Throbbing

Some words his you like a boulder, heavy and instantly crushing.

Some words hit you like needle, sharp and painful at first but not too deep, just nagging.

Some words don't hit you but hug you like your comforting mother after you've scraped you knee.

And sometimes words feel like your leg falling asleep, at first you are numb and you think you can walk it off but you get a weird tingling sensation that you aren't sure if its going to hurt or just be a throbbing slightly crippling sensation for a while.

That last one was how I felt when I learned Punk Sister died this weekend.

While she was not my actual biological sister, she was someone I was good friends with for a time while I supervised her back at the University. I don't bestow the term sister loosely (whatever Cheeky Monkey may think), and Punk was someone I not only had the pleasure of mentoring and watching be oh so successful in her jobs at University, but she was someone I could talk and confide in, and share bits of insight I couldn't necessary impart on all staff members. Moreover, between myself and Naysayer P Squirrel, we were excited to help her get into graduate school in Colorado for Higher Education and Student Affairs. So she would be my sister and colleague in the very field I'm in still, graduating at the same time as me. Instead, she has a heart attack that her body couldn't bounce back from.

When you get that numbing, throbbing news, for me at least passing the word on feels like you are in a dog pile and another person just jumped on top, you can feel the pressure pushing down on top of you and telling someone else heavy, tragic news just adds a weight of sadness. Everyone reacts the same, stunned silence and shock. It weighs on you.

I heard the news at 4:30am. Why was I still awake? I guess luck and the weekend nature of my nocturnal stupidity worked in my favor. To hear Naysayer P Squirrel with tears in his throat, who'd just returned from celebrating his birthday to such horrible news, hurts. He was even closer to Punk Sister than I was, having worked with her the longest. Steakhouse was on staff with her. The new numbed her too. I had to pass the word to Heavy Spy and Tenshi, who also worked closely with her and Steakhouse. I passed word to Chai Ducky, who share that staff bond with me and her. In fact, on our last week on staff together, Chai Ducky, Punk Sister and I went out for tacos for the first time as just friends and not supervisor supervisee. That was my next reaction to the throbbing, remembering the good times.

Like all the staff videos to introduce her to her residents. Like the extra leadership clips Punk Sister worked on over the summer such as RAbot. When I first got to know her on my first day as a supervisor, when she and Naysayer were talking about craziness of Degrassi, which she had been watching all summer long for the slow office assistant days. How she would always be on top of her programs and passives and everything in between, even if she was "slacking". The high expectations she held herself to, and the surprise she felt when she would succeed, whether that was getting an RA job, getting a summer internship or getting into grad school. I think about how Naysayer, Banana Slug and I would always talk so proudly about Punk Sister: Yea she was my PA and probably the best I had. Or yea she's been a great leader and RA. Or yea she's going to go far.

And she did go far. I don't like thinking of her life as cut short because she did live it well. Far is relative. But unfortunately, it's relative to us, and we are still her, watching time press onward away from her.

So for the second time in a year, I mourn the loss of a former PA, a colleague and a friend. I talked about my friend dying a year ago last January. That loss had been coming, and I had just gone to a prayer service about when she passed the next day. This one was a surprise. I had just talked to a professor who knew Punk Sister mutually THIS WEEK. I had been thinking about her, and even though we hadn't talked directly what with the madness of grad school, being several states apart, and her minimal facebook activity, I will always feel a bond with her.

So blogging is one way I mourn, if you knew her and need to talk, vent, or whatever, please feel free to call or chat. Take a chance to appreciate those around, tell them you love them, thank God for life given. I feel no anger or resentment at death, though I know others can and will, so pray for them if you are the praying time, and keep Punk Sister's family in your thoughts. Because as much as I can't help make this blog seem like its all about me and the tragedy of the loss of my friend, it is not about me at all. It is about her family, and those she touched who have lost her spunky, fearless, fun, tell it as it is manner, and are left with great memories and the hope of something better beyond.

Next week, I'll recap the otherwise lovely weekend I had and the wonderful people in my life who made it happen. Thank you for that. You are loved. For now, I'm just going to remain contemplative and prayerful, and try to honor the memory of the life of Punk Sister.

Food for the peoples

As I get back into the swing of blogging, I remember why I chose Sunday as my new post day. Besides being the day where I tend to have the most discrepancy for my time, its generally also the day where I can be a bit more alone with my thoughts, and be more reflective. This is facilitated by my weekly commitment to attend Sunday Mass, which I admittedly have severely failed at this summer. While there are several reasons for this (Ohio doesn't believe in evening Mass in the summer, China, doesn't believe in widespread churches, traveling doesn't believe in being conducive to church attendance, and James doesn't believe in not being too damn lazy sometimes) the important thing is I made it to Mass today. It was really striking and gave me a lot to think about banquets and eating and bringing people together. So yes, if you couldn't tell, there is religious content in this post, but I hope you'll keep reading to hear my thoughts on food and coming together.

The main impetus for this topic was when the priest in Mass today remarked, "I'm Italian, and food is a big deal to me". Though the audience laughed, I reflected about how Italians do very much value the family meal. Dungeon Daddy will be the first to attest that a family feast is one of his favorite things, and it is expected and desired to be a part of any family gathering for this reason. I remember my own meals at one of my best friends' home in elementary school whose parents were Italian. While whenever I visited other friends places it was customary to be an excuse to go out to dinner or order pizza, at this place we had a family dinner of pasta, complete with dinner conversation and semi-proper etiquette. Of course, in my trip to Italy, in particular our pizza wedding rehearsal dinner we all gathered in a wonderful Italian restaurant and truly experienced a less cliched version of "when you're hear you're family" as I was welcomed into a group of people I'd met literally the day before.

This idea of communal meals, great food, and the power that underlies it is not just an Italian thing by any means. In China, the banquets we attended had great significance as a place to recognize people, give them face, sort to speak, and demonstrate hospitality, generosity, and honor. In the Mexican culture, for example when I went to Pandita's graduation last June, I experiences very similar warm acceptance from her huge family, with great food, desserts and drinks. And its not just a cultural generalization. Cardmaster Cider welcomed Powder Climber and I back with a little home cooking and Dandy Woo recent married BTW, says shes excited for her and her hubby to host us (I've already been over like 5 times to visit and helped her make dessert for welcoming Tall Bear and the rest of us back).

So these meals are, in a sense, a chance for love. The deep heartfelt love from a family. The love of food. The love of new faces and old friends. Yes, even the romantic love. I mean classic first date, take the girl to dinner right? There's some rationale to that too. And as the priest went on, I reflected with him on the nourishment physically, emotionally, and spiritually we get from a meal. And as a Catholic, we take that very literally, the Jesus actually is the body and blood present in communion. It's probably the hardest message for an outsider to understand and one of the few truly Catholic doctrines in Christianity. But as a Catholic, as one who believes all I profess to believe, to discuss the depth of the ceremony I celebrate on a weekly basis, the multitude of layers taking place in the Mass, its disheartening that I've missed Mass so much this summer. Because as I was sitting there I felt the rejuvenation of getting reacquainted to the sacrament of Communion, re-capturing that great feeling, much like we have after Thanksgiving or Christmas. That heartfelt satisfaction of being in the right place with the people who love you and welcome you. And I can't imagine being anywhere else.

-JTY

Reading: Finished book three of the Dresden Files, I should probably get the rest.

Listening to: What makes you beautiful- One Direction. This is not by choice. Cali Foodie keeps getting it stuck in my head cuz its her ringtone and she plays it all the time.

Playing: Skyrim at last. Only a year late...

Home

I know some of you have seen the post I put up earlier this week of my China trip. I plan on touching it up and making it more readable, so I have taken it back down. I just needed to get it off my phone because I was afraid to lose the whole thing. So I'll send a message when its updated.

Having spent most of my summer traveling, I've had time to reflect a bit on this concept called home. I spent five weeks in China. That's a long time for a trip, perhaps the longest I may ever take. It was long enough to know that I was going to be in one place for a while, in this case Wuhan University. That means getting settled and saying things like "let's make this place feel more homey". But was the foreign language student dorms at WHU really my home for 5 weeks? I would say no. It was a place I unpacked. It was also a place could retreat to, a place I could sleep in, which in my case definitely means its a place where I felt more comfortable, safer, at ease. But was it much different from staying in a hotel room for a long time? Sure I did laundry but I still kept some clothes in a suitcase. Getting settled isn't or feeling safe isn't enough to be a home.

Naturally, I say I'm going home when I return to my parents house and also when I return to my apartment. I remember my siblings giving me a hard time every once in a while when I was back in California because I was saying I'm heading home when I left the folks place to go back to my apartment and they're like, you are home. I would stop and think, you're right, because I just told my roommates that I was heading home to see my family. OK so I have two homes now? Is that still the case as I live in Columbus now?

The obvious answer is that California is my home. I spent the last two weeks there between China and returning to school.Yet, when I walked into my house, the place my parents have changed every single time I returned (the first time they painted the house and changed the locks... just saying), there was a level of familiarity enmeshed with a sense of newness. However, walking into my room,  I was informed that I was now staying in my sister's old room, the new guest room. This means I have now presided for prolonged periods in all three of the bedrooms in my house. I don't know how many times I found myself wandering into my mom's new office and stopping, wondering where my bed went, before remembering I now stayed next door. Is it home if I get lost in it?

What about Columbus? Within an hour of landing, I was playing games with Powder Climber, Cardmaster Cider, and Hopeful Introspective. By the next day, I was catching up with Cali Foodie over sushi, and saw Dandy Woo and several other cohort members at a birthday party that evening. I was so excited to catch up with these people, just like I'd been seeing all my friends in CA. I mean in two weeks I managed to visit with Mama Goldfish, Kareem, Alejandro, Brock, Clark, Bridges, Nemesis, RC Tequila, Dungeon Daddy, Heavy Spy, Tenshi, Red Button, Pokeboss, Captain Peanut, Naysayer P Squirrel, Banana Slug, VG Anteater, Whedon Watchedit, Chai Ducky, and even Spam Boa! In addition to several family gatherings, hangouts with Cheeky Monkey and Drew Jules York,  maybe home was where the people are.

So what is a home? It's a place of comfort? Yes. A place of familiarity? Yes. A place of people you care about? Yes. A place where you stare at the sunset over the ocean, followed by the moon reflecting off the waves as a bonfire burns behind you, emitting a sense of peace and nostalgic happiness. Yes. Most definitely yes. I think that nostalgia bit is important, at least for now. A true home is where memories are made. Where memories are recalled with fondness. Where new memories are welcome. I think the place that has all of the above is the place that I call home. The overly cliched home is where the heart is, while accurate, is not descriptive enough. Home is where I have been so blessed. China had memories and comfort and even people, but it wasn't a home yet. Columbus has people and I'm making memories, but the nostalgia hasn't started yet. Only California has that. Someday, I may look back on Ohio and say it was my home for a while, but its not at the point yet where it feels like home.

That's why when I visit all those people back there I'm excited, because they are helping me make this place a home. Naysayer P Squirrel said to completely immerse myself here or I would be unhappy. I'd call that good advice. But for now, home is still in California, still the place I'm heading back to someday, hopefully sooner than later. Still the place Cali Foodie and I talk about fondly, the place I can't help but mention in passing conversation, still a part of my identity here in Ohio. I have many homes in the making, but for now, its a big one, Southern California, where my parents live, my friends reside, the University, the beach, the sun, the smell of salt on the breeze as it blows the smog over the traffic, the place where I know people at church. I'm blessed to have a home. I'm glad for more.

Updates on China very soon! Enjoy the return of the blog!

-JTY

Listening to- Soul to Squeeze, Red Hot Chili Peppers, who also remind me of home and are kinda my anthem these days. Apparently Drew Jules York agrees.

Reading: Dresden Files- a film noir crime book staring a wizard. what can't be good about that

Playing: League of Legends, time to get back into gaming