Administrative Professionals’ Day

Today was Administrative Professionals’ Day, so after one of our colleagues noted it, I collected money across the office to pool together for several bouquets of ranunculus and roses for our office manager. Everyone gave really generously; in the end, I ended up having extra money and had to go out and buy even more flowers. Everyone was more than willing to contribute, and enthusiastically did so. Our office manager really goes above and beyond to make sure that we’re comfortable, that we have everything we need (even the variety of “milk” and the snacks), and that all our guests are fully accommodated and welcomed warmly. If I had her job, I know I’d be exhausted.

It’s like I am still adjusting to how generous and kind and full of integrity people are here. It’s still surprising to me, but in a good way.

Hijacked class

Today is the first day of our Java Script and debugging courses after work, which will last for two hours each Tuesday and Thursday for approximately the next two months. We got approval for funding for these classes to have an instructor come to our office and show us the basics, as a few of us agreed that we might be more effective in our roles if we knew more of the technical aspects of our product. I figured it would be a good opportunity, especially since our company is already paying for it, so there was no reason for me not to join. I could suck this up for two short months for a longer term reward in understanding more deeply.

But the class didn’t really go the way I expected, as one of my colleagues ended up hijacking the topic halfway through to ask random, customer-specific questions. I was sitting there, playing with my sushi dinner, wondering when we were going to get back to the core of what the instructor was supposed to be going through. But it never ended up coming.

This was my frustration in school whenever some jerk in the class would take us on a long tangent that was unrelated to the actual subject matter at hand. It’s just like being in school again here where one little twit hogs all the attention of the teacher.

End of the quarter

It’s the last full week of our company’s quarter, and it looks like from a sales perspective, our office is not going to hit its number. The funniest thing about this for me personally is that in the past, at least at the last wretched company, there was never a known “number” to hit, nor was there communication about whether we were ever over or under that number because we didn’t really sell any software; we just existed because of our services. Here, we’re actually selling something tangible, and what we’re selling is hard to get to be “sticky.” So now that I’m aware of these things and more or less keep track (because I am post-sales, so it’s not like my job is on the line), I can actually feel the pressure that our sales team is experiencing.

We’ve gone through a lot of changes in the last year since I’ve joined. In that time, we’ve tried to scale to become more of an enterprise company. That means massive growing pains, turnover, and a lot of new process that has not always been the best new process to implement. In the last three months, I’ve probably felt the most exhausted from work than I’ve ever felt. In some way, that’s a good thing because it means I’m engaged and have a lot to do. I find the work far more rewarding than anything I’ve ever done before professionally. But in another way, I know that I’m really here because of what the end result is, which is my paycheck and the flexibility a job like this gives me. I’m far luckier than most people, but part of me is wondering if there could be something else out there for me that could give me more.

Sardines and anchovies

Sardines and anchovies are oftentimes considered the lowest on the food chain because they are some of the tiniest fish you could eat. They don’t have the worries of mercury behind them the way swordfish do, nor do they have the massive farming issues that salmon does. I’ve really gotten into sardines in the last couple of years, but anchovies, for whatever reason, have intimidated me because of how naturally salty and fishy they are. I love them in authentic caesar salads, but in my actual cooking, I generally steered clear of them.

But then I found a Sicilian recipe for Sicilian pasta with sardines, anchovies, fennel, and toasted bread crumbs, and it attracted me immediately. I’ve been actively trying to use ingredients recently that I’ve been avoiding or ignoring, everything from dried Mexican chilies, fennel, cabbage, and now anchovies. This would help me expand what I’m comfortable with. It gets boring to always cook the same cuisines or the same dishes, and I get bored extremely easily with almost everything. I’ve made a number of Italian dishes, but have never made anything Sicilian. So I took a chance and actually made the dish today, and it came out incredibly well. The anchovies’ saltiness really spread, but just enough and without being overwhelming. I just used a small tin. I barely added any additional salt to the dish, and it turned out perfectly. Even Chris was skeptical but was convinced after he had a few bites. It’s the little wins that get me excited in the kitchen.

All day long

I originally planned to just have lunch and maybe a dessert with my friend today, but it ended up turning into a lunch, dessert, drinks, more drinks, and dinner, and additional drinks through the night where both of our partners joined us. It was one of those semi spontaneous Saturdays that seems to happen rarely, if ever for us now. The older I have gotten, the less and less spontaneous the things we seem to do are. We have plans, our friends have plans, so we can never just expect anyone to be available on a whim, and I just loved every minute of it. I loved that it was unplanned. I loved that we all got together and had fun banter among the four of us, and that we went from place to place as though it were just another thing we could do on a happy and carefree Saturday. I wish we could have more spontaneity like this. Maybe it’s just my subconscious fighting the reality of getting older.

Coming back to the office

I was traveling and away from the office for customer meetings for six business days in a row, so it felt nice to be back in the office yesterday and today with some of my colleagues. Most of us are traveling here and there, and so it is a rare occasion when every single person is actually in, but even with the few who did show up today, I was really happy to see them. It felt almost weird and mushy in some way. I was definitely feeling positive.

It’s so strange. Even after a year in, I’m still getting adjusted to the idea of looking forward to going to the office, of doing work, of being around my colleagues who I actually respect and like. Work-wise, I’m in a very positive place and probably couldn’t ask for any more than I have right now from a social perspective.

“Is that racist?”

I was at happy hour with a bunch of colleagues this early evening, and we were talking about annoying things that we’ve encountered across New York and San Francisco. Since our company is headquartered in San Francisco, everyone in our group goes out west to San Francisco at least a few times a year, so we all have varying familiarity of the city. When it came to talk about annoying things in New York, I commented that I found it a bit frustrating when I moved here that people just expected me to know everything about being Jewish, from what a yamaka is to dates for Yom Kippur to Rosh Hashanah. It’s not that I ever expressed a lack of desire to know or understand; it’s that I was just expected to know all these things as someone who did not grow up in New York City. A colleague then responds, “you do realize that if you just replaced the word ‘Jewish’ with any other race, that comment could be perceived as racist, right?”

Well, no, I actually don’t, I said, and this is why: again, it’s not the lack of desire to want to understand, it’s the expectation that everyone needs to know exactly what you know that bothers me. I don’t expect everyone to know when Vietnamese new year is. I also don’t expect everyone to know what a red envelope symbolizes. If you know, great. And if you don’t know, I’m happy to share and educate you if you’d like. If you express that you do not want to know or try to justify your ignorance, then at that point, I might suspect you are racist. But with what I said… I think that’s taking the labeling of “racist” to a point where people on the left do; too much, too often, and trying to be way too PC at times when there is no need for that.

It was certainly an interesting happy hour. Who would have thought that race would be one of the fun topics of the evening?

Sky of Red Poppies

For the last month, I’ve been reading Zohreh Ghahremani’s book Sky of Red Poppies, which is a book about two girls’ controversial friendship during the rule of the Shah, and into the Iranian revolution. I finally finished it on the plane ride back from Miami today, and as the plane descended, we got to the part of the book where Roya, the main character, learns that after she’s moved to the U.S., her brother got killed during one of the protests as an innocent bystander, and her family kept his death from her for months, if not years. No one mentioned his passing to her over the phone when she’d call; they’d insist that he was busy, not there, or “just didn’t want to talk on the phone.” She was filled with so much shock, despair, and outrage.. she didn’t even know how to mourn him properly. As soon as my eyes reached these pages, they overflowed with tears. I felt knots in my stomach. I don’t even know these people… they’re all fictional, just a story in my head. But it hurt so much to read this. Sibling death is too close to me, and to think that it would be kept a secret is just so devastating. I used to have nightmares of things like this happening, of my brother or my father dying, and my mom never telling me… or telling me months after the fact. These are the moments when I miss Ed and really wish he were alive and healthy.

sun rise

One of the nicest things about coming down to Miami for work is that I get to stay at a beach front property where I usually have a room that overlooks the beach. It also means that since I’m on the east coast, and Miami is on the east side of Florida, that I get to see the sun rise if I wake up early enough. I woke up just in time to see the sun rise this morning, and also had my morning workout, which ended with a long walk on the beach. I sat outside on the sand for a while and really just soaked the sun, the air, and the sounds in, and kind of reveled in how lucky I was. Yes, work can get really stressful, as it has been in the last few weeks. Yes, work travel can be extremely tiring and lonely. But the fact that I can have moments like this when I can travel for work is amazing, and I’m so grateful for it.  Seeing the sun rise fully, and knowing I have one more morning of it waiting for me tomorrow have made this trip really worth it. And today is also my one-year work anniversary, so I feel like this trip was even more special because of it.

Turbulence, turbulence

All night long last night and through the morning today, the entire New York City area experienced torrential downpour. I woke up in the middle of the night to the rain loudly tapping my windows, and I knew this was going to be really bad. Some subway stations  got flooded in uptown Manhattan. I even got a flight alert notification saying that my early morning flight today might get delayed due to heavy winds. I had a two-hour buffer between the time that my plane was scheduled to land and the time of my business review meeting. I needed to make this meeting.

So, the flight took off a bit delayed. But as we were ascending, the worst turbulence that I can ever remember began. The plane didn’t even feel like it was going straight. It felt like it was going sideways to the left for a few minutes, then sideways to the right, then as though it were tumbling down but trying to lift itself up all at the same time. None of the feelings made sense. I was sitting at the front of the plane and looked back to see people’s facial expressions. For the most part in First Class, people were fairly nonchalant or passed out. But the people in the front of Coach looked disturbed. A colleague who sat back there told me that at least 2-3 people were yelling at the back of the plane, and several others had their eyes closed and their hands together as though in prayer. Let’s all just brace ourselves.

It lasted for over 15 minutes. Even the flight attendants were not allowed to get out of their seats. At least we finally got to a clear, smooth path. We didn’t die. It’s all good news.