Worlds.

Trying to break into worlds is hard.

No, this isn’t about me trying to find a way into another galaxy or proving that there is life in space. What I’m stating, is facts, that when you try to break into worlds it’s hard.

The writing community is huge. A lot of book worms, writers, authors, agents, editors, etc. && trying to get welcomed into it is like trying to sit at the popular table in high school. Sadly, I was never invited.

I have never been good at popularity contests && I wasn’t part of the “in crowd” && thinking that the writing community makes me feel like that is a harsh reality. I honestly know it’s not a popularity contest… but I feel like that. I also feel if you don’t have the money to spend you’ll never be published.

I figured the best way for an unknown is to publish it myself. Which is totally fine – I don’t mind doing the hard work. But I really wanted a professional editor to read through it, find the errors but unless I can poop out nearly $3,000 that will never happen. &&& I know they are worth the money, I just don’t have it to spend.

Then I think ‘okay, let’s skip the professional editing.’ Knowing that it’s self published, “most” readers will look over a lot of them. I will just edit the crap out of it.

Next hurdle. To self-publish, you need extra money. Thousands. I found a company that helps self publish but as I began reading I realized that not only do they request thousands of dollars they also keep 80¢ on every dollar for themselves so I would only get 20¢ of every dollar sold. Whereas, if I do it all myself and use Amazon, I get 70% of the royalties.

But then I think about going with my other passion but breaking into the food world is just as hard – if not harder. I guess when they say “you need money to make money” they weren’t kidding. But sadly, here I am with no money.

I did upload a couple chapters of the book. I figured if it gets enough notice that either that company will want to publish it or it shows that if I was to save the money, step-by-step it, that people would be interested in purchasing the book.

Do Dreams Come True?

I wonder how many people actually say their dreams did, in fact, come true. I have a dream. Other than finishing the book that I really need to finish but I’m too lazy to actually do it… I want to own && operate a food truck.

I have two loves in my life. Writing, of course, && cooking, which I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned a few times. I also do believe I said my dream job would be a food writer. Combine the best of both worlds. Travel all over the globe while trying different foods, cooked by different people and just write about it.

But I’m trying not to span too far into the atmosphere. But as I sit here and write this I find myself wondering is wanting to own, run && operate a food truck too far out the scope of reality for me? I get it. It takes money && a lot of it. I can save; I know how to do that. But lets say I did save the money, would I actually ever get to the point where I can do it before I die?

I think that’s half of my issue. A part of me is scared that I won’t see the part of my life where most people do find && achieve their dreams. Sometimes, it takes people into their 40’s & 50’s to actually get it. So I wonder – do I have that long to keep hoping that maybe I can get what I truly desire out of life.

Lately I haven’t felt well. I mean, I don’t feel like I’m knocking at deaths door, I just haven’t felt well. I have been sluggish, and still depressed. Angry, and annoyed. My medicine makes it where I don’t have an appetite so I’m not hungry half of the time. They’ve put me on insulin which I’m pretty sure is half of the depression. I thought I was moving forward, day by day, but I feel sometimes that them putting me on insulin is back tracking. But in reality, I’m pretty sure it’s not.

So that’s me. I’m scared, worried, and freaking out that I don’t have time to do what I want with my life. I want to leave a mark on the world. I want people in the future when I’m no longer here talking about something I achieved. Something I did. Something that makes people remember me. Will it be in the food world, writing world, or both worlds?

Do I think I’m going to write the next literary masterpiece? No, I don’t.
Do I think I’m going to open a food truck that eventually turns into a million dollar business that has restaurants in different countries? No, I do not.
I am realistic.
But at the same time, I don’t feel like I’m achieving anything && I know part of that is because I’m not trying to achieve anything.

I was talking about my food truck dream at work the other night && someone said it’ll never happen while the others either didn’t say anything or said food trucks make bank && if I apply myself I can achieve it. But… where do I apply myself at? I told Boyfriend that I’m working on it && my first step is that I ordered a credit card reader that goes into your phones charging port. It’s something silly and small, but at the same time I feel like I’m heading into the right direction.

What I need is a million people to give me one dollar. That’s it. Spare one dollar for me. If anyone is interested please let me know && I’ll set up the account. In the mean time, I’ll either keep thinking about my dreams, dreaming about my dreams, or trying to crawl out of this round of depression.

Either way, I seem to be doing something, right?

I’m a strange cook…

Or so it feels. I don’t have many things in life I am good at, but cooking is one of them. Not only that, I actually enjoy cooking – a lot. It’s something I’d do for a living if it was ever given to me. I love standing in the kitchen and chopping onions, bell peppers, or carrots. I love to make pasta, ground meat, or chicken dishes. I love finding new recipes and trying them just because I can.

But with dishes I have been making for years some think they are strange – and after talking to some people, I am starting to see just how strange they are. &&& no, I’m not talking about “eating strange foods”, I’m talking about the fact that I make foods, that everyone makes – strange.

Let’s start off slow. Tuna salad.

Everyone I know makes it differently, whether it’s because they don’t like the taste of tuna so they have to have something in it that will overpower the taste, or for some that don’t like mayo. I put the normal stuff, can tuna, mayo, pickles… But then I add onion, tomatoes, && mustard. Sometimes, if I’m feeling it, I’ll add shredded lettuce. But the one thing everyone says is weird – I add scrambled eggs. Yes! I said it. Scrambled. Eggs.

I’ve had multiple conversations with people about how they make it and they all say, “Yes, I add eggs – boiled.” Then there I sit, speechless, because it’s me against the world.

Spaghetti. Everyone I talk to tells me their spaghetti consists of pasta, sauce && meat. I usually have a weird look on my face so I get asked, “what do you put in yours?” Pasta, meat, sauce, mushrooms, black olives, red/green/yellow/orange bell peppers and onions. Mix. Mix. Mix. Top with “foot cheese”. Serve with bread. Enjoy.

I’m not worried about the fact I make food weird, it’s not a big deal to me. I’m used to it, I like my cooking. (My waist size proves that.) I guess I just don’t know where I got it from. I spoke to my grandfather before he passed this year and he said that him and my mother both used boiled eggs, and he didn’t use tomatoes (my mother did). &&& I have only met ONE other person that puts vegetables in their spaghetti.

Most people learn recipes from their family, friends (mostly, apparently, grandmother), co-workers, siblings, aunts, uncles… but me? None of the above. (According to the boyfriend, I am a self taught bad ass.) I don’t remember my mom’s cooking. The only thing I remember is that she loved to cook, but I don’t think I could really tell you one thing she could cook besides tator-tot casserole, which I do NOT put corn in. My grandmothers, well, one lived six hours away, so I wasn’t around her much, && the other… well, let’s just say that her spaghetti had a whole tub of butter in it. I don’t want to cook like her.

I find it sad that I didn’t get recipes passed down to me, but I lost my mom a lot sooner than she had anticipated, so of course she wasn’t thinking about passing recipes down to me. What 40 year old mother to a 15 && 16 year old is thinking about death? So I’m at a point in life where I do not know how to make cornbread dressing, but I figured out a recipe I like. I don’t know how to make all of the Christmas goodies (divinity, peanut brittle…), so I just don’t bring it up.

My grandfather made a wonderful potato soup that I never got the recipe to. He passed away this year, a couple months after me asking for his recipe. Then there was his chili (which I don’t know how to make) and his salsa (that was so hot I’m sure it burns off taste buds).

I did teach myself to cook. I started around the age of fifteen or sixteen. It came down to I either learn or I have to eat bologna sandwiches for the rest of my life – I didn’t find that appealing. So I started out with soups, which I burned a lot of. But my dad ate it anyway. He always ate it, no matter how gross, or burned, or unappealing it was – he ate it. For me. (I also miss him).

I didn’t have much of a start so I started watching A LOT of food network shows. &&& when I say a lot, I don’t mean that as a small amount. If I wasn’t watching SpongeBob SquarePants, I was watching some kind of food show. I have continued to watch them, even now, without cable, I watch a lot of food shows. I look up recipes and redo them to fit my taste.

That’s how I learn. But I still have no idea where I got the smart idea to put scrambled eggs in my tuna salad. Please, people out there, if you use scrambled eggs rather than boiled eggs, let me know.