Bisho!
He gets between my legs when walking into the kitchen, tripping me.
Then he complains like “bro, why you tripping?”
BECAUSE YOU ARE GOING IN BETWEEN MY LEGS.
Fucking cats.
I slept.
I slept so fucking much.
I was watching the Japanese movie Your Name (in Spanish, because there’s no English translation or subtitles, only Spanish, so if I’m reading Spanish, might as well put it in Spanish).
Halfway through it, I fell asleep. It had to be around 6 pm or something.
I woke up at 10:30 pm thinking “I’m FUCKED” I took a long nap and now I’m not going to be able to sleep all night.
It’s Friday night, I could go out. I could still not be miserable at home.
I was wrong.
I just went back to bed.
And woke up after 9:00 am.
I needed sleep.
So much sleep.
This bed is so damn comfy.
Yesterday was good.
I was at the office exactly at 10 am. Exactly when I said I would be there.
Said hi to everyone in the office.
Almost everyone declined the Tijuana Holiday Adventure.
Soooo….
That got canceled.
One of the art editors was going to dress like Santa for a photo shoot. Bossman said he should up to witness this. I thought he was kidding.
He was there.
We drove to Star Bar where around a dozen people were there already drinking. Apparently, more of them were there at 6:30 am.
Not even 11:00 am and bossman bought me a beer. I didn’t have breakfast. I wanted breakfast and coffee.
But fuck it.
Breakfast beer.
And photoshoot shoot shoot shoot.
I ended up shooting 311 pictures.
Brought that down to 98.
1/3.
It should be less.
Like a 1/4 of it.
They will have to wait until the story runs to share them.
The pictures are inspired by the story my old roommate wrote, Mr. Chad Deal. I read it. It’s hilarious. So it will be a great issue.
And I wanted to jump in.
So after editing the pictures…
I started my text.
200 words into my draft and I got an email from the bossman. He just finished the edit for the issue with the other writer’s texts. And informed me that there is no more space for me to jump in.
Awww.
Fuck.
I got excited. I like writing these stories.
So I should work on other things instead. The Haitian story that has been taking me forever.
But I’m inspired to finish the next two stories quick.
Too bad it’s Saturday and I like to be lazy.
But nah.
I’ll write a story today for sure. Because tomorrow NFL and I’ll definitely not want to write by then.
And the Holiday Tijuana Adventure got canceled anyway.
So I have time.
Here’s the rough draft I was working on for Christmas stories.
Nerdy Christmas
Earliest Christmas I Remember
I don’t remember much except vague memories of Christmas when I was four-years-old. It was 1990, grandma’s house in Houston, Texas. It snowed that year, but I don’t remember seeing it, just my brother’s telling me about it. Mickey Mouse was my favorite VHS tape and I played some really weird McDonald’s Kids video game with my cousin.
I didn’t speak English very well, so I had to run back and forth from my cousin to my mom who I asked to translate certain words. “¿Como se dice helado?” or something like that, and I would run back to my cousin and say it in English. Oh yeah. Also, my grandmother had vanilla Blue Bunny ice cream in the freezer guarantee. And I remember loving that I could drink water straight from the tap.
The next clear memory I have must be from 1993 because I remember the presents Santa brought. It was either ‘93 or ‘94, because I remember my presents were USA 94 World Cup red and white t-shirt and a yellow soccer ball that I thought was very heavy. I also got the “Where’s Waldo” book (2nd blue edition), except in its Spanish version, “¿Donde esta Wally?”
That happened at my home in Querétaro, Mexico, nearby the chimney where the stockings hung. Despite being in Mexico, my American mother made Christmas traditions as cheesy as in the movies.
The other is not Santa, but Reyes Magos, a story I already told here [ LINK ]
Mortal Kombat II in Guadalajara con Abuela Luz.
I was going to add sadder things to some of the Christmases. And some other funnier things. And then I got the email from bossman to not work on it…
MK2 I remember I got for X-Mas in Guadalajara… but that would have been ’93. Not sure then what the first Christmas I was describing was. Must have been a year older.
The next Christmas after that one was the one I spent in Mazamitla. I wanted F-Zero X for the N64 and I knew I was going to get it. So I took my N64 to the cabins in the middle of fucking nowhere.
Unluckily for me, there was no television. I was devastated. What was I the fuck to do?!
Well.. Christmas came, and indeed, I got the F-Zero X cartridge that I wanted. I had the N64 but not TV. Well… one of my cousin’s boyfriend’s (I think that was who), had a camcorder with a tiny screen. We figured out a way to plug in the N64 to the camera. And that’s where I fucking played it. On a tiny video camera screen.
I was happy.
^^^^
Something like that was going to be the article.
But obviously, with way better writing. And some research.
The photo shoot went great. Can’t wait to see which they picked for cover. And maybe if they used a couple more on the inside.
I can’t post that… but I can post a picture of my shitty lovely Jack in the Box breakfast.
Yep. After the shoot, back to the office, back to the trolley, back to Tijuana.
But first. A super shitty American breakfast that is my guilty pleasure. And that sandwich in Jack is probably my favorite. It’s so wonderfully shitty, but I love it.
It’s EXTREME SAUSAGE!
#27.
Back to Tijuana. Edit pictures. I had a beer in my fridge…. so why not? It was early. I was tired because I woke up at 2:20 am. I already had one beer and if I only drink one beer I get a headache or I pass out. So I kinda have to keep on drinking…
And that’s why I don’t have breakfast beers.
Coffee right now.
Then breakfast.
Workout.
And work.
Back to the routine.
I have markers now. I can set goals. I can do this shit.
And I’m thinking about asking for a job job again to the bossman for next year. Freelance life is a tough life. But getting organized and working more and more is also I could do to survive. I mean, shit. I could be making way more money as a freelance.
That’s why I feel like as soon as I stop word vomiting, I could produce more. This takes me a while. Sure it’s dumb. But it takes me a while.
Yet again…
If I had to work in the office, I could easily write a chapter or half a one on my way to work on the trolley. And I could finish a book before May.
So office job would be also ideal.
Work.
Freelance.
Coffee.
Workout.
Work.
That’s my day. Maybe go out tonight. It’s Saturday. But no plans. Don’t care.
Matingas 