Did you ever notice that sometimes, the older generation are much more laid-back at festivities than young adults who are always tensed about appearances? I suppose the former's age gets muffins on them. It was my mother-in-law's birthday and the day I realised my mind's conscientious density was as lacking as that of a driver tooling his car with water instead of petrol. My family decided on celebrating the occasion at home. The guests for the fiesta included only people from the senior generation. It had been eight months since I was married into a Jain joint family. There were no pretences from them for a newcomer. Each of them were habitual around me. I tried being the same, only I was bashful. But being a discreet, weird, watchful, reflective thinker, only talking where may be necessary, I can say I went overboard with myself. Being the first amongst family and friends to get married, I had always been too apprehensive. The satisfaction of feeling accepted was my target. Even though I might have not needed to, I decided that the best way to express my adoration for the new folks was by impressing them by taking up the task of cooking all by myself with the secret ingredient of love, for the get-together. Earlier, cooking for me used to be all about melting cheese on bread, pun intended. Then I cooked only to find that no one ate it or it was too difficult or only to find that it looked like nothing in the photos of recipes on the internet. Over the years though, I had mastered ‘some' exotic looking dishes. It was a way to show-off my culinary skills and get a few compliments in my kitty. My sister-in-law and I prepared a menu for our little get-together. It all seemed easy (only someone should have told us that if it seems easy, we're doing it wrong). We went over it a million times, always trying to add something better to satisfy our guests and to make it part of the entertainment. Yes, food is the life and soul of the party here. Using the best of my knowledge in the area I tried and included the most delectable and colourful looking dishes to flaunt my skills. Well, cooking is like chemistry. Only by tweaking and mixing the most interesting substances do you get a reaction. In this case reactions would be appreciative or detractive. I sorted out the house to make it look neat before the guests arrived and kept all essentials like water, tissues and food. Sweating the vegetables for flavour, bruising herbs to bring out their full flavour and decorating it with a chiffonade of cilantro was all done. The appetizers which consisted of ingredients like paneer and bread were all prepared and the desserts and cake were baked – all in a birthday's work. It was now time to play the perfect host. A playlist that I compiled earlier with Indian melodies from the past started to buzz. A certain level of joy exuded while I greeted the guests. They hailed in return along with compliments about the décor, the clothes and the aroma of the special chemical tweaks from the kitchen. My timid nature came in the way and we all went about our own ways. Everyone was perfectly dressed. There were games and the whole bunch of elderly visitors enjoyed themselves as if to say nobody was watching them at the fiesta. There was a slice of merrymaking and story baking. The food was served, eaten and then I hit my head. I had liked the look and peel of the dishes but it did nothing to honour my mother-in-law. At the bake of my mind I hoped to turn bake the clock. It so happens that the celebrant didn't eat cakes, English-desserts, English-bread, cottage cheese or any dishes with ketchup which primarily constituted all of the dishes in the menu. My half-baked menu plan was a disaster! The quest to feel a certain way trapped my mind into ignoring the obvious. I expected a litany of salty complaints from my folks but to my surprise the whole situation was ignored. My kind-hearted in-law didn't eat anything but she discounted the situation. My fear of being judged was false. All I can say is that I'm lucky-fluky but that doesn't mean I did the right thing. I did bake a mistake. I put all of the attention to the taste of the food rather than the person who was supposed to be honoured with it. There was no change in the molecular structure and no chemical reaction. Like someone said ‘soiree' seems to be the hardest word. I can only remember one quote by Ben Tolosa- ‘Most jokes come from good intentions – and most mistakes too.' After all, tomorrow is another birthday.

Since becoming inherently laid off; my time has become deluded with ambition, and hurtles. As I recap this summer; I engulf the memories then chased down with the idea that winter will be slightly better. If I'm fair; I can't emphasize enough how hassling it was trying to solve fractions; repeating steps multiple times with my daughter. Not to mention; the encouraging YouTube links that entails the directions from the lighthearted teachers. Needless to say, the links rarely ever worked. From juggling several online services to accommodate the different subjects. To video uploads demonstrating exercise regiments for phys ed. To google meets that never happened, due to inactive codes or, unsupported software. Then there's the "cat chewed my computer charger" so lets add two weeks of completed online learning from my Android. The uncertainty of school due to Corona-virus is unsettling. Although saddened to have reached the end of the school year without experiencing the awe of 5th grade continuation. We made it through the first hurtle.. Working for a full-service hotel; one would think my employment was salvageable. Wrong! I've been laid off since March 18th, and months later; my phone still hasn't rang. Hotel chains were effected widely due to the pandemic. Business trajectory is on the decline for the remainder of the year. Fortunately, a predominant congregated mix of lefties and righties stamped the approval of providing us fellow Americans extra financial assistance. What, you thought I was gonna to complain? I'm content with the gesture. Though somewhere in between the minimum weekly deposits and constant runs to Walmart. My cup remains half full. During this down time, I danced around the topic of self doubt. Becoming apprehensive to what my next steps would be. I mean, I now have goals that were put on hold because of the pandemic. I'm not sure how I see myself coming out of this pandemic. How do I manifest my potential so that I come out on top? Just keep my eye on the prize, and keep writing. Sadly, the death of George Floyd detoured me from writing. Another unarmed black man dies by the hands of police. Not only that, but to experience the silence of particularly close white acquaintances is baffling. To know that discussing racism will continue to be evaded and contradicted; by not only justifying wrongful actions, but persecuting the victim according to his past. People are so closed minded. I felt anger ten times over. I felt shame, undesirable. To think Facebook was appropriate for expressing my thoughts. I should've known better. The rant and raving over Black Lives Matter, to Anti-fa, to disbanding the police. It was unending, one sided arguments. I will never get to where I'm going, if I keep feeding the very entity that's distracting me... so I got my ass off Facebook. My husband is German and Irish, so as an interracial couple it is important to use the moment instead; to enlighten, openly discuss point of views with my family. Living in St. Cloud MN. My family and I were honored to attend one the memorial for Floyd. To see so many people from different walks of life, come together; is heartening, and powerful. As a mother of a black child , I am afraid of what lies ahead for my daughter. I can only teach her, until she's come onto her own. Until then, I where my crown triumphantly for her. Well, as I stated previously; I got my ass off of Facebook, and put my focus back into writing. I was finally able to complete my screenplay now copyrighted and registered to the Writers Guild of America West. Day and night, weekends, five drafts later... I finally did it. Although attending the writers conference in Austin TX was the plan, however that dream was crushed by the NAZI alias known as Corona-Virus. As if it wasn't easy enough to become discouraged as a writer. All in all, I've conquered the hardest part...completion. Afterwards, a road trip sounded fairly accommodating after being on lock down. Ehem! COVID. We packed the Kiddos, rented an SUV bound for Fort Myers Florida. It was a day and a half journey across seven states. Wisconsin blows. To arrive at our beach front hotel, with ocean side restaurants. The sun; miserably hot, the ocean warm enough to bathe, and not think twice about the bull sharks that lurked just where the shallow clashes with the dark cold. Fortunate to make it back home safely before the fleeting surge in corona cases. Well worth the trip. Back home, and anxious to write more driven than before. Two screenplays in the making. With unemployment ending soon. I'll eventually apply for suitable work, until I am updated from my current employer. As of now; work is not promising, but what can I do. Optimism is key. Also, since mandating wearing masks; I've gotten acquainted with my breath. Lets just say... I almost blamed someone else. We'll just leave it at that.