Fruits, and Other Delicious Things, Of the World

I've been admittedly a little busy of late, with some additional stress, being in a measure of pain from stimuli, since I'm listening to an opera for a humanities class, which takes, for me, subjecting yourself to hell for a grade to a whole new level. I've also been thinking about home, where, I should most proudly note, Mom just launched her bid for a state Supreme Court, and actually taking time to relax over my break (last week), something I've traditionally had issues with.

You'd think I wouldn't have time to think, and while this is true, I've been surprised that I've been thinking rather intensely of late, as well. Though not too focused, it's really been about my past, and to some degree coming to terms with some of those details.

Indeed, I think much of this calls to how much I have put myself, to be more precise clear access to my entirety, in various things and concepts. San Fransisco and dim sum, indeed, are some of many things which, upon chance, can quickly remind myself of who I am and was, where I stand, and how that happened. I even get to drink

There are many reasons for that, however. And while some of it isn't pretty, easily put, I was strongly how some of it has been just that.

In fact, where I was thinking the most was when I was heading back to school. My flight plan had me first going to San Fransisco. Now, in all of my life, I have absolutely love San Fransisco and, after two years here, will look for a school in the area. I am one of those who, in fact, left their heart in San Fransisco, and so much more. Some of my most important moments growing up happened there, mostly in Chinatown. Without that city, I'd be a very different person, on many levels.

I thought it was going to be a little bitter, actually. Though it would be nice to see the city from above, I'd never get into the city itself, and it'd feel like an opportunity missed. I wouldn't even get to smell the air, less than enjoy some of the food.

Great thing is, I really did underestimate SFO.

For one, I ended up right next to my gate, so I had a good half-hour to explore. Which, in an airport, doesn't necessarily mean much, because I'm not really a shopper. But I wanted breakfast, so I took off in pursuit of something to eat.

And, in luck that I rarely seem to have, I come right across a place that sold dim sum.

Dim sum, for me, is something similar to Pad Thai, something that really has strong associations, and has a sense of magnificence in eating that's hard to match. It's got an even stronger pull than Pad Thai, for the rarity, and the associations are different. While Pad Thai has some associations with the feeling of personal accomplishment, dim sum gets that of personal exploration.

Needless to say, I jumped into line and ordered my share, and in very little time I was back, several years prior.

The memory isn't specific, but what is important is; I'm at Yank Sing with Mom. I don't remember exactly when (I'd like to say a year or two ago, maybe), and we're talking, and while the conversation went all over the place, it was always carried with a sense of inspiration or interest at the museum we had just visited, about literature, about the city itself (which she knows at a level I don't, having lived there several years while working at a law firm). Most of all, though, I'm laughing, and I'm happy.

Happy in a way that at once is fleeting, and yet so accessible. Scarlet by association, powerful, mysterious, even foreign. And yet, I knew right where to find it, in a broad sense.

Of course, it brings up how much I have put myself, or to be more precise access to my entirety, in various things. Be it a noodle dish, a pork dumpling, a skyscraper, a character, I, in the very physical world, come across what I was, what I stand for, and how I got to where I am. And while that's now all a positive thing (since sometimes trauma gets invested in one thing or another), it isn't certainly a bad thing.

Indeed, I have put myself in the fruits, and other delicious things, of the world.