Me on my way to eat your ass

Was that caption really necessary

IDK, but the music was

Enhance

Image credits: Miles Herbert/Caters News

i want my own place, i want my own place, i want my own place. a place that is nothing fancy, just tiny, cozy, dainty, and a place to make my own. i don’t need it to be anything grand. some place to be able to come home to that is entirely my own, but i am in graduate school and am not making a steady income at the moment. so maybe next year? i want my own space to come home too. i love my parents and love my home and i am so grateful to be able to live with them for free during this year but i wish so badly to have a place of my own. anxiety has been creeping up lately at random points and i am trying to breathe through this all. breathe through a lot.

pay attention to the people who don’t clap when you win.

tomorrow is my birthday and the interview yesterday went amazing and my family is home for thanksgiving so we’re all in the best city in the wOrLD together and my boyfriend is the best thing by far to come back into my life during my 22nd year and last but most importantly Jesus LOVES me SO FREAKIN MUCH and by no means is my life perfect, by no means is my life even CLOSE to being without darkness, but this place, this moment right now, anticipating the start of another year of life and joy and hope– this moment is everything.

TODAY IS THE DAY

TWO UNITS

THREE INTERVIEWS (one is with HR)

LETS GOOOOI

Vegan Thanksgiving Recipes

I’ve gotten quite a few messages asking for some Thanksgiving recipes so I’ve decided to do a lil round up and y’all should reblog and add to it too! you can seriously make anything vegan!

Sides:

Autumn Kale Salad

Vegan Cornbread

Coconut Roasted Sweet Potatoes

Thanksgiving Risotto

Shepherd’s Pie

Stuffing

Balsamic Roasted Brussels Sprouts

Gravy

Mashed Sweet Potatoes

Pumpkin Garlic Knots

Smokey Butternut Mac and Cheese

Green Bean Casserole

Main Dishes:

Roasted Acorn Squash Stuffed with Wild Rice Salad

Quick Black Bean & Sweet Potato Chili

Tofu Pot Pie

Golden Orchard Quinoa (Apple Spiced with Pecans)

Seitan Stuffed with Walnuts, Dried Cranberries, and Mushrooms

Creamy 3-Cheese Spinach & Mushroom Lasagna

Maple Glazed Tempeh, Squash, and Brussels Sprouts

Red Quinoa Pilaf with Kale and Corn

Lentil Walnut Apple Loaf

Cranberry, Apricot and Pecan Wild Rice Pilaf 

Butternut Pasta With Lentil Bolognese

Portobello Pumpkin Ravioli With Sage and Walnut Pesto

Thanksgiving Burgers

Stuffed Eggplant Cutlets in Red Pepper Sauce 

Dessert:

Vegan Date-Pecan Pumpkin Pie

Apple Pie Cheesecake

Apple Pie Oatmeal Cookies

Pumpkin Mousse Squares

Mini Pumpkin Cheesecakes with Gingersnap Crusts

Vegan Pumpkin Bread Pudding

Maple Pecan Pie

“Inside-Out” Chocolate Pumpkin Cookies

Pumpkin Spice Latte Chocolate Pudding Cake

Avocado Cacao Mousse 

Easy Vegan Apple Crisp

Silk Chocolate Pie

Above all, let us all cherish this day with family, friends, and good food. Have a wonderful holiday, everyone :)

since thanksgiving is rolling around any second! here’s some inspiration :)

An old and homely grandmother accidentally summons a demon. She mistakes him for her gothic-phase teenage grandson and takes care of him. The demon decides to stay at his new home.

It isn’t uncommon for this particular demon to be summoned—from exhausting Halloween party pranks in abandoned barns to more legitimate (more exhausting) ceremonies in forests—but it has to admit, this is the first time it’s been called forth from its realm into a claustrophobic living room bathed in the dull orange-pink glow of old glass lamps and a multitude of wide-eyed, creepy antique porcelain dolls that could give Chucky a run for his money with all of their silent, seething stares combined. Accompanying those oddities are tea cup and saucer sets on shelves atop frilly doilies crocheted with the utmost care, and cross-stitched, colorful ‘Home Sweet Home’s hung across the wood-paneled walls.

It’s a mistake—a wrong number, per se. No witch it’s ever known has lived in such an, ah, dated, home. Furthermore, no practitioner that ever summoned it has been absent, as if they’d up and ding-dong ditched it. No, it didn’t work that way. Not at all. Not if they want to survive the encounter.

It hears the clinking of movement in the room adjacent—the kitchen, going by the pungent, bitter scent of cooled coffee and soggy, sweet sponge cakes, but more jarring is the smell of blood. It moves—feels something slip beneath its clawed foot as it does, and sees a crocheted blanket of whites and greys and deep black yarn, wound intricately, perfectly, into a summoning circle. Its summoning circle. There is a small splash of bright scarlet and sharp, jagged bits of a broken curio scattered on top, as if someone had dropped it, attempted to pick it up the pieces and pricked their finger. It would explain the blood. And it would explain the demon being brought into this strange place.

As it connects these pieces in its mind, the inhabitant of the house rounds the corner and exits the kitchen, holding a damp, white dish towel close to her hand and fumbling with the beaded bifocals hanging from her neck by a crocheted lanyard before stopping dead in her tracks.

Now, to be fair, the demon wouldn’t ordinarily second guess being face-to-face with a hunchbacked crone with a beaked nose, beady eyes and a peculiar lack of teeth, or a spidery shawl and ankle-length black dress, but there is definitely something amiss here. Especially when the old biddy lets her spectacles fall slack on her bosom and erupts into a wide, toothy (toothless) grin, eyes squinting and crinkling from the sheer effort of it.

“Todd! Todd, dear, I didn’t know you were visiting this year! You didn’t call, you didn’t write—but, oh, I’m so happy you’re here, dear! Would it have been too much to ask you to ring the doorbell? I almost had a heart attack. And don’t worry about the blood, here—I had an accident. My favorite figure toppled off of the table and cleanup didn’t go as expected. But I seem to recall you are quite into the bloodshed and ‘edgy’ stuff these days, so I don’t suppose you mind.” She releases a hearty, kind laugh, but it isn’t mocking, it’s sweet. Grandmotherly. The demon is by no means sentimental or maudlin, but the kindness, the familiarity, the genuine fondness, does pull a few dusty old nostalgic heartstrings. “Imagine if it leaves a scar! It’d be a bit ‘badass,’ as you teenagers say, wouldn’t it?”

She is as blind as a bat without her glasses, it would appear, because the demon is by no means a ‘Todd’ or a human at all, though humanoid, shrouded in sleek, black skin and hard spikes and sharp claws. But the demon humors her, if only because it had been caught off guard.

The old woman smiles still, before turning on her heel and shuffling into the hallway with a stiff gait revealing a poor hip. “Be a dear and make some more coffee, would you please? I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Yes, this is most definitely a mistake. One for the record books, for certain. For late-night trips to bars and conversations with colleagues, while others discuss how many souls they’d swindled in exchange for peanuts, or how many first-borns they’d been pledged for things idiot humans could have gained without divine intervention. Ugh. Sometimes it all just became so pedantic that little detours like this were a blessing—happy accidents, as the humans would say.

That’s why the demon does as asked, and plods slowly into the kitchen, careful to duck low and avoid the top of the doorframe. That’s why it gingerly takes the small glass pot and empties it of old, stale coffee and carefully, so carefully, takes a measuring scoop between its claws and fills the machine with fresh grounds. It’s as the hot water is percolating that the old woman returns, her index finger wrapped tight in a series of beige bandages.

“I’m surprised you’re so tall, Todd! I haven’t seen you since you were at my hip! But your mother mails photos all the time—you do love wearing all black, don’t you?” She takes a seat at the small round table in the corner and taps the glass lid of the cake plate with quaking, unsteady, aged hands. “I was starting to think you’d never visit. Your father and I have had our disagreements, but…I am glad you’re here, dear. Would you like some cake?” Before the demon has a chance to decline, she lifts the lid and cuts a generous slice from the near-complete circle that has scarcely been touched. It smells of citrus and cream and is, as assumed earlier, soggy, oversaturated with icing.

It was made for a special occasion, for guests, but it doesn’t seem this old woman receives much company in this musty, stagnant house that smells like an antique garage that hadn’t had its dust stirred in years.

Especially not from her absentee grandson, Todd.

The demon waits until the coffee pot is full, and takes two small mugs from the counter, filling them until steam is frothing over the rims. Then, and only then, does it accept the cake and sit, with some difficulty, in a small chair at the small table. It warbles out a polite ‘thank you,’ but it doesn’t suppose the woman understands. Manners are manners regardless.

“Oh, dear, I can hardly understand. Your voice has gotten so deep, just like your grandfather’s was. That, and I do recall you have an affinity for that gravelly, screaming music. Did your voice get strained? It’s alright, dear, I’ll do the talking. You just rest up. The coffee will help soothe.”

The demon merely nods—some communication can be understood without fail—and drinks the coffee and eats the cake with a too-small fork. It’s ordinary, mushy, but delicious because of the intent behind it and the love that must have gone into its creation.

“I hope you enjoyed all of the presents I sent you. You never write back—but I am aware most people use that fancy E-mail these days. I just can’t wrap my head around it. I do wish your mom and dad would visit sometime. I know of a wonderful little café down the street we can go to. I haven’t been; I wanted to visit it with Charles, before he…well.” She falls silent in her rambling, staring into her coffee with a small, melancholy smile. “I can’t believe it’s been ten years. You never had the chance to meet him. But never mind that.” Suddenly, and with surprising speed that has the demon concerned for her well being, she moves to her feet, bracing her hands on the edge of the table. “I may as well give you your birthday present, since you’re here. What timing! I only finished it this morning. I’ll be right back.”

When she returns, the white, grey and black crocheted work with the summoning circle is bundled in her arms.  

“I found these designs in an occult book I borrowed from the library. I thought you’d like them on a nice, warm blanket to fight off the winter chill—I hope you do like it.” With gentle hands, she spreads the blanket over the demon’s broad, spiky back like a shawl, smoothing it over craggy shoulders and patting its arms affectionately. “Happy birthday, Todd, dear.”

Well, that settles it. Whoever, wherever, Todd is, he’s clearly missing out. The demon will just have to be her grandson from now on.

this is so sweet. it made me want to hug someone.

i had to

I WOULD WATCH SIX SEASONS AND A MOVIE

Okay but she takes him to the little cafe and all of the people in her town are like “What is that thing, what the hell, Anette?” and she’s like “Don’t you remember my grandson Todd?” and the entire town just has to play along because no one will tell little old Nettie that her grandson is an actual demon because this is the happiest she’s been since her husband died.

Bonus: In season 4 she makes him run for mayor and he wins

I just want to watch ‘Todd’ help her with groceries, and help her with cooking, and help her clean up the dust around the house and air it out, and fill it with spring flowers because Anette mentioned she loved hyacinth and daffodils.   Over the seasons her eyesight worsens, so ‘Todd’ brings a hellhound into the house to act as her seeing eye dog, and people in town are kinda terrified of this massive black brute with fur that drips like thick oil, and a mouth that can open all the way back to its chest, but ‘Honey’ likes her hard candies, and doesn’t get oil on the carpet, and when ‘Todd’ has to go back to Hell for errands, Honey will snuggle up to Anette and rest his giant head on her lap, and whuff at her pockets for butterscotch.  Anette never gives ‘Todd’ her soul, but she gives him her heart

In season six, Anette gets sick. She spends most of the season bedridden and it becomes obvious by about midway through the season that she’s not going to make it to the end of the season. Todd spends the season travelling back and forth between the human realm and his home plane, trying hard to find something, anything that will help Anette get better, to prolong her life. He’s tried getting her to sell him her soul, but she’s just laughed, told him that he shouldn’t talk like that. With only a few episodes left in the season Anette passes away, Todd is by her side. When the reaper comes for her Todd asks about the fate of her soul. In a dispassionate voice the reaper informs Todd that Anette spent the last few years of her life cavorting with creatures of darkness, that there can be only one fate for her. Todd refuses to accept this and he fights the reaper, eventually injuring the creature and driving it off. Knowing that Anette cannot stay in the Human Realm, and refusing to allow her spirit to be taken by another reaper, so he takes her soul in his arms. He’s done this before, when mortals have sold themselves to him. This time the soul cradled against his chest does not snuggle and fight. This time the soul held tight against him reaches out, pats him on the cheek tells him he was a good boy, and so handsome, just like his grandfather.  Todd takes Anette back to the demon realm, holding her tight against him as he travels across the bleak and forebidding landscape; such a sharp contrast to the rosy warmth of Anette’s home. Eventually, in a far corner of his home plane, Todd finds what he is looking for. It is a place where other demons do not tread; a large boulder cracked and broken, with a gap just barely large enough for Todd to fit through. This crack, of all things, gives him pause, but Anette’s soul makes a comment about needing to get home in time to feed Honey, and Todd forces himself to pass through it. He travels in darkness for a while, before he emerges into into a light so bright that it’s blinding. His eyes adjust slowly, and he finds himself face to face with two creatures, each of them at least twice his size one of them has six wings and the head of a lion, one of them is an amorphous creature within several rings. The lion-headed one snarls at Todd, and demands that he turn back, that he has no business here.  Todd looks down, holding Anette’s soul against his chest, he takes a deep breath, and speaks a single word, “Please.” The two larger beings are taken aback by this. They are too used to Todd’s kind being belligerent, they consult with each other, they argue. The amorphous one seems to want to be lenient, the lion-headed one insists on being stricter. While they’re arguing Todd sneaks by them and runs as fast as he can, deeper into the brightly lit expanse. The path on which he travels begins to slope upwards, and eventually becomes a staircase. It becomes evident that each step further up the stair is more and more difficult for Todd, that it’s physically paining him to climb these stairs, but he keeps going.

They dedicate a full episode to this climb; interspersing the climb with scenes they weren’t able to show in previous seasons, Anette and Honey coming to visit Todd in the Mayor’s office, Anette and Todd playing bingo together for the first time, Anette and Todd watching their stories together in the mid afternoon, Anette falling asleep in her chair and Todd gently carrying her to bed. Anette making Todd lemonade in the summer while he’s up on the roof fixing that leak and cleaning out the rain gutters. Eventually Todd reaches the top, and all but collapses, he falls to a knee and for the first time his grip on Anette’s soul slips, and she falls away from him. Landing on the ground. He reaches out for her, but someone gets there first. Another hand reaches out, and helps this elderly woman off the ground, helps her get to her feet. Anette gasps, it’s Charles. The pair of them throw their arms around each other. Anette tells Charles that she’s missed him so much, and she has so much to tell him. Charles nods. Todd watches a soft smile on his face. A delicate hand touches Todd’s shoulder, and pulls him easily to his feet. A figure; we never see exactly what it looks like, leans down, whispering in Todd’s ear that he’s done well, and that Anette will be well taken care of here. That she will spend an eternity with her loved ones. Todd looks back over to her, she’s surrounded by a sea of people. Todd nods, and smiles. The figure behind him tells him that while he has done good in bringing Anette here, this is not his place, and he must leave. Todd nods, he knew this would be the case. Todd gets about six steps down the stairway before he is stopped by someone grabbing his shoulder again. He turns around, and Anette is standing behind him. She gives him a big hug and leads him back up the stairs, he should stay, she says. Get to know the family. Todd tries to tell her that he can’t stay, but she won’t hear it. She leads him up into the crowd of people and begins introducing him to long dead relatives of hers, all of whom give him skeptical looks when she introduces him as her grandson. The mysterious figure appears next to Todd again and tells him once more he must leave, Todd opens his mouth to answer but Anette cuts him off. Nonsense, she tells the figure. IF she’s gonna stay here forever her grandson will be welcome to visit her. She and the figure stare at each other for a moment. The figure eventually sighs and looks away, the figure asks Todd if she’s always like this. Todd just shrugs and smiles, allowing Anette to lead him through a pair of pearly gates, she’s already talking about how much cake they’ll need to feed all of these relatives. 

P.S. Honey is a Good Dog and gets to go, too.

the last lines of the show:

demon: you’re not blind here – but you’re not surprised. when…?

anette: oh, toddy, don’t be silly, my biological grandson’s not twelve feet tall and doesn’t scorch the furniture when he sneezes. i’ve known for ages.

demon: then why?

anette: you wouldn’t have stayed if you weren’t lonely too.

demon: you… you don’t have to keep calling me your grandson.

anette: nonsense! adopted children are just as real. now quit sniffling, you silly boy, and let’s go bake a cake. honey, heel!

honey: W̝̽̂̿͂͝Ọ̮̹̲̪̋ͦͅO̸̘͔̬͊F̜̫͙̟͕͖̙̋ͫ͌͗

that addition is a+ :)

THE ONLY ENDING I WILL EVER ACCEPT FOR THIS

Every time this post shows up on my dash, it gets better (and more heart wrenching. Y’all! Stop cutting the onions okay?!).

If ever don’t reblogging this, I’m either dead, dying, or buried under cat.

October stuff

life’s been dumb but here i am living despite it all i guess. heated up one of my prepped salmon burgers, put it on a toasted english muffin with hummus, spinach, and tomato from our garden 🥗 and roasted some veggies on the side :) the tastiest 😋 •• for the salmon burgers -> • 2 cans wild caught salmon • 1/3-½ cup @foodforlifebaking ezekiel cereal (turned into breadcrumbs w food processor) • ¼ cup chopped onion • 1/3 - ½ cup chopped parsley • few pinches of salt n pepper • 3 heaping tbsp mustard of choice (i used spicy brown- dijon would work even nicer) • juice of 1 lime (or lemon) • 1 egg directions • preheat oven to 375F + line a baking sheet w parchment paper. • heat some coconut oil in a sauté pan and cook the onion until fragrant/translucent - set aside. • crack an egg in a large mixing bowl and beat. add all the ingredients except for the salmon to the bowl. • drain the cans of salmon and add them to a separate bowl- then use a fork to sort of separate until consistency is chunky but not total mush. • add the salmon to the bowl w the rest of the ingredients, mix thoroughly, and separate the mixture into patties. place on parchment paper, bake for 12 minute, flip! and then bake for an additional 5-10 min depending on the size of your burgers and oven. https://www.instagram.com/p/Boe5zZhndJQ/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=e4eyw9j3whzb

heckyum

Finally, the update we’ve all been waiting for…I found a job and started my new life in San Francisco! But before I talk about all the amazing things I’ve lined up for myself, I’d like to touch upon some things I’ve had a more difficult time talking about. You may have noticed that I’ve been MIA from posting on my blog, starting around fall of 2016, when I quit collegiate running in part due to a stress injury from training that wouldn’t go away. I had a pretty hard time adjusting, and went through several bouts of depression following. 2017 was by far the hardest year of my life —littered with friend breakups, poor self care habits, and even worse coping mechanisms. My self esteem was at an all time low and I didn’t know what I was going to do with my life all throughout my last 2 years of college. I was a biochem major with no interest in taking the pre-med route or pursuing scientific research/academia, I didn’t like my market analyst internship at the world’s largest biotech company, and I didn’t have any job options lined up like the rest of my friends did. I thought that obviously I must have been the problem. 

This past summer after graduating college was wonderful in so many ways, but was also riddled with the anxiety of still not having found a job weeks then months after I graduated. All this changed when I treated one interview as if it were my last (and it was!). I applied to the job I’m currently at on a whim, and when I got an email back for a phone interview, I knew it was either all or nothing. I prepared for 2 hours for a 30 minute phone screen —definitely extra, but it paid off when I got a follow up interview with my current manager, which then was extended an in person interview offer soon after! One thing led to another, and I received a full time offer as an account manager for the startup law firm I’m currently working at!  

I’m currently living with my best friend, boyfriend, and 2 other friends in San Francisco. I love my job because it’s exciting and fast paced, I’m engaged and interested in the things I’m doing, and I feel like I matter and have a sense of purpose. I still do struggle day to day with my own self image and am constantly working on improving myself. Self growth and acceptance comes in so many forms in so many stages of our lives. Social media can be deceiving because people usually only post the best moments of their lives and are too afraid or ashamed to share the worst (which is completely understandable and fine). In order for me to be honest with you all, I also have to be honest with myself. I’ve been MIA because I haven’t been wanting to share that many parts of my life because I didn’t think it was “worth” sharing because I wasn’t enjoying it myself. That’s a mindset that I’m actively working on improving because I’m on a journey to live the best and most memorable life that I can. So here I am, back and better than ever. I’m running everyday again and have the best relationship with my body that I’ve ever had. More details to follow on my future goals, work details, and personal life, but feel free to ask me anything in the meantime. As always, thanks for reading friends!

B E V E R A G E

Joy and Living in a Season of Waiting

“Have you started working?”

“How’s the job search?”

“Any good news yet?”

“What are you doing now?”

These, among many other similarly phrased questions, are asked to me on a daily basis. I don’t blame those who ask— we’ve been conditioned to assume that everyone has to have job offers lined up after graduation, or at least within the first few months. And let’s be honest— oftentimes we are nosy.

So in this moment of vulnerability, let me shed the reality of post grad life for me: It has been four months since graduation and two months since I took the NCLEX and received my license. I have applied to close to 100 positions in hospitals that range from a 10 minute drive, to a 45 minute drive.

I have received one interview.

In nursing school, we were told that the world was our oyster— that we would find a job with ease. And perhaps that was the case for some students (the pun! See what I did there?). But when I moved back to Boston, I had to face the truth. In an area that is so saturated with eager young new graduate nurses like myself, it feels impossible to get your foot in the door. Having connections helps you, but just barely.

As my friends begin their careers, buying scrubs, or business suits; meeting patients or meeting clients; going through training or orientation; I sit for hours on end applying to jobs that I pray will be “The One”. The worst, and the lowest time was in late July and August. I didn’t realize how much frustration I had pent up, so much so that I began to develop resentment towards my friends. And it’s a horrible feeling. I took so much of this job searching process personally, wondering why nobody wanted me. I am confident in my ability to learn, to grow, and to thrive as a new nurse. I am eager to learn, excited to serve. It felt as if nobody wanted to give me a chance, not because I was a new grad, but because of who I was.

The reality of it is this: that I am applying at a time where new graduate jobs are scarce because of where I live; that I did not work in any of these hospitals, and thus must apply as an external candidate; that I chose to take a chance on moving back to Boston, declining a job offer that was my dream job, but not in my dream city.

And that is the danger of centering our lives around our careers, our grades, our futures— we allow it to seep into our identity and our worth.

As a Christian, the concept of “idolization” is completely relevant. When we allow worldly pursuits to replace the true purpose we were called to, we tell God that who He is making us is not enough, and furthermore that He is not enough. And that is dangerous dangerous territory.

But even if you are not a Christian, idolization is still something that can happen in your life— losing sight of your life’s purpose because you believe a particular goal will fulfill you. Your life’s purpose isn’t your career— perhaps it is intertwined, but it is so much more than “doctor”, “nurse”, “programmer”, “entrepreneur”, “stay at home mother”, “stay at home father”, “president”, “waiter”, “firefighter”. You define your life’s purpose. So whether that is “to love Jesus and make him known”, or “to make healthcare accessible for the impoverished”, or “to bring visibility to ____ people”— you define it.

Coming to terms with my circumstances was just the first step. The more painful step was leaning into this season of waiting.

I don’t know many people who like waiting— whether it’s waiting for an Uber, or for our significant other to get ready for date night, we all hate waiting. In my waiting, I felt like my life was on pause. I had conditioned myself, all throughout undergrad, to shape my life around work. Think about how much our jobs (whether they be our careers or our academics) control our lives— it dictates when we wake up, how we eat, what extracurriculars we pursue, who we interact with. It threw me completely off balance. I had always seen waiting as passive. But as I continue to endure this time of uncertainty, I am understanding that our season of waiting does not have to be like that. Today is no less special because I’m still unemployed, and I am no less worthy because I’m not working.

I have been able to travel; to spend time with my grandparents; to connect and reconnect with friends, old and new; to find a church and worship with other believers; to volunteer and serve a community in need; to read the Bible for hours on end; to devour books and fall in love with reading again. And that is just the surface. Because most importantly, I have learned what it means to cling to God and to rejoice when I have plenty, and when I do not.

So I have learned to find joy in this season. Is it still frustrating? Absolutely. But I have found peace in surrending my expectations and my dreams to God. Jesus, his joy set before him, endured the cross. And so that is where I find my hope and purpose— not in my own glory, not in my own story, but in that of Jesus.

For my non believer friends, I hope you still find lessons in this— as I have found joy in this season of waiting, I know that you can in yours. Use this time to engage in your community; to pursue your interests; to love the people in your life; to live your healthiest, best life; to find new ways to fulfill your life purpose.

You do not need to wait in order to live your life. It is not on hold and it is not on pause— it is as vibrant, wonderful, painful, difficult, and dynamic as ever. It is as beautiful as it will ever be. So begin living it.

me situation,, im trying