It’s time to go to San Diego!
Well soon…
I need to word vomit and then I’ll be on my way.
I have to be all the way to Camp Pendleton at 1300 hours.
1300 hours and not 1 pm because I’m meeting with military folk to see some military housing. Hopefully, spot a chopper. Hopefully, get some interesting shots. And definitely grabbing two headshots from two different guys that will be showing me around.
My streak of weird dreams continue.
I woke up at 5:30 am feeling oddly wide awake. But it was way too early. So I forced myself back to bed. I woke up groggy at 9:30 am and I’m still pretty groggy.
This is what I remember about my dream.
I was up north. In a shitty town. I want to say I was in Surrey, British Columbia. I was going to either Seattle or Vancouver with some friends, though we didn’t have a destination.
We stayed in a shitty hotel. I’m not sure what friend I was with, sometimes I feel like it was my friend Carlos, sometimes I think it was my friend Woody. The point is, this hotel was fucking weird. We got a room, but the room had more rooms inside. And people were coming and going. And I had dreams inside my dreams. Because I remember I went to bed and dreamt something weird, just to wake up in the hotel and find out someone was staring at me.
For some reason. Bar Refaeli and Leonardo DiCaprio were sleeping in the same bed. Luckily, Bar was on my side and Leo was on the complete opposite side. Yep. I touched Bar in my dream. I think Leo got mad.
Inception dream of dreams.
I washed my feet at the lobby. I don’t know why I remember this. But I did.
And we were in a rush to get somewhere, but we had no idea where we were going.
HAH!
Karla (my girlfriend) just sent me a love email. She’s so crazy.
I feel like what she wrote is true. I also feel like we forced to be together when we don’t really have to (like I told her before). I think yesterday was great because she went out with her friends and did her things, sang karaoke and what not. And I did my thing and then we met up at night and have a great time.
Today, I won’t be home past 7 pm. So it would be something similar.
Again, I think I just hate her new schedule. She leaves extremely early and gets home really early when I’m still in a different mood.
Ok.
I really need to leave.
Yep. Just checked the map. I need to leave in 12 minutes so I can make it to downtown to grab my brother’s car, to stop by the office, and to head all the way to Camp Pendleton.
No time to word vomit.
No time to coffee coffee coffee.
Or work out.
Just shower. And go.
Also, sent an article this morning. That should get published later today.
I need to do more like that. Two articles a week. Two photo shoots if possible. And I’m okay. Not great. But okay.
Shit. It’s barely okay.
I need more gigs.
But no time for that.
Oh yeah. And I’ll grab the magazine. The inside spread looks like it was great! The cover as well. Resume builder!!!!
Less than 1,000 words.
Sorry word vomit! I betray you! But duty calls.
Here’s a random picture of Jessica Alba.
That one got published.
Yesterday, I published a whopping more than 350 pictures of celebrities as a portfolio. You can find it under the Photographer tab, or here. Eventually, more will be added.
This is post 352 on the word vomit. That’s a lot of posts.
I can’t believe some people still didn’t know I was a paparazzo. It’s funny. I guess I don’t go around yelling that I used to be one. In fact, for the first few years after I quit, I didn’t tell anyone or rarely mention it and hated anything related to it. I didn’t even take pictures because I was so burnt out.
But here I am. Almost 6 years later and I have cute memories of it. I miss it sometimes. More because it was fun to take pictures than to actually deal with celebrities. Also, the chase was fun sometimes.
Alba was nice for the most part. I already posted about that, so you’ll have to do some searching through my blog to find it. Hint. Google my name and then Jessica Alba.
There. 3/4 of 1,000 word-vomit. Shower. Extremely shitty coffee (it’s basically hot water). No workout. Get ready. And gone!
Matingas 