A conversations over coffee and musings about the lives of others (or don’t trade in your soul because you can’t get it back.)


Coffee with Vampires and Ghosts

A conversations over coffee and musings about the lives of others.

This morning I met for coffee with my brother’s friend James.

James is one of those people I find extremely obnoxious, but we have a connections through my brother Andy and through some shared experiences. We all have friends like James.

When he isn’t just hanging out with old friends, James is a psychiatrist to some pretty well known individuals. He is good at giving people ways to find normalcy in their lives. That is their normal. Everyone has his or her own normal, they just have to find it. The same goes with inner peace and contentment. James gives his patients the tools and teaches them how to use those tools to keep healthy.

As I drove to his house, through one of the more exclusive neighborhoods in the city (East Sacramento), I passed a home I’d once been in, years ago. The house belonged to a wealthy man. I’m talking insanely wealthy. A friend of mine was his executive assistant.

I was there for a party. He was lovely and friendly. I’d met him before and he remembered me. My friend adored him. He was a good man.

Unfortunately his ex-wife, his narcissistic daughter, and his psychiatrist only saw dollar signs. They poisoned him with their demands and their bad advise. It was never about him. People who cared couldn’t get through to him. The women took and took from him, stabbing out pieces of his soul until one day he killed himself.

“There is a special place in Hell for them. No, really, Jewels, the reservations have been made,” James told me as he poured me a second cup of coffee in his well-appointed kitchen.

I believed James, because like me, he is a Vampire. He lives with one foot in death’s door at times. He knows what it is like to grab up your own soul and hold it tight. For unlike Regular Humans, Vampires can’t give away or trade our souls, but sometimes there are those who try to come up from the depths of Hell and steal them away.

“And to think,” I said, “people call us ghouls.”

“They’re such hypocrites,” said James.

We had more coffee and talked about our friends, our work and books we’d read over the summer. I looked around the beautiful kitchen. Too bad not much cooking happened in it. Most Vampires don’t cook much. We do, but not much. I don’t need to explain why.

James made a lame joke about cooking and I laughed. Then he smiled with a sexy bit of fang and said, “Let’s go upstairs and fuck.”

I smiled back. “You know I’m married.” Yes, that is the reason I don’t see much of James.

“Right, you’re married to the most handsome Vampire in the world, but come down to the dark side with me this morning. Nobody will ever know. Mix it up a little.”

“Oh James,” I said, “even if I was single I’d have to say no. It isn’t going to happen. But thank you for the coffee. It was delightful.”

“At least I can try,” he said taking my hand and kissing it.

Now I’m home, taking a break from my work, sharing my morning. I’m also wondering if anyone is mourning still for the lovely man who was driven to his death by demons who took the form of friends and family.

I look at my old dog sleeping on the cool tile by my feet. I hear a hawk outside. It is a calm space where demons are not allowed. I will not let them in.

Close the door if they knock, even if they look like someone you know.

Beware those who have already traded in their souls at the expense of others.

OK everyone, have a nice day.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

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I’m on the road with my handsome husband and beautiful daughter this week touring one of the colleges by the ocean in Southern California. Yes, this is the parenting part. So anyway, this is a repost from August 2015. Thanks for dropping by. I’ll tell you all about it soon.

A short essay on bullies

Think of all the time and energy bullies spend being obsessed with their victims. Think of all of the energy of that hate that could be channeled into something positive. Anything really, other than being obsessed with someone they deemed weaker, weirder, stupider, fatter, smaller, or just different in some way. Usually there isn’t a reason why a child is bullied. It is usually just a random act that builds into sort of a self-serving cult.

If you’ve been bullied just think of what an idiot the kids was who bullied you was. No doubt he or she still is. I doubt if they’ll even remember what they did. If they do they won’t feel bad about it. They’ll still blame you for their failures especially if you’re a success. Even if you aren’t. Their own self loathing is masked with self-indulgent feelings of superiority and then helplessness.

They’re nothing but defective worms. They are to be pitied. Then again, don’t waste your pity on them. Don’t carry the burdens of their actions with you. It hurt. It was wrong. It was wrong for adults to let it happen. But it is time for you to move on. You aren’t the asshole. The bullies don’t matter. They were the ones who spent the time to be obsessed by you, like evil perverse demonic fans. It was their loss, not yours.

And most of them, the bullies, have assholes for parents. Think about it.

You aren’t the asshole. Believe me on this one.


~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman


fart joke

When Good Things Happen to Bad People

So what do you tell your almost grown children about this?

I’m not talking about psychotic dictators or serial killers. I’m thinking about people we see in our daily lives.

I asked my brother Max about that. He isn’t the type to say karma is a bitch or stuff like that.

My dear eldest brother (the eldest of four elder brothers of mine) stopped by as I was outside breaking up a cat fight on my lower deck. I threw an oyster shell at them, which bounced off of the deck rail, hit a bird feeder, hit a lounge chair, then landed between my growling cats. The damn squirrels started going crazy in the oak trees so I threw the rest of the oyster shells at them. I know you’re asking why I had oyster shells on my top deck to throw. They were in a pot, left over from a night of grilling a few months ago. One cannot live on blood alone.

Max came in the front door to discover me doing what I was doing and started to laugh. Max rarely laughs being the serious alpha male he is. But enough of that. I fixed more coffee in my red French Press and I asked him, “How do you explain why good things happen to bad people?”

Max got a serious look on his face and then brushed back his hair with his thumb and middle finger, the exact same way I do all the time.

He’d let his dark hair grow out, like so many guys these days. It is down to his shoulders – long enough to pull back. I’d forgotten how straight and shiny it is, like hair out of a shampoo advertisement.

“What happened Juliette?”

“Nothing really,” I answered. “I know it sounds petty of me but yesterday I learned that a horrible person, a bully, had become the principal of my children’s former school where she terrorized parents and teachers alike. Another parent told me about it. She pulled her kids out of the school. I was shocked. My kids were shocked.”

“Those are not your concerns,” said Max.

“Well, yes they are, because unlike you, I spend most of my time in the real world. I have to deal with those people.”

He raised his eyebrow in that Mr. Spock sort of way.

“Max, I was just trying to explain this to the kids. That and more extreme cases of good things happening to bad people. Yes, I know they are good at manipulating others, twisting and turning stories, sucking up to the right people, and doing things that would make most of us uncomfortable. I know all that. And they have no remorse. They feel as if they are entitled in some cases.”

“You just answered your own question. I don’t know. I deal with bad people and bad Vampires all the time. I deal with horrible things I can’t even explain. Juliette, I deal with Demons.”

“That is why I asked you the question.”

“I know, but I don’t have an answer. I don’t know why good things happen to them and bad things happen to those who are so good. Religious people explain it as God’s will, but that doesn’t make any sense either. Why would God want a child to get cancer, or any other horrible tragedy? Does God want people to be driven from the homes by wildfire or war? Why would a good person die young of a long painful illness and a bad person live a long life and die quietly in his sleep? Good things happen to good people too. You just don’t notice it as much.”

“The kids are talking about politics a lot too. Of course it is just nuts. How do you explain THAT?”

“You don’t but they’ll learn from it, just as we have little sister. Garrett will vote in his first election.”

“Why aren’t we in charge?”

“Because we’re Vampires. We have our own concerns to deal with.”

I knew all of this. I was just venting. But how do you explain things. Maybe you can’t. It is OK to tell your kids, “I don’t know.”

Max put his arm around my shoulder, “It is my job to make sure that bad things happen to bad things that live in the shadows. Unfortunately I usually can’t do anything about bad people who live in the normal world. We just have to learn how to deal with them.”

I don’t have any answers except that, be it a Vampire or a Regular Human, we must all deal with events that seem unfair. We hope for the best and do our best. We speak the truth. We try to be good examples to all. That is all we can do.

The world is full of evil. It is full of bad people. But, the world is full of good people. I believe there are far more good people than bad people. Like Max said, we just don’t notice them as much.

As a parent you can’t answer all questions. You can just think back to your own experiences and teach through that. You can teach your children to speak the truth, stand up for themselves and others, and to not get over emotional about events they can’t control.

I mentioned to Max about how bad things always seemed to happen to our brother Andy.

Max just shook his head and said, “Andy is an idiot.”

I guess some questions are easier answered than others.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman