Next Challenges

     Now with Thanksgiving a rounding success, it's time to focus on the next big challenge of the year: Christmas!

     My in-laws accepted my mother very well and it was a relief to be back in an environment where I didn't have to be tense or ready to think of solutions.

     The banana bread was devoured at work and I baked a second one to take to my in-law's with a side twist.

     Along with my banana bread, I decided to make a roll cake! I baked a thin vanilla cake, made a cream cheese frosting-filling, and rolled all that together with some strawberries and blueberries. It was my first time making this weird log o' yums, but it was well-received and I was quite proud of it too.

     I've been thinking about what I want to leave behind when I do pass on... I hope to leave a few recipes, a legacy almost. I just haven't been very inspired as of late. My creativity has been shot for a while now. I feel like it's been buried and one day, I felt it try to break out but didn't know how to express it. So I let it sink down again.

     I don't know if I'll be able to draw, write my novels, sing with feeling again. I can barely get out of bed nowadays on my days off. Obviously I'm depressed, I know this. I hope to not let it affect my eating however. I may not be hungry most days but I still force food down at reasonable times and I try to make the healthiest decisions. I'm pushing through but sometimes it feels like I'm just going through the motions. Especially with the consumerism of the season.

     I hope to accept the future as it is and focus on just enjoying the route there. I hope to focus on the now and just accept the later.

     I think challenging myself helped since nothing is very engaging at work and I keep being lied to by the higher-ups.

    SO... for the Christmas season, I want to try my unpracticed hands at a Beef Bourgeoisie. Even back in culinary school, I did not make this dish properly (oversight on their part) and I think it's an injustice done to my wallet.

      I'll let you know if it's a success or a mess!

     Till next time!

Planning

     So much to do... so friggin' little time!

     

     Yes that last part now takes on new meaning to me but let's not focus on that now.

     I have been stressing about distracting myself with an endless task list for the next 48 hours. I am currently baking a banana bread which I will take to a potluck at work tomorrow morning. It is an easy recipe and I'm quite glad to mess with it to make it better.

     I have not mentioned (I think) that as an upcoming triple-threat, I am a writer, singer and a CHEF!

    Well... actually I classify a chef as someone who's worked about 10yrs in their respected field. So... I am merely a cook. Still.

     I graduated culinary school with an Associate Degree in Culinary Arts in 2012 and since, I've had multiple jobs within kitchens. I still have so much to learn and eat and make... part of why I'm so anxious about it all ending. Like why the...

     FOCUS!

     I wasn't even supposed to work tomorrow. I chose to pick-up the shift. The potluck just happened to be that day right before Thanksgiving (which is weird cuz it should take place afterward to get rid of the leftovers) so I decided to bring homemade banana bread. I have made this before for my in-laws and it's been a smash so now, I take it to work.

     Speaking of my in-laws, Thanksgiving is at their house! So Thursday morning, I'm going to wake up, eat a small breakfast, get dressed and go visit my dad at the cemetery because I couldn't go for father's day. Then I will come back home, hopefully nap for a while, and wake up in time to go to my boyfriend's house with my mom in tow.

     That has it's own significance as this will be the first time my mother will be introduced to his family in eight years!

     Needless to say, we are both sweating.

     Wondering if Thanksgiving will be something to be grateful for... or if it'll be a traditional disaster, til next time!

     

Sleep

     Last night, sleep came easy.

     Considering I took on a lot of work the night before and the morning of yesterday, sleep was pleasant. The addition of sharing the sheets with the love of my life was the... ahem... final nail on that coffin.

     Felt chills with that one.

     Woke up to wish him a joyous day and then walked out to an empty house.

     I think it's the first time this week that I've been able to sleep without interruption. Without waking in the middle of the night with panic and thoughts of the biggest fear I've known. I thought my arachnophobia would be the worst that I'd have to deal with... but this is worse.

    Fortunately, I had an amazing day yesterday (a few hiccups) and the best sleep this week.

    I never appreciated sleep so much. I almost thank this anxiety for making me appreciate little things... even if it's a double-edged blade. Appreciation and remorse go hand-in-hand these days. I'm happy I experience something, then I'm sad that I'll leave it one day, then fear that day. The end of all days. The end of all my own memories. The end of being able to create more.

     There are those chills again. The ones that turn my blood cold, make it hard to breathe, send my heart racing faster than ever. The ones that say, 'It's true. One day you will die." I have been told to breathe. My mind argues to do it until I can't anymore. I've been told to take it a day at a time. My mind retorts that my days are numbered. I've been told to appreciate the good and brush off the bad. My mind replies that nothing matters because it's all going to end.

     I don't know what's gonna happen when we pass on. I don't know why I'm being hit with the anxiety now. I don't know why I want answers I KNOW do not exist. I don't know why I imagine the end, my last breath, nearly every moment that I'm idle. All I know is that I have to come to grips with this. I had before and now it came back 40xs stronger for some reason.

     I have to accept this part of living. Everything dies. Everyone dies. Others have come before me and have gone. The most we can do is try to make this world better for those we leave behind. 'We must live well to die well'- the Dali Lama has said.

     I believe this is a thought that would help.

     Instead of lashing out at people and falling to levels where you don't belong, we can help the helpless. We can clean up the messes left by those before us. We can fix the wrongs and accept the changes. We can flow with time. I have to believe that if I can help those that are worst off than myself, I will feel better about leaving this world behind... because at least I'll have done something meaningful.

     I don't know if that negates everything and makes it selfish. I just wanna do good. This world is tough and beautiful and a hell of a struggle. I just wanna help others who may need it.

Til next time!

Annoyed

     It's not easy to follow the words of the Great Lama overnight but I have been putting effort in it, despite many a challenge today.
     First, rude customers at work. Did people all of a sudden forget to say 'please' and 'thank you'. Or to  make eye contact? Or to hand money over to a lady instead of throwing it on the counter like she was a hooker they're paying for the night?
     Second, the stress of coworkers impeding on my domain as barista. They're moving things, demanding drinks be made, rushing me, while also customers wait to be served.
     Third, Stan Lee's memorial uproar.

     I  understand different people have different ways of dealing with grief but when the loss of one individual... one famous individual sparks a loud uproar, I will admit that I get annoyed.
     I, and many others, have been dealing with acute anxiety over our mortality for a long time... months in my case. Seeing posts about living your life to the fullest because you never know when it'll end is bullshit. Lee was old. Everyone knew his time was nearing and he's been able to live a good life. Saying or claiming to have any big part in that except throwing your money at him is arrogant, ignorant and selfish.
     Posting about enjoying life and all that you're grateful for all of a sudden doesn't make you valid or important. You underline yourself as sheep. Posting something related cuz you think it'll get you noticed. Enjoying your life has nothing to do with Stan Lee. Post about the man directly, not how his death affects you because it really doesn't.
     I'm not saying he wasn't a great man or that the stuff he (semi-) took credit for and created himself wasn't friggin' awesome. I'm saying don't pretend he's family or that you love his work cuz he hasn't drawn anything for a while.... we're talking decades.
     I don't know what happens when we die but I know he wants you to remember his life... not make it about you and yours. He lost his. Respect that so others can respect yours.

Returns

     The anxiety hit again.

     Yet I'm focusing on the words of the Dalai Lama, 

           

"We cannot hope to die peacefully if our minds have mostly been agitated by emotions like anger, attachment or fear. So if we wish to die well, we must learn how to live well... we must cultivate peace in our mind, and in our way of life."

    In this respect, I choose to believe that a peaceful mind will bring about a peaceful end... thus I must achieve this peaceful mind.

     Easier said than done.

     That's the point of this blog!

     We shall work on our anxiety together and, though mine is severely focused, learn to understand it and control it.

     I don't know what kind of person I'll be without my fear. I only hope that it's a happier, better adjusted, more powerful woman who knows it's all going to be okay and that I can pass it on to future generations.

     It's all going to be okay.

     This life is about deep breaths and one step at a time.

    Even if we all know how it ends, it's probably not the end. It's another day. It's another adventure.

     Focus on taking it a day at a time. Change is scary but it is inevitable.

     And change can (and will) be good.

     I will probably return tomorrow. At some point we'll move on to another topic but for now, I will not shy away from a tough topic. I refuse to find it depressing anymore and I want to accept it so I can move on. I may need the help of this blog and from whomever is reading as anxiety is new to me and the journey is confusing.

     Til next time!

    

Resurfacing

   It has been 5 years since my last blog post and I apologize to whomever has seen my blog and myself for not having resurfaced sooner.

  My grandfather, for those that remember, has passed away on Jan of 2014. This year, Thanksgiving lands on his birthday and I feel that it is time to celebrate his life as well as my memories of him. It's been hard to deal with his departure due to losing someone who's been a part of my entire life thus far. My mind recently has moved into a dark, fearful and anxious place and my own writing has taken a toll. If I could find a piece of solace by writing out a bit of my thoughts here, I am hopeful that others who may need help find it here.

    My mind isn't like others. She wants challenges and answers. She doesn't shy away from scary thoughts... thus, the problem. There are no answers for recent thoughts! There is no one who can tell me the facts without religion or speculation. There is no science here. It is merely an experience we all must take at some point and hopefully, we aren't afraid when we do. The generations following us cannot take from our wisdom of the experience because we can no longer share it! Any psychic or medium worth their salt will tell you the same because we are not to know. They may be able to aid, talk and see spirits but they are not to know what crossing over will be like. If they say they do, they're filthy liars.

     These are facts that I'm coming to terms with but it is the hardest struggle yet. I cannot accept the truth of how time marches on and the cruelty of having conscious thought of it! Yet I know I must. I hate the pain I went through watching my grandfather wither and pass and the thought of putting someone I brought into the world through that is torture (I'm not pregnant yet). I hope to one day have kids but these thoughts are making want to spare them that later.

       How's that for a resurfacing post?

       I hope to write more on the lighter side of things while also dealing with this new anxiety.

      I also hope to find other souls who will walk this journey with me because I know I'm not alone in my thoughts.

       Let's try to not be afraid together.      

Vampiric Novel: Eleen Nivarra

Wow this post is late. I apologize. There have been a lot of distractions. All those who are (or had been) taking care of a grandparent with dimensia will understand. The rest... well, your patience is appreciated. [I'm not sure if I'll ever go into detail about my grandfather but if I do, I apologize in advance for any depressing details that may lead you to feel sorry for me. Don't feel sorry. Please, I beg of you.]

*Ahem* Moving on!

Following my Twilight babble, I mentioned that I have written a novel in the vampiric style oh, so popular today. Except in my novel, vampires are not little twinkly vegetarian fairies. Instead, they are the bloodsucking monsters that haunt the nights. They feed and hold humans as their bloodslaves. They avoid sunlight at all costs and hold no conscience for their actions. They are monsters and they relish in it. 

Why does my novel stand apart from the countless versions already out there? I've noticed that all those novels center around pure vampires or vamps and werewolves. Occasionally, I'll find a jewel where another creature is mentioned but is still centered on vamps.

My first-person novel centers around a rarely mentioned creature: a dhamphir (dahm-feer). A dhamphir is part vampire/ part human. Dhamphirs have a soul and need both blood and human food to survive. They can go out in sunlight but not for very long. They have almost all the characteristics of vampires except their speed and strength is slightly diminished by their human side.

In my novel, the dhamphirs have a connection to an element. The main four elements are water, earth, fire and air. They can use their elements to heal themselves quicker and for sustenance. Their other powers include slight telepathy/telekinesis. Dhamphirs are born when a male vampire and female human have intercourse (whether voluntary or not) because the female's uterus is alive and able to carry the baby to term [I'll answer the 'vamps can't get it up' issue soon. Hold on!]. A dhamphir is created because the vampire genes are more dominant to the human ones. But the human qualities remain so they merge. From birth, dhamphirs age like humans until they reach maturity (approx. age 28) and then their aging slows to near-immortality. They will die but it takes a very,very long time. Being gravelly wounded could also kill them but it's no easy feat.

My main character is Eleen Nivarra, a 300 year old dhamphir. Her story begins within the confines of a human mental institution. She befriends one of the nurses, Stacey Meiry, and is even protective of her. Stacey figures out what Eleen is through the help of a rare book and promises to keep Eleen's secret. As payment for her silence, Stacey wants answers and bombards Eleen with questions. Later, Eleen is visited by an opportunity and is propelled on a journey back into her past to face her demons and reunite with her origin all while escaping the clutches of an ancient vampire's loyal henchman.

If I were asked to describe my novel in 1 paragraph, that would be it. I left out a ton of other details (of course) but that's the basic idea. I'd like to post up a piece of my novel for you all to review and give me feedback but this post is already lengthy. SO it'll probably be in the next one. Please feel free to give me feedback on my novel so far, please. 

Until next posting!

[Also on the "vampires being unable to perform during the act" issue, here's my most-likely-to-make-sense- explanation: Vampires drink blood to what? To live. The act of drinking blood makes their bodies come alive again, even if just briefly- which makes them drink again. Say it's like refreshing a frozen site on the computer. They refresh their bodies when drinking blood. Doing this before or during the act of intercourse makes them alive and able to perform. And with their bodies being alive, so are their swimmers. Makes sense? YES!]

That is my explanation in the world within my novel. Do with it what you will. Better than twinkle fairies who break beds.