bringing out the worst in all of us

Our office manager has let the cleaning staff know that she wants them to do extra cleaning and sanitizing of all surface areas, even the couches that are normally not cleaned. A lot of people in our office are uneasy about COVID-19, and the media is certainly not helping with the building hysteria.

She’s ordered additional hand sanitizer bottles and Chlorox surface wipes for the office, as well. And yet, somehow, in the last few days, when she’s placed about 10 bottles of brand new hand sanitizer bottles, obviously for office use, she looked at the shelf today and noticed only three were left. Where have they all gone?

People are actually stealing them. These are well paid, white-collar professionals with all the best tech startup perks in the world… stealing office supplies that are meant for office use. This is completely ridiculous and embarrassing, and I’d love to call out the people who actually stole those bottles.

Then, I have my cousin texting me, telling me that a white woman on the train randomly started staring him down and swearing at him nonstop before running off the train. “Because of your people, we’re all going to die, you asshole!”

When a virus is spreading, so does hate, racism, and xenophobia. All political correctness dissipates and instead, is replaced with the true subconscious hate that people harbor in the backs of their minds. Plus, the desire to hoard and distrust everyone in existence, especially those who look like those at the epicenter of the virus.

I haven’t experienced any racial slurs as a result of this, but I am bracing myself for the moment when I do.

Pandemonium at Whole Foods

I stopped by Whole Foods after work today since a few things were on sale that I wanted, and was a little shocked to pass through the dried pasta and canned goods aisle to see that almost the entire shelves were wiped clean. There were a handful of canned beans or tomatoes left, but for the most part, the shelves were empty. Whole Foods workers were diligently in the midst of restocking these shelves, but as they did this, more people came to take anywhere from 10 to 20+ packs of pasta or beans and fill their carts.

I realized that mass hysteria has descended upon society with COVID-19 being a concern, but I stupidly didn’t think that this would affect my local Whole Foods that much. I went to the fresh seafood counter to pick up some shrimp on sale, and it was a bit comical to see how idle the seafood workers were. They were more than thrilled to hear I wanted to buy something from them and could actually use their services! It was clear no one wanted to buy fresh seafood, and everyone just wanted things that were non-perishable that they could store up in their pantries.

As I passed through the aisles, I noticed how inexpensive the canned organic beans were. The cans were BPA-free, too. So… I thought I’d toss in a couple cans myself… because why not? Granted, I’m not even close to freaking out about this or thinking we will all need to go into seclusion, but I guess it couldn’t hurt to have a few more of these in our pantry.

Regardless, I will NOT be one of those people who spends $50 for a desktop-sized hand sanitizer bottle. This disease spread has really only shown how crazed and racist people can be in these times.

Indian groceries delivered

Every couple of months, Chris and I do a trip out to Jackson Heights in Queens for our dosa fix, as well as Indian groceries ranging from his favorite banana chips and mixture to my pantry staples of different pulses, beans, spices, curry leaves, and frozen Asian goods. When we went to Patel Brothers on Saturday with my friend to introduce her to several of our favorite ethnic neighborhoods in Queens, we found out that they are actually doing a pretty economical delivery service and will deliver to our zip code in Manhattan. The delivery charge is only $3, and it’s a $35 minimum (before tip). Depending on the item, some of the items are the same price as in store, while others are a little bit more.

I took a look at some of the potential things we could buy. Dosa batter mix (refrigerated). Curry leaves (fresh). Ghee. Endless types of legumes. Frozen grated coconut. Frozen vegetables, pre-cut up. Fresh tomatoes, onions, and even okra. Wow. This is actually very impressive. It was almost like having FreshDirect, but even better because of all these amazing South Asian goods we could buy, plus the delivery fee was so much less.

This could end up becoming dangerous, but I will try this out to see how it is.

The new New York City MoMa

I’m embarrassed to say this, but the last time I visited the New York City Museum of Modern Art (MoMa) was likely way back in 2010. The permanent collection here is quite notable, with works varying from Impressionism, Post-Impressionism, Surrealism, and the surrounding times. But what has been most notable is the recent change to the MoMa to be more representative of diverse artists of diverse backgrounds of our modern time. More artists of who have historically been lesser represented, as well as subject matters (racial segregation and discrimination from the 1930s to the 1970s) that have not had the level of exposure that they should have had, are now prominently on display at the MoMa. It was really refreshing to actually be able to see many of Picasso’s cubist works in the same room as this white/black violence portrayed in the painting “Die.” It makes you wonder what the future holds for us, for our future children and generations that we will not be around for. It is less of a “what happened then?” question in art, but rather a look forward to what the future could potentially hold depending on the decisions our people and governments make today. It is like art history in the making and asking us tough questions for the now.

16 years later

My friend is in town visiting for the weekend, and we were reminiscing on our college days when we took three different trips to New York City and all the funny things that had happened. One thing I completely forgot that happened our second trip: it was so cold and windy that my friend’s pores on her legs started bleeding during the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. We had come for our second trip together just the two of us during Thanksgiving week 2005, and it was probably the coldest visit we’d had to New York. We had to get her to a bathroom to wash off the blood and some bandages from a local Duane Reade.

During our combined three trips, we visited probably every major museum together while quizzing each other about each others’ art history knowledge. We both took Advanced Placement Art History in high school, and in college, I took another semester of it. She is one of the few people I know who has actually taken a real art history class (even though she didn’t do so well in it, nor did she really retain the knowledge or love of it, but well…).

Our physical selves haven’t changed very much since our 2004 trip. We looked back on old photos that Chris put up on our Chromecast, and we more or less look exactly the same. I can still wear the same clothes that I had back then, too, if I really wanted to. Our minds have certainly gotten older, though.

Paranoia at its finest

I haven’t called home since the day after I came back from San Francisco. I sent my mom flowers to acknowledge her “birthday” a couple days after her birthday two weeks ago, though. She expects a gift around the time of her birthday, but not on the day of her birthday because that would be going against Jehovah’s Witnesses beliefs about no celebration of birthdays or holidays (it seems like a total crock because she wants what she is not supposed to have according to her chosen religion, but hey, that’s what she wants). Part of the reason I haven’t called home was due to work stress and drama. The other part was because I just needed to decompress from all the pointless arguments that happened where my mom, as per usual, insists people (including me, of course) have wronged her endlessly and that she’s 100 percent innocent and has never done a single thing wrong.

I called today after work, which was probably a mistake. I regretted it as soon as I heard her cold, testy voice. She immediately started saying that because of something someone else caused (me) where she did nothing wrong, she’s now being “persecuted.” I had no idea what she was dramatizing, but whatever it was, it was clear she had her finger pointed at me as the one to blame.

Apparently shortly after I left, my aunt, who lives upstairs, hosted a large gathering of JW friends, and while hosting all these guests, she never bothered inviting my parents. My mom was livid and ran through all the reasons that my aunt wouldn’t invite her. “But I put two and two together, and I know what happened,” she said. “You told your cousin bad things about me, and he told your aunt, and that’s why your aunt is mad at me and doesn’t want to invite me!”

A previous version of myself would be angry to the point of yelling. I’d raise my voice, tell her that it was all a paranoid, made up story she decided to fabricate in her head and run with. I’d get soft feet, feel my throat drop into my stomach, and feel small. I’d stand there, scared of her response. The current version of myself merely stated that I never spoke with my aunt; I did no such thing. She can believe whatever made up stories she wanted to believe, but (and I love doing this) “God knows I did nothing wrong, so you can believe what you want to believe and make up whatever you want.”

The paranoia was obvious. She started raising her voice, saying she never “directly” accused me. I’m not stupid, I said plainly, and I wasn’t born yesterday. She’s blaming me, and it’s not true. She then moaned on and on about what a good child my aunt’s eldest son is, how “he tells his mother everything and obeys her from her head to her toe. He would even tell her when he has sex with his wife (yep, this is a real quote) — that’s how much he cares about his mother!” This is her way of comparing, saying I do not obey, I am not enough of a daughter, that I am a terrible child who is “against her parents.”

If I wanted to get a really nasty reaction out of her, I could have responded, “Yeah, I really love that you keep comparing me to my aunt’s oldest son. Constantly comparing — it’s so nice of you! I mean, that’s what you used to do to Ed — constantly compare him to ‘the kids’ upstairs.’ You and dad used to repeatedly call him ‘useless,’ ‘brainless,’ ‘stupid,’ ‘idiot,’ ‘moron,’ ‘dumb.’ And where is Ed now? Hmmmm….”

But I refrained and I held it in. Because I recognize that will get me nowhere. It will get us nowhere. Ed and I had an emotionally and verbally abusive upbringing, and it ended up being a huge contributor of his ultimate downfall. That “upbringing” isn’t over for me because I still have to endure all the nastiness of my parents to this day. But there’s line you have to draw to be an independent, healthy adult, where you acknowledge that you cannot “blame” your parents for everything bad in your life, that you have take ownership of your own life.

And that’s what I am trying to do. I’m drawing an invisible line to separate myself from my parents, to prevent their constant criticisms and fabricated stories from getting the best of me and my psyche. I refuse to endure the constant abuse, to try to continue rationalizing the made-up stories she keeps creating in her head. The world is not “out to get her” the way she thinks. The world… just is what it is. It’s not the warmest, friendliest place, but it’s also not full of evil at every corner, either.

Coronavirus making its way to the U.S.

The COVID-19, or Coronavirus, has slowly made its way to the U.S. We now have reported cases in California and Washington states, and it’s only a matter of time before it gets everywhere. With that, panic is everywhere: companies are issuing travel bans for International travel and severely limiting domestic travel; people are wiping out entire shelves of face masks, toilet paper, cleaning supplies, and hand sanitizer; Non-perishable foods are slowly being sold out everywhere. Panic instead of prevention seems to be the theme right now.

The only real “change” I may have made is using hand sanitizer a little more often. I already wash my hands all the time. I’ve been buying food the way I normally do. I’m not sure what else any individual can do to help the situation other than try to remain calm and collected, and do what is practical.

When the CEO comes to town

Our CEO is in town here in New York this week, which means that all of NYC leadership is going to dinner with him. A colleague commented to me that the entire dinner will be white men, with the exception of one Indian-American man. I shrugged and said I wasn’t surprised, but that’s our company. What are we going to do about it? This is not really a real conversation that is going to go anywhere. I do not know why we are even bringing up such a moot point.

I’ve realized that voicing concerns like this really do not make any difference and prompt no change. When it’s convenient, someone from HR will say something callous like, “it’s diverse on our leadership team: our CMO is Japanese.” Or, “there are two (white) women on this team’s mangers/directors list.” They think they are helping; they are not and only making things worse. They are tokening the entire diversity situation. The most we can do is fight for ourselves and our paycheck, get whatever we can out of the company (which usually means.. trying to outperform as much as possible so that you are not only maximizing your paycheck but also adding a lot of business value for the customer and ultimately the company), and tune out all the politics and the genuine care. We cannot really survive in the business world if we are constantly caring about things that are fully out of our individual control.

Computer by day, computer by night

I’m getting into a good groove with video editing for the YouTube channel. It’s been fun to look for music that suits a video theme, and it’s been entertaining for me to use creative juices to edit and cut video for my final versions of my vlogs. The travel ones always require more time, thought, and work, but the process has actually been very enjoyable despite how time consuming it is. Even though I am at a computer most of the day at work, working on this at night is actually something I’ve looked forward to this week. It’s my creative outlet away from the humdrum of work, which has zero creativity.

If I could edit video all day long and get paid for it… that would be really fun. But, I don’t think I’m quite that good just yet.

Radish cake followers

After posting about my Chinese radish cake making on Instagram, a number of people responded and said they were inspired to make their own after watching my videos. Another said she’d tried making a few different versions based on different recipes, but they never came out quite like she wanted. Some were too dense; some totally lacked flavor. I wonder if she actually spent the money on the right ingredients, as the fillings for these cakes are not cheap, hence why so many places skimp out on the fillings. A small handful of Chinese dried scallops or shrimp can easy be $5-10 alone. A former colleague messaged and said he and his wife had just went out to buy all the ingredients to make this same cake, but he had a hunch that mine would turn out better than theirs.

I realized that because there are so many different versions of all these recipes that sometimes you just have to combine multiple and tweak them until you get the result you want. I probably used four different recipes to get to the version I made, and I’m really happy with it on the first go. Next time, I might sub in Chinese bacon instead of the Chinese sausage since the bacon takes more prep work and time, but I’m lucky it was the perfect taste and texture the first time around.