Today, we did a lot of eating and walking while one of my best friends was visiting New York from San Francisco, and we reunited with a friend we hung out with all the time when my good friend lived here in New York five years ago over a steak dinner and then drinks at a bar we’d been to several times together back in 2011 and 2012. It’s funny how things evolve: then, my friend was about to move to Singapore, have her Maui wedding, and transfer jobs halfway across the world. I was in a new relationship and a new apartment and a job I have since left. And my friend here in New York — he was single, living in Manhattan, and continuing his “baller” ways, frequenting Asian night clubs, drinking a lot, and eating at fancy steakhouses every month. We spent a lot of time reminiscing of people who have come in and out of our lives, especially those we had once spent a lot of time with who are pretty much strangers to all of us now.

That’s what New York has made me realize. Even when you think you are close to someone, that you have a connection with someone, or you spend a lot of time with someone — it doesn’t mean they’ll really care about you forever, or even remember your face or name forever. They may even forget about you after the day or night or months you spent a lot of time together. All it takes is one move, one mutual friend who leaves, and it’s “dunzo.” The idea that people “care” about you here seems very fleeting. We may be close today, but we may end up as strangers tomorrow. Hell, my visiting friend is spending separate time hanging out with people I once considered friends but no longer speak to and have since unfriended on Facebook. It’s not like there were any actual falling-outs or fights or official ends to our friendships; it’s just that both sides stopped trying or caring. That’s part of life. She asked me if I wanted to see them, and I said no. She herself hasn’t spoken or been in any contact with them in four years, yet she really wanted to see all of them, even the creepy ones who lusted after her. I haven’t seen or spoken with any of them in that time either, and they live right in this city. It makes me realize even more how special friendships are as we get older and keep in touch with fewer and fewer people. These are the people who actually do care and want to make an effort, and these are the people I love. The people from the past — they’re just in the past. They served a purpose, however superficial or fleeting, in the past, and now that’s all they are — passed.

Chris and I have been very lucky and privileged to have dined at many of the best restaurants in New York City, ranging from Eleven Madison Park, Per Se, Le Bernadin, Daniel, to Danny Meyer’s empire of restaurants, and tonight, Annisa. What differentiates Annisa from all the other restaurants mentioned here is that its executive chef and owner is a woman, and not just any woman, but a first-generation Chinese-American woman. Anita Lo is also the first and only female chef to ever be invited to cook and prepare a state dinner at the White House (in 2015 when Xi Jinping and his wife came from China). I mentioned this fact to my friend, who was appalled that this was only just last year and she’s still the only female chef to have been given this honor.

The Obamas have been very deliberate about making sure that enough women are represented at the White House, and also that women of color are represented. Chris mentioned tonight that Marc Benioff, the CEO of Salesforce, is also trying to do the same thing. All I can say is that I absolutely cannot imagine Donald Trump ever even considering this idea, nor even understanding why this would be important. People say that it shouldn’t be the race or gender that is the reason that people are chosen for certain positions or roles, but I think that no matter what the case is, diversity is of utmost importance, and it’s always deeply disturbing to me when people do not understand what role diversity serves, whether it’s in the boardroom or the kitchen.

After watching last night’s infuriating debate, I was filled with anger, thinking… how stupid can Americans possibly be to be backing someone like Trump in droves? The only criticism I heard of Hillary at my office today was that she “just doesn’t come off as genuine” and sounded like she rehearsed too much for the debate (because apparently preparing for the most watched debate isn’t a smart thing to do. No, I get it… sounding “rehearsed” isn’t very good, but given that the person is competing against a total liar, is the decision really that hard?) . I don’t know about you, but not coming off as genuine is a far cry from being a racist, sexist, bigoted liar. We had some small talk about the debate, and getting exacerbated, I said, “Well, I hope you are all registered to vote!”

And then, it’s like my heart shattered. Two people in my row said the words that I currently hate the most (well, other than “Make America great again!”): “I don’t know if I’m registered to vote.”

Then go fucking register! Go to a place like this that will completely dumb it down for you and make it fail proof!! Don’t just sit there and whine about not knowing whether you’re registered or knowing how! We’re an internet company, so just Google the damn thing! It really isn’t that hard! One of them was one of my direct reports, and I immediately ordered her to go to that site and check to see if she was registered. I even watched her navigate the site to make sure she was going to do it (I can be that overbearing boss… sometimes. But this MATTERS). Apparently, New York City DMV has really made it easy for locals to register simply by checking off a box on their driver’s license or state ID application, so she was registered that way, but at the wrong address. “Correct the address, and soon,” I admonished her. I couldn’t help but be annoyed. I’m supposed to be hiring smart people here.

I just cannot get over the fact that there are so many Americans who think that the voting process or application process is so hard that they don’t even take the time to vote. So many people in this office are in their late twenties and thirties and have never voted. How can they take for granted the rights that they have that other people in the world would die to have? Oh, I forgot. It’s because they have no perspective and only think of their own lives and what’s immediately around them. And especially as women, we should be voting every chance we get because we still haven’t hit the 100th anniversary of the women’s right to vote being a right in this country. There are some women in this country who have absolutely no clue, like the women who would actually register as Republican, or even worse, vote for Trump. Some generations really don’t get smarter.

Autumn officially came to New York at the end of this week, which means that we can expect cooler temperatures very shortly. While Chris gets annoyed about the impending cold, I get excited because it means I can get all my favorite fall produce, including butternut and kabocha squash, a stunning array of sweet potatoes and fingerling potatoes, and honey crisp apples (unfortunately becoming way too popular now and well known). It also means I can do things like make pumpkin bread and test out all the fall recipes I’ve been collecting since the spring now that all these fruits and vegetables are finally available locally. And, it also means I can start planning our early Thanksgiving celebration meal, which I look forward to every year after the last celebration has finished.

I’ve come to embrace the four seasons, especially having come from a city where the seasons didn’t really exist. All I knew growing up was overcast, grey, and cloudy, ranging from the 40s to the 60s. Then, there was what we call “Indian summer,” which is when occasionally out in the Richmond District in San Francisco, we’d see the Golden Gate Bridge clearly from our house on top of the hill by Golden Gate Park, amidst blue skies and if we were lucky, temperatures in the 70s and 80s. We don’t get the gorgeous changing colors of the autumn leaves much in New York other than in Central Park, but I still look forward to the colors anyway especially since we live right by the park. Sometimes when I think of autumn in the northeast, I think how crazy it was that before the age of 18, I’d never seen a real autumn before. And then I think that I look forward to ensuring my future kids get the privilege of experiencing it all the time, whether it exists where we live or to travel to see it.