Halloween 2025

Step into the bloody path

A red moon crosses the skies

A vampire lurks in the dark

Run to escape the bloody fangs

 

Halloween Chills by: Denise M. Cocchiaro

On this night of spooks and gnomes

Of swooning leaves and cringing crones 

Of legends told from ear to ear

Of shrieking cats that grin and sneer

Over the hill and past the tree

A haunted house there said to be

With chill and mist to pierce your soul

And whispering winds to keep you cold

Heed the whispers straight from hell

To keep you safe from witchy spells

For through the night of devilish play

All who tread will rue the day 

Lessons learned

This weekend I went to San Diego for my cousin's wedding or not! I was told that the wedding party and guests would be staying at Rancho Bernardo Inn. This Inn is like a maze, and all the buildings look alike. Also, there are no elevators. You have to carry your luggage up several flights of stairs.

I notice that I forgot to bring my evening purse. As I try to find my way back to the lobby, I see other guests lost in the maze, going back and forth trying to find their way. A staff member informs me that they don't sell purses at their shop, and to go to their spa boutique. After walking for quite some time, another employee tells me that I have long ways to go, and that the place is really far. I give up because I need to get ready and leave.

I text my cousin's son, and tell him that there are a lot of parties here, but I don't see them. He tells me to Uber it to a winery which is 5 minutes from the Inn, and texts me the address. I follow the GPS, but there is nothing but a dead-end. When I text my cousin, he says, "that's so weird," and gives me the name of the winery. Again, google map takes me round and round, and brings me back to the same dead end. It turns out that my cousin gave me the wrong address because that address was the one to the next day's venue.

At this point, I'm thinking let's just forget it. I go purchase an evening bag for the next day, find a restaurant, grab dinner, and call it a night. The next day wasn't any better than Friday. 

My cousin and his mom tell me again to Uber it. The hotel concierge calls in a taxi, tells me that the area is new, and maps have no record of it. The taxi is late. It got lost, and cancelled the order. The valet steps in. They too cannot find the area on their map, but offer to have a car pick me up in 20-25 minutes. I told them never mind, I might as well just take my own car. I told the concierge what difference does it make whether I drive my own car, Uber it, take a taxi, take a horse or a donkey. The point is that this place is not on the map. She agrees.

Once again, I find myself back in the same place. Google map tells me in .3 miles turn right. But how? I cannot go through. On my left, there is a black gate. A truck carrying construction things pulls out of there, and disappears. I take pictures of the area, and send it to both of my cousins. Neither one responds. 

I turn around, go down a bit, and turn left through a neighborhood, thinking perhaps I can find the street because the online wedding instruction said: Go to the house, a shuttle will pick you up, and take you to the venue. 

I see a lady watering her lawn, and her daughter is with her. I ask them if they recognize the name of the street. The daughter looks it up on her phone, and tells me that her apple map shows no such a place exists. A search on MapQuest gives the same result.

At this point, I'm really frustrated, and hungry because with the exception of a small latte, I hadn't eaten all day. So, I leave the area, drive back, find Burger lounge by accident, and order a quinoa burger. 

My cousin's son texts me and says, "Oh, just go through the gate on the left." I'm like, what?! That gate is not even on the street named on the invitation. It's on a completely different street. Also, not only you're responding an hour later, but you couldn't tell me this yesterday? 

I eat, go back to my room, change into my PJs, remove my makeup, brush my teeth, and make plans for the next day with an old friend who lives in Irvine. Three hours later, I get a text from my cousin's mom. She says the same thing as her son.

In the past, things like this would have bothered me. Not this time. I mean, I was disappointed, but after a little while, I think what happened was unimportant. I ask myself what lesson did you learn from this experience? My cousins' shortcoming—they don't care about their guests or their family. Things did not have to turn out this way. 

All they needed to do was to put the name of the correct street with instructions on their online invitation: when you hit a dead end, ignore the GPS, turn left, and go  through a black gate. But they couldn't be bothered with this tiny detail. They couldn't care less about a close family member who spent a lot of time getting ready for this wedding, drove through three hours of traffic, and was given the run around.

This is not the first time that they have done me wrong, and I have always let it go. But this time, they have crossed the line, and I'm cutting them, and anyone connected to them out of my life. Lessons learned...

Sometimes, no matter how hard you try to make something happen, life has a different plan, and you just have to go with it. For whatever reason, I was not supposed to be at this wedding. I enjoyed having dinner on my own. And the next day wasn't so bad either once I got over my frustration. Sunday was the best out of all three days because I got to see old family friends on my way back. I ended up doing exactly what I was meant to do. Again, lessons learned...

  

Hans Christian Anderson Museum

On my way over to Berkeley, I stopped by Solvang. I had been there before, but never got around to see the Hans Christian Anderson Museum.

The museum is free, and to get there, you need to enter The Book Loft, and climb a set of stairs. They may have an elevator, if you have a bad knee. I didn't look. Call before you go.

It's a quiet, quaint museum with the smell of old books, and an ambience of a petit library.

He wanted to be an actor, and join the Royal Theater in Copenhagen, but when he didn't qualify, he took on writing.

One of his hobbies was papercutting, and he used it to portray his characters in his stories, particularly to children during his book readings.

A scale model of Anderson's boyhood home in Odense Denmark, designed by Carl Jacobsen.

In the 1830s, he started to achieve recognition, but he had a troubled life—pulling himself out of poverty through hard work. Hans' first book in 1822, Youthful Attempts, was written under his pen name—Villiam Christian Walter.

He often felt insecure, and like an outsider because of his lanky looks, and impoverished background. Although the museum only showed his infatuation with women, I did a bit of research on him, and found articles about his confusion about his sexual orientation as he fell in love with both men, and women. He often felt lonely with a desire to find love.

No matter what his diaries and biographies say about him, he was an accomplished writer with many talents, and deserves high recognition in history. Not all of his struggles were unique to him because writing is lonely work. And let's be honest. Writers are outsiders. They're not supposed to fit in. They see the world through a different lens. So, if you're ever in Solvang, do check out The Book Loft, and the Hans Christian Anderson Museum. It's worth a visit, especially if you work in the writing world. 

For the love of writing

I've been blogging for a longtime, and I wonder sometimes if anything I write matters to anyone. My posts are a mix of politics, entertainment, encouragement, and information to help people realize that if they're struggling with various issues, they are not alone. There have been times when I just wanted to quit this blog. 

Recently, I ran into an AI artist named Alana Jordan by accident when I was searching for some photos online to go with what I was planning to write. Alana had spread out samples of her work, and offered it free for download. As I went through her illustrations, and music, I realized that she just enjoys her work. 

Sure, she puts herself out there so that someone would hire her, but she is quite generous about giving away free downloads. I'm not a big supporter of AI, because I think a lot of AI work is low in quality, be it writing, music, acting, and etc. Also, there are plenty of people out there who steal the works of creatives and label it as their own with the help of AI. But I thought some of Alana's work was quite good. And if there is no copyright infringement, then what's the harm in a bit of AI done right? 

Anyway, my point here is that she reminded me that creatives do what they do for the love of the arts. They are not looking for approval from the outside. They just like to create good work. Below are a few of my favorite songs 💙 that she created. I added the pictures to go with the music. Enjoy...

The Key to your heart by Alana Jordan 

Love is kind by Alana Jordan 

Island honeymoon by Alana Jordan 

Note: The videos are actually mp3, but being that I am technologically challenged, this was the best I could do. Blogger sometimes gets complicated when you try to load things. I struggle with it often. You need to have some knowledge of HTML which I do not. So, the easiest way for me to upload the songs was to covert them to mp4 and hold my breath because blogger challenges me every step of the way. So, there you have it... 

Social Media

I met up with a friend today. I was telling her that I don't like social media. A few close friends know everything about my life because I share everything with them. I don't hide things. They know me—my ups and downs, my moodiness, why I behave a certain way, and why I do what I do. They know all about my struggles, and I know all about theirs. But I cannot share all the details about my life here. So, my actions oftentimes come across as cold, erratic and crazy. 

I prefer knowing people in person. Hanging out one on one. I sometimes spend time with my cousin and her mom. But there are times when we want to get together just the two of us without her mom. Because the intimate conversation we share is different than the conversation we have when her mom is around. 

There is no way that we can have this sort of connection online. There is much to be said about meeting someone in person and getting to know them. I once tried to connect with someone in the writing world. I "knew" her on twitter, and when I learned that she was going to be at a book show in L.A. I made plans to meet up at the booth where she worked. But that was the end of it. She never put in the effort to meet at another book event. Even our conversations on twitter were shallow. 

I sometimes feel empty when I'm online. It effects my mental health. I want so much more. I want that deep connection. But that deep connection does not exist over a bunch of wires, and electronic gadgets. I prefer spending time in real life. That's why I step away from being on social media. And that's one of the reasons among many that I was contemplating deleting my accounts recently, but I couldn't do it. Something stopped me.  

Here in the U.S, everybody is always busy. Busyness is equivalent to productiveness. It's looked upon with admiration. But in other countries, busyness is not always admired. It's that human connection that's admired above everything else. We all have things to do. We all have work that we need to finish. But if we really wanted to, we would make time for things or people we care about. 

Before driving to Berkeley to visit my niece last weekend, I had a lot to do, and I didn't feel like making such a long drive. She had plenty going on between her studies, internship, charity work, club meeting, and her friends. But we both made time for each other, and ended up having a great time. It is moments like these that I wouldn't trade for anything. 

So, real life vs. social media. Which one do you prefer?