It’s odd to come back to this after skipping two days in a row.
It’s like I forgot how to word vomit.
I’m over thinking every sentence and I’m not sure how I manage to do it every day.
I’m tired of it. That’s why I skipped it twice. It’s been almost the whole year writing 1,000 words of nothing just for practice in this idea that I will turn into a writer. Like a book writer.
There’s so much to tell and no desire to actually do it. And it’s supposedly Celebrity Throwback Monday. I have no one in mind. I don’t even want to think of anyone.
I had a long fun weekend.
Let’s start with Friday.
Shit went down on Friday.
It started weird as well…
Shit. It feels like forever ago and it was just a couple of days ago.
It started with meeting my friend Kimby and going to her friend’s hotel room near Zona Centro. They met at Burning Man. And they both have that Burning Man look.
I’ve known Kimby for a while. I even “lived” in her apartment. Ghost lived. I used her address but I was never really even there.
I never met her dude before. His name was Daniel and he was a bit out there.
Before going to grab brunch, he wanted to wear floral patterned yoga pants that were clearly for women. I said that would just get too much attention in Tijuana, so instead, he wore black tights and a very loose shirt. Might as well walk around with a sign that says “I just went to Burning Man and now I am lost.”
It didn’t start well.
He took forever to leave the hotel room. He said, “just give me five minutes.” It was 38 minutes. How do I know? I fucking counted it.
We were going to Teléfonica that was an eleven-minute walk, around half a mile. Halfway through that, he couldn’t keep walking. Said something about arthritis and medication and said he rather catch a cab.
We were two blocks away.
He ended up walking, but we ended up walking slow.
I was starving…
Kimby was sort of annoyed.
Finally. Teléfonica. New dude didn’t care about food and grabbed beers instead. Kimby bought the first round. Then he bought some more.
I got the tuna tostada because fuck yeah. And that new octopus with huitlacoche taco because is fucking tasty and super garlicky.
And beer.
Lupulosa for starters. Forgot what they got. I think a Pilsner and a different IPA.
We sat at the ridiculous big table. It was that dude’s first choice and why not. That big table actually works great for the tuna tostada because you want that fucker to be eye level.
Dude was being weird with Kimby. Like acting as if they were a married couple of some sort.
Weird thing is that the dude looked very similar to my roommate Chad. It doesn’t show well in pictures. But he had the same smile and some of the same mannerisms.
Emails emails emails. Hey. Word vomiting is easier than I remember. You just need coffee coffee coffee. And go!
So fake Chad and Kimby were being odd. Kimby apologized a bunch for the oddities, but I was fine. The dude at the end was fine. He was fun. He was just fucking weird. And I think completely in love with Kimby but really out there.
From Teléfonica we took an Uber to Norte.
As soon as we walked in, the dude high-fived me.
“YES! This is what I wanted,” he exclaimed. “My impression of Tijuana just changed a lot.”
Apparently, he had been in Tijuana for a few days now and he didn’t manage to find any of the cool places. He got robbed twice and ended up in seedy hotels.
I was happy to show him new places. It is not ideal to be walking around Tijuana looking like a Burning Man dude. People are just going to rob you.
And I told him about Wherehouse, and La Mija, and Mous Tache. Places that might have electronic music that he might enjoy.
We drank more beers in Norte.
And he went to go talk to the Norte guys. Being friendly and weird with everyone he encountered.
Suddenly, I turned around, and he was down in one knee sort of proposing or some shit. One of the Norte guys was recording because the dude asked him too.
I noped out of the super cringey scene.
Kimby was just like…. “dude… wtf!?”
And apologized again.
I had the appointment to view the house with my girlfriend. So I had to leave Kimby with fake Chad at Norte. And I apologized for leaving them there…
My story goes somewhere else now, but sidenote: We stayed in contact throughout and Kimby was fine. Ended up crossing the border with that dude where I suspect the cringe party continued.
I came back to my girlfriend smelling like beer and we went to see that fucking amazing house for $850 that I really want to rent out.
It was a great fucking house!
So much potential.
The first floor/entrance was a sizeable living room with a chimney, a bar, and a nice kitchen. It had two separate rooms that seemed like a trophy room. There was a baby piano that was heavily out of tune in the low and high keys, but understandably in tuned at the middle (still horrible, but hey, notes made sense).
Fuck yeah, I wanted this house.
To the upstairs.
Three rooms. Pretty big rooms as well. Two of them I would rent out for $200-250, the third had its own bathroom and would go for $300-350.
I could see it now.
It would be awesome.
Third floor.
Two more rooms.
Also pretty big.
AND WITH AMAZING VIEWS OF THE CITY.
Fuck yeah, I wanted this house.
Again, top rooms could easily be rented out for $250+ One of the rooms had it’s own bathroom so yeah.
Then to the downstairs. Pretty nice game room with a pool table included. A nice inside/outside space that was somewhat damaged by the previous tenant’s dog. And the patio. Great space with its own kitchenette and grill. Fuck yeah. It was amazing. Great views again.
I was ready to sign. I was ready to give first-month rent and deposit.
But my girlfriend is right.
Throughout the tour, we were joined by the realtor and the owner of the house.
The owner of the house lives next door. And she is the problem.
And there is no way we can rent out that house like I wanted to.
The owner basically wants someone to pay rent and not live there.
She said she had plans to fix it once rent money comes in. Then blatantly told us that she would kick us out and have her son move in. Apparently, her son still lives with her and she is sick of it.
She also said multiple times that she didn’t even want the house rented. And also told us she could hear every single word uttered in some rooms in her house.
So yeah…
Perfect fucking house.
Nightmare landlord.
I still want it.
It had some issues but tons of potential.
But girlfriend is right. That landlord is just going to be trouble the whole time. One of those old ladies that has nothing better to do but tell people how to live their lives. Renting next door to her would be insanely troublesome.
I still want it a bit… I still want to come to an agreement.
But it’s not worth it.
I need to keep looking.
That penthouse that I was in love from the beginning of the search starts looking like a possibility.
We will look at that next.
So second place we visit for us to move in. This time it’s perfect. But nightmare landlord ruins the whole dream.
FUCK!
Visited my sister-in-law since they live two blocks away. We talked about the whole ordeal and she gave us some snacks.
Then came back home. Because I needed to cross the border to San Diego.
FUCK!
THIS IS SO LONG ALREADY AND I AM BARELY 1/5 done.
There is not going to be a celebrity today.
I haven’t even posted a single pic.
I’m starting to think that skipping two days of a lot of interesting shit is a problem. Fuck.
Said bye to the girlfriend who was having a friend over because I wasn’t going to spend the night home.
Got in an Uber to the border.
As soon as I got off the Uber, I turn to my left and I see my ex-girlfriend and her little sister.
I haven’t seen her in… fuck… like a year and a half?
So I kinda just stood there frozen thinking “well, it had to happen at some point.”
I thought it was funny. And ignoring it and walking to the border was going to be stupid because there was no one there and we were literally entering the border at the same time.
So I said hi.
And hi to her little sister.
And walked through the border with them.
And talked about what they were doing.
They were going to a concert downtown. I was going downtown. She offered a ride, even though she was going to get picked up by her new friend. I said it might be awkward. She said don’t worry about it.
She was cool.
It was way less awkward than I would have imagined.
It was fine.
I mean… her friend that picked us up was a bit awkward. Because who wants to pick-up a chick that you like and then give a ride to her ex-boyfriend?
Dude asked about how we met.
We said it had been a couple of years.
He asked again.
I said Tinder.
He knew.
He fucking knew.
“I feel like an Uber,” he said. Yeah. Sorry man. We were talking in Spanish and you were trying to learn Spanish.
I tried to keep to myself. It was a semi-awkward ride. It could have been much much worse.
My roommate wanted me to ask them to drop me off by his place. But come on dude! I was already hitching a ride with my ex-girlfriend’s new “friend.”
And I was happy I was getting a ride. They were going to a place that was two blocks away from my IG boyfriend’s apartment building.
Before parking and saying my goodbyes, a sentence was engraved in my memory that I will never be able to forget. Well, not for a while.
“Te gusta Dave Matthews Band?”
He said to my ex-girlfriend.
I don’t know why that made me so happy. But it did.
It was a reminder why things would have never worked out.
Blandness.
Spicy woman.
Bland taste.
Her little sister didn’t say a single word.
She knew.
“Bye! Have fun at the concert!
Sorry for being a weird dude.”
She didn’t know what I meant by that. I’m not sure what I did either. Maybe because in the back of my mind I knew I was going to write about it.
And that makes me a weird dude.
Like, “hey, sorry that you are going to be a part of my blog now.”
I gave her new friend my business card (which has this web page). I wonder if curiosity beat him to it and he ended up checking out this word vomit. And if he is checking it now:
Hey dude! Hope I didn’t ruin your night. That girl is a great girl. Hope it works out for you two. You just have to be patient and somewhat dull and you’ll be fine!
No adventure time.
She just wanted babies.
Hah.
Sigh.
This is still barely just beginning and I have so much more to tell. Skipping was a bad idea.
And I have some work to do…
I walked the wrong direction to Joey’s apartment (calling him by his name instead of IG boyfriend, which is too ridiculous). Then finally figured out where I was going. The Kebab House is my landmark. Fuck. I went by it and then walked the opposite direction.
Joey’s place is really nice. He brought me a coffee mug from his apartment to the lobby. He gets fucking free coffee in his place.
I would abuse the fuck out of that machine if I lived there.
I spiked the coffee with some whisky because yes.
Then we Ubered to North Park Beer Co.
He wanted to go to a punk show. Sloppy Seconds (band). Sounded like Screeching Weasel with the Ramones. Though I was interested, I wasn’t feeling it. I don’t like paying for a band that I’m not sure I’ll enjoy. He offered to pay, but still. I hate to waste money and then hate the music.
It was punk. If you don’t know it… you get bored. At least I do.
I can’t go to music shows where all I can think of is “I can play that.”
And I know it’s old school punk. But still….
At North Park Beer Co, I met with the manager and told him I would be going around the bar taking pictures.
Super dark inside the bar, so I had to use my flash. They were looking for something similar I did for the Gaslamp cover. This:
It didn’t get that crowded when I was there.
Fuck. It did by the end of it. But by then, I had already climbed on top of the ladder and flash at so many customers…
I got similar shots.
The manager gave us a couple of free beers. He was a cool guy. We chatted for a bit. And Joey chatted him up for a bit. And drank some beers while I annoyed people with my flash. Climbed on a ladder behind the bar. Took a couple of hundred pictures.
Roommate never came to the brewery. He was two blocks away in a place called Tamarindo with a group of his friends.
Joey wanted to go to the punk show. I wanted to hang out with the roommate since it’s been ages.
We split in different ways and I went to Tamarindo, he went to Soda Bar.
$8.50 for an IPA.
Oh well.
And you tip. So there went my last $10.
The roommate was hanging out with his girlfriend and a group of people. An official drunken party. So we drank. And talked. And drank more.
Ubered to a gay bar nearby for the piano man. One of the guys in the Uber was being loud as fuck. Super fucking loud. Poor Uber driver.
Got to the bar before 1 am but they were already in last call.
A gay couple was making out next to me.
Goddamn, they were both so pretty. Pretty fucking men. That’s what gay bars are. A pile of really pretty men that take care of themselves. And people wonder why I wish I was gay.
Alas, I am not. The scene still disgusted me a bit. Sorry gay guys. Gayness makes me gag. Sort of like straight sex makes you gag. Get it? Don’t get offended. Don’t be a fag.
The roommate bought some flavored vodka. I think it was blueberry.
Booberry vodka.
It didn’t taste good. It didn’t taste bad.
Gay bar cocktail. Meant to fuck you up and not feel the pain.
Pounded that since they were kicking us out.
Uber to the next bar.
I don’t even remember where it was. But it was a dive bar where the roommate (or someone) bought me a giant PBR. Photographic evidence of that bar shows that we were all really fucked up.
Horrible picture. I’m sorry guys. I am not even sure who grabbed my camera to take this picture…
Sorry guys…
From there… Uber to a dude’s place (the guy with the black hat). From there, Uber back to my roommate’s place.
I was insanely tired since before all of this. So I barely even remember the ride to his place or entering his place or passing out on his tiny couch.
But I passed out comfortably (somewhat) on his tiny couch.
Woke up to his girlfriend, Brook, ruffling through stuff in the kitchen/bathroom/living room. She was going somewhere early.
Went back to bed.
Woke up a bit later with a roommate making some coffee.
It was a good night.
His friends from the previous night wanted to grab brunch.
Jason.
Jason.
I asked who is Jason?
He said, “JOSPER! Probably the loudest guy you met last night.”
And holy fuck was this dude loud.
I knew who he was immediately after he said, loud dude. I said that he looked like a cartoon character.
Like Chris Farley and Jack Black had a son with a touch of Matthew McCounaghey (not because of attractive, but because of Dazed and Confused).
Picked him up and the two other guys in the party. We went to the 19th hole of Balboa Park’s golf course. AKA Toby’s.
Josper was being loud as fuck since we got in the car.
When we parked by the restaurant, a lady sped next to the parking spot and almost crashed the roommate’s car when I was opening the door. And she looked at us like it was our fault.
That same lady rushed in front of us and grabbed a table that was big enough for six people even though it was just her and some dude. And we were in fact…. six people.
So fuck that lady.
Josper was being loud as fuck.
But funny.
But super fucking loud.
I had my head buried in my hands for the most part. He was literally screaming all his stories and slamming his fists on the glass table. I was afraid he was going to break it.
The bitch lady that drove and almost crashed into the door sat by us. I could see her forehead vein throbbing at Josper’s loud stories.
Josper then told a story about he was jamming with some friends and started doing a very loud air guitar solo. And it was atonal, so his mimicking was just distorted noises. He then yelled a story about one of his girlfriends and chocolate condoms… that’s when the lady could not take it anymore and just yelled.
“CAN YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP!”
Then went along the lines like, “no one wants to hear your stupid shit, you are bothering everyone in the restaurant! Oh yeah your friend did what? No one cares. You are fourteen and you need it to turn it down to an eight.”
Fuck me for not recording it.
I was about too.
I had my cell phone in my hand.
It was fucking hilarious!
Josper replied something along the lines of “I’m sorry I’m having a good time with my friends. This is who I am. I’m loud. I’m sorry you have a shitty life and you can’t enjoy your mimosas. I’m having fun and I’m loud.”
After that, the whole restaurant was quiet for a couple of minutes. Or if talking, they weren’t louder than a whisper.
Except for Josper. Who thinks whispering is normal talking.
And after a while, it all went back to normal and Josper was back to screaming.
At least the waitress liked us. And she really liked Josper who was flirtatious with her.
The lady ordered her brunch to go and left. The waitress said something along the lines of “I got rid of the bitch for you guys.”
Our breakfast TOOK forever to fucking arrive.
I ordered the chicken fried steak.
CHICKEN FRIED STEAK!
It’s fun to say.
It came with two eggs, sunny side up. They were fucking raw. Potatoes were okay. And sourdough toast, basic but tasty. Chicken fried steak was good but not as good as I was expecting it to be. Overall, ok satisfied. There was endless coffee and that interaction was priceless.
Josper got the special steak and eggs. It looked better than my choice. He ordered it rare. It also came raw.
He sent it back for some more cooking.
Dustin got grits and biscuits, which was another of my choices.
The roommate got a sandwich that was forgettable and I didn’t take pictures. Mark got a hamburger that also looked very forgettable.
This was the view.
Well… the view of the lady. She sat on the six-person table with that view. We were on a table behind this.
Before leaving.
Poop.
And apparently, this place had the best poop station in San Diego.
I didn’t use that. It was the handicap bathroom and I would have felt horrible if a guy in a wheelchair was waiting while I was in there.
What am I supposed to do? Fake a limp?
So I actually used the regular bathroom. Poop.
It was the raw eggs. Maybe.
After that, I was dropped off on the trolley for the ride home. Everyone else went there different ways. The movie of my life was over.
The woman sitting across from me on the trolley on my way back had SD and the BOLTS tattooed on her forearms. Poor thing.
Crossed the border like always. Came back home. Edited the pictures and hung out with my girlfriend and telling her basically everything I just typed out. She told me about her night with her friend Sara of drinking sangria and watching videos.
We decided to go out because it was Saturday night. She wanted Teléfonica for the octopus with huitlacoche tacos, but we both weren’t very hungry as of yet.
So we went to Norte because it was the second anniversary and they had a new beer coming out. A double IPA.
AND SURPRISE!
The tacos that we wanted were there. Giving free tacos.
Perfect.
So we had a couple of beers and a couple of tacos. The new Double IPA is very caramelly sweet. Reminds me of the sweetness of Lupulosa but heavier in both alcohol and caramel. Brewer told me at first it tasted even more alcoholic. That they probably needed two or three more weeks for that beer to come out right. Let’s see if they do another iteration of it. It was okay. But it could be way better. Especially for Norte quality.
Another beer. Hoppy Wheat and Penthouse IPA. Those are always good.
Her friend that spend the night in our place, was having a pre-birthday party at her apartment in Otay.
So we Ubered the long way.
AND HOLY FUCK!
I partied in the same apartment complex back in 2010 or 2011. When I still lived in Los Angeles.
There was a robbery that night in 2010-2011. Someone stole two laptop computers. They didn’t take anything from me, though I passed out on the floor with my shoes off with my wallet inside them with over $200 or $300 dollars and a Droid 2 (which back then was new). I used my shoes as pillows that night, probably the reason they didn’t take my wallet. And probably because they had no idea I had that much money in there…
The girls that lived with Carlitos back then cried a lot that morning. One because the laptop was a Christmas present. The other because she had naked pictures on her laptop.
It was a sad morning after party…
But I had my money.
Anyway.
That’s the same place her friend Sara lives. Except her apartment was way nicer than the one I slept on the floor at. Not as nice as the one I live in now. And far.
It made me appreciate this apartment much more.
And as the house hunting continues and it doesn’t look that great… I look at this place for its value. It’s a fucking great place…
It just also needs some fixing…
The party was fun. We hung out with new friends. Cool guys. Everyone else was another couple. Beers. Beers. Beers. Playing videos on YouTube in an orderly fashion.
Both I and Karla felt really dumb at some point in the party.
I, for interrupting a video that the party actually wanted.
Her, for bitching loudly about a song that I played but that everyone was enjoying.
She… got a bit drunk and the hiccups. And she can get feisty. But at least it didn’t escalate. And the party was just plain fun.
It ended around 1:45 am.
We Ubered back home after everyone left.
Sunday was nothing.
And good.
Because this blog is already over 4,000 words and I’m barely touching on Sunday.
It was NFL all day.
Quiet day.
Boring day.
I suck at NFL fantasy still. And I apologize to my friend Sánchez because he wanted me to know that he, indeed, takes the fantasy league seriously. So sorry Sánchez for assuming you didn’t give a fuck.
And… he also did terrible this week.
From six players, three actually do trades and try to play, the other three somewhat play. Kirby still plays some. He beat me by a lot. I fucking suck at NFL fantasy.
The girlfriend texted me that she enjoyed yesterday though we did absolutely nothing and the TV mostly had NFL. We were just lazy. Didn’t even leave the house.
The NFL games were great though! I don’t care if it’s capitalism piled with capitalism and more capitalism and the current political drama. This shit is just thoroughly fucking entertaining.
Then she passed out at around 5 pm and woke up around 8 pm. I tried napping too, but couldn’t. I started getting worried about shit again.
About this week.
I don’t have much going on this week.
I have to work on the article that got accepted but the editor wanted me to expand on it. I already took pictures for the next few articles.
Oh. I was supposed to check out if I have pictures of Burt Reynolds.
I should do that now.
And get to work.
Coffee.
Breakfast.
Workout.
Shower.
I haven’t done any working out lately. I took a break from the blog. I took a break from doing push-ups and shit.
No celebrity Monday.
Maybe tomorrow.
Word vomit out.
I won’t skip two days in a row no more. This is fucking long!!!!
Matingas 