-opening fully and COVID in general. One of the funniest lines I heard was when one of them lamented how dumb we are as a country, as the best example of how dumb we are is that we cannot seem to count all the way to 20; we need to be told to sing the song “Happy Birthday” twice. For whatever reason, I never really thought about that until that second, and I could not stop laughing. I remember all the times I was on company all-hands meetings at my last company, and our CEO and CPO would say constantly each time, “20 seconds! Sing ‘Happy Birthday’ twice, people! It’s not too hard!”
I guess we really are that dumb, aren’t we?
Stomach growth during pregnancy
I looked at my side view in the mirror today, and my stomach definitely looks a little bit bigger and rounder than it did this same time last week. But for a few minutes, I got a little paranoid, wondering if it looks bigger just because I want it to look bigger, and then I wondered if my little baby was even still breathing with a beating heart. I immediately Googled belly growth during pregnancy during the second trimester, and the average result seems to be about 1 centimeter per week. Phew, I thought. That’s actually very tiny, so maybe the “growth” I think I’ve observed in the mirror since last week actually is real. Maybe I should really stop worrying. It’s almost like I’m looking for reasons to worry, and I’m letting my pregnancy anxiety get the best of me.
It’s hard to shake the worry and anxiety given the journey I’ve been on, though. I can’t ever be that confident that anything is going well, even when multiple doctors and sonographers have all assured me that everything is on track, which they have. The last doctor at the hospital who reviewed my ultrasounds at my 12.5 week appointment actually said to me, “You could not be in better shape. Everything is on track!” And the suckiest part about this is that it’s not even like the worry and anxiety ends once the baby is born, assuming it’s healthy. Then, I’ll end up worrying about whether it’s eating enough, gaining enough weight, sleeping enough, pooping enough. Then there’s always sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS) to be silently freaking out about during its first year of life.
I don’t technically have a baby to take care of that is external to my body. In that sense, no one is going around calling me a mother. But I definitely feel like I’m already a mom with my thoughts and worries.
Walkable city
One of the funniest things about living in an urban, “concrete jungle” like Manhattan vs. a stereotypically green, picturesque suburb setting is that in Manhattan, you can pretty much walk everywhere you’d like, and it’s super easy. In suburbs regardless of where in the world you are, you are more likely to get in your car to travel a distance that may even just be a couple of blocks. Because of this, you probably will do more steps and get more “natural” and incidental exercise by living in an urban vs. suburban area. Most of Manhattan is set up like a grid, so it’s pretty easy to navigate. And you’re unlikely to own a car if you live in Manhattan, so you’re reliant on your feet, the subway/bus system, or the occasional ride-share.
I was thinking about this tonight when I met up with a friend for dinner in the East Village. After we had dinner, we walked to a nearby spot for some bubble tea, then decided, what the heck, we might as well just walk home. He lives in Midtown West, and I live a bit further north, and since my shoes were comfortable enough and I was in no rush to get home, I figured it would be good additional exercise and air. In total, that was a distance walked of about 3.6 miles.
It’s also something I’ve thought about while lightly browsing potential baby strollers. Everyone’s use case is a little different, but there’s no doubt that with our lifestyle, we’re going to be on city streets and sidewalks a LOT. We also want the stroller to be easy to break down to set up in a ride-share/rental car, and similarly, the lowest possible hassle getting on and off a plane. It will be interesting to see what we end up moving forward with.
COVID restrictions ending in New York
This evening, we went to our roof to catch tiny glimpses of the fireworks display further downtown. The New York governor had announced earlier that he was lifting most of the state’s coronavirus precautions after New York reached a 70 percent vaccination threshold. From our roof, we could see bits of the colorful fireworks going up into the air to celebrate the end of COVID-19 restrictions. Back in March 2020, when the COVID restrictions began, who would have ever thought that they would have lasted this long? Granted, I was pretty pessimistic given the orange jerk that was unfortunately in the White House at the time, and I had a feeling COVID would continue full speed ahead killing people around this country through the end of the year. But finally, over 15 months after the restrictions had begun, we’re finally ending them in New York state just over 15 months later.
We survived, I thought to myself, looking at the tiny bits of fireworks from our roof very far away from the center of the display. But unfortunately, 600,000 of our fellow Americans did not. Globally, there have been over 3.82 million people who have died from COVID-19, and who is to say the number of people who died not directly from COVID, but indirectly because they were turned away for supposedly less severe sicknesses at the time. This is definitely going to be a time in our lives we’ll never forget. In the back of my mind, though, I wonder when the next global pandemic will happen, as scientists are anticipating that this is not necessarily going to be a one-off in our lifetime and may become a more regular occurrence.
Although vaccinations are increasing, I’m still disappointed by all the people who still haven’t been vaccinated, as well as the anti-vaxxers who continue to spread fake news about the COVID vaccines. This country still seems so dismal. We cause all our own problems yet cannot seem to learn from it. This is what happens when you don’t study history properly.