Soap dispenser

When we originally moved into this apartment, it came with a liquid soap dispenser in the bathroom. It was one of the things we “purchased” as part of our “package” of furniture and other apartment items when we moved in. The soap dispenser has been acting up since we first moved in; it doesn’t immediately pop up after you’ve pushed out soap, so you have to manually pull it up. It’s been a minor inconvenience, but one that we’ve tolerated because neither of us really cares that much.

I guess it really bugged Chris’s parents, because today they immediately went out shopping and stopped by Bed Bath & Beyond to buy us a new fancy soap dispenser with a sensor on it, so you don’t even need to touch it. They probably think we’re squeezed for every last penny given our expenses and cannot even afford a new soap dispenser.

I think it has more to do with us being cheap about these little things than the lack of ability to afford buying. Our priorities are pretty clear.

Bouley at Home

We celebrated Chris’s mom’s birthday tonight at Bouley at Home, which has a test kitchen setup and is quite the departure from the former Bouley restaurant, which was further downtown in Tribeca and felt extremely formal and even a bit imposing. Many of the dishes were made right in front of us, and the entire place felt very casual and easy going. We even had the pleasure of enjoying a reasonably priced bottle of wine that was aged for 20 years. It’s rare to get a “deal” on something like that so easily at a restaurant that is as fancy as Bouley at Home.

The chef who was preparing some of the dishes in front of us had some chit chat with us, and we found out that he’s originally from Spain and just spends part of the year here. As Bouley at Home very recently opened, he spends a few months a year working here, and also spends a few months a year during the summer time working at another restaurant on a small island near Ibiza in Spain. He said he’s planning to open his own restaurant shortly, and so I started following him on Instagram to get his updates. What a nice life – to live a bi-country experience and not to call just one place home. Working in the restaurant business is hard and sweaty, but I’d love to have that experience where I could live a few months in this country and another few months in that country. That’s when I’d know I’ve “made” it.

But then again, my main “home” country is the U.S., and this country sucks when it comes to work-life balance. I know for a fact my current company would never allow that type of setup for me in my role.

Failed flight attempt

Since my parents in law’s flight was delayed coming into New York today, I figured that I’d maximize my customer visit time by doing a day trip to visit a customer for an onsite program review today. My sales colleague was already planning to be in Chicago, and I figured that since the flight was so short (and also appeared to be very cheap) that I’d buy a plane ticket the day before and join her.

I guess my spontaneity didn’t work out so well. I got to the airport and got upgraded immediately. Then, after the plane left the gate, we sat on the tarmac for nearly an hour, and I knew something was wrong. They announced they realized that they needed to refuel and brought us to another gate. After sitting at the gate for another half hour, they announced that they found a problem with the engine, and that our flight would be delayed for a TBD amount of time. They let us all off the plane, and when I checked for the updated departure status, it said that it wouldn’t depart until three hours later, which would mean I’d actually be arriving in Chicago an HOUR after my meeting was slated to begin.

I called AA immediately to cancel my flight and get a refund, and then sulkily got an Uber to get back to my apartment. I’d never felt more like a flying failure than today. I went to the airport, got on a plane, then got off the same plane, and left the airport to go home. What amazing productivity.

Pistachio and rose water semolina cake

I’ve been eyeing Yotam Ottolenghi’s pistachio and rose water semolina cake recipe for the last couple years. I’ve never seen an unfrosted cake look so regal and special. Its batter is complex, with a base of pistachio, almond, and semolina flour, combined with flavorings of vanilla, rose water, cardamom, and lemon. It is baked, then soaked in a lemon juice/rose water syrup, topped with crushed pistachios and candied rose petals, and then served with a topping of rose water cream. It truly is a labor of love. I shared the recipe with my colleague today, and she was in total shock that I was making this. The only shortcut I made was that I didn’t make candied rose petals and instead am adorning the cake with rose tea petals; sourcing edible rose petals seems nearly impossible, even in a city like New York.

“This seems like too much effort,” she said. “If I were you, I’d just buy a cake and claim I made it!”

Part of the joy though is in the process of making. It’s always rewarding to make something from a bunch of raw ingredients and have it bring joy to others. I don’t make many cakes, but I do think my mother-in-law’s birthday is an occasion worthy of a homemade cake.

Two years married

I was at happy hour with a bunch of colleagues a few nights ago, and one of them, who is only 25, has been in the same relationship for the last three years. Her boyfriend is three years older, and at an age where a lot of his friends are getting engaged and married, so she feels like he is going in a similar direction mindset-wise, as well. She expressed some frustration around this.

“I’m so bored, Yvonne,” she said to me, two drinks in, resting her head on my shoulder. Yep, this was the truth coming out. Alcohol always does this to you. “I’m still young. I don’t want to be ‘settled.’ Everything is always the same with us. It’s soooo boring.”

I had to hold back what I wanted to say, as I’m definitely not going to be someone chiming   in to potentially break up a long-term relationship. All I said to her was that I spent almost all of my 20s in long-term relationships, and if I had to, I probably would have done it differently, especially my college years and early 20s. I obviously can’t redo it now, but if I could, I would have been single then and not settled. I told her she had to pick her own path and decide what was right for her.

Well, today marks two years since our wedding. And as always, Chris is annoying me, but as such, still eliciting emotions from me. For once in a long time, I kind of feel like almost everything in life feels good, from work to friends to my relationship. This type of “settled” I can definitely get behind.

Growing old and wanting to kill each other

When people talk about marriage, it’s usually in a very positive or a negative light. For those who are uninitiated and ignorant and young, they think it’ll be happily ever after (certainly helped by the Disney fairy tales that overrun the minds of young children), riding off into the sunset on a horse that doesn’t smell. For those who have either experienced it themselves or through the dismal relationships of their parents, they avoid it, have heart palpitations over it, and think all marriages will be doomed. Some will just mask their lack of joys more than others. “All the world’s a stage,” as Shakespeare once wrote.

I tend to think more practically about it now. When you’re married, by default you have someone to do activities with. You don’t have to plan a trip and feel self conscious about traveling alone or get lonely pangs. Your partner will be there with you. My parents’ marriage isn’t necessarily the happiest one, but it makes sense. They take care of each other. My dad does all the things my mom doesn’t like to do, and my mom does most of the things my dad doesn’t like to do or isn’t capable of doing. They once had a fervid, romantic love. That’s pretty much disintegrated now, and now it’s about a stability, regularity, the expected. But there’s an inherent trust that they have in each other after all these years. And then, there are those like Hal & Bee, who just fantasize endlessly about killing each other in multiple ways, whether it’s via stabbing, shooting, or just beating to death.

Maybe I’m naive myself. But I cannot fathom the idea of fantasizing about killing my partner in different ways and actually deriving joy from it. The mere idea doesn’t sound very exciting, and I guess I’ve never had a desire to end anyone’s life, even when extremely angry. If you really hate someone so much that you want to fantasize about killing him, then why don’t you just leave him? Or is it the regularity and stability and the perception of being “status quo” by being married that keeps you together?

Divorces

Although it is more acceptable to get a divorce today than it was 50-60 years ago, I think it’s still fair to say that it’s not something that people look upon favorably. After all, it is a “failure” in life, right? It’s a failure at marriage, a life commitment and vow you made to someone, and thus the end of your shared life together with this other person. It’s still something that people say in hushed voices.

I think it probably helps that people are gradually getting married older, but that’s not a safe guard from divorce, either. I just learned of a colleague in another office who got divorced (for the second time) after her marriage, which lasted only five months. Her then-husband, after marriage, suddenly started imposing gendered responsibilities on her, and even became abusive. It’s terrifying to think that people could change overnight just because a piece of paper was signed and a ceremony ending with a kiss was held.

Maybe nothing is safe anymore — being single or being married. You’re bound to get hurt and betrayed.

Five girlfriends

I was at happy hour this early evening with five of my colleagues. We’d been trying to organize a team happy hour for ages, but given how flaky New Yorkers generally are, it never really worked out until tonight, and even tonight, we only achieved a turnout of six people.

My colleague who has been the least liked given his messy desk area and bad manners was complaining about his roommate, who we found out tonight has five girlfriends. This guy has supposedly made it clear to each of these women that he is not exclusively seeing any of them, but none of them explicitly know that he’s seeing four other women. He said his friend doesn’t believe in exclusive relationships and doesn’t want to just see one person. Everyone else in the group laughed and passed judgment. My colleague himself said he thought the guy was an asshole, but also admitted that the women probably had low self esteem given that they put up with him and his antics.

Honestly, I don’t really see the problem if the guy is being explicitly clear to all of them that he’s not being exclusive. In that case, there’s no deception. He’s actually being honest and true to himself. It’s their choice to continue seeing him, and it seems that they have no problem seeing him knowing that he’s probably screwing other women. I don’t think that human beings are naturally wired to be monogamous, and I really think it’s something that society has forced upon people. What is it to someone else if this guy has five or ten girlfriends? Who cares if you have two different people you’re having sex with? How does it really affect anyone else’s life? Having strict rules about what is acceptable and not is what makes people fail.

Endless snow fall

In light of my cancelled work trip, I spent the day working at home, shifting between my dining table and the couch, under my blanket and outside of it. The snow was steadily falling from very early this morning until now. We’re currently almost at 9am and the snow really has not stopped for even a little bit.

I looked down at the ground and saw the white sticking everywhere, and it just made me feel so miserable. I want milk for my tea and Weetbix, but I have zero desire to deal with the sludge and mess that is outside. I do not understand how anyone can get excited by this.

“Snow is awesome,” my colleague said when I told him that I hate snow days. “Yes, snow is awesome,” I responded back. “It’s awesome when I am inside, in my warm apartment, under a blanket drinking a hot drink, watching the snow fall on the OUTSIDE.”

And outside of Manhattan, if I lived in a real house, I cannot even begin to fathom how awful it would be to shovel snow, deal with snow tires and chains, and ice everywhere. That sounds like the most miserable first world life possible. These are the moments when I wished I lived in Southern California and was completely ignorant of this cold misery.

Yet another Nor’easter

Just when I had a trip to Boston planned for the next three days, Mother Nature decides that my plans are completely irrelevant, and all flights and trains get cancelled… which led to my calling the airlines and the hotel to get my refunds. What joy. And as I am writing this, I have one colleague who is stuck overnight in Toronto due to a cancelled flight (and will not be home until tomorrow night, earliest, and that’s being optimistic), a second colleague who was scheduled to come home from Chicago tonight and his direct flight got cancelled, forcing him to take a connecting flight through D.C. into Newark late tonight. Then, a third colleague is taking a flight to Albany and renting a car to drive him 2.5 hours away. That’s how desperate he was to get home. And, he didn’t have a change of clothes, which probably made him want to go home even more.

This is always something that seems comical and absurd to people who have never lived in snowy areas. Whenever we share this information about meeting cancellations, trip interruptions, and flights getting diverted due to weather, my California colleagues always laugh and think it’s so funny and insane. Yes, it’s funny… when you don’t have to deal with it and have no concept of it ever happening to you.