I skipped Sunday. I was feeling sick. Way too hungover. My Saturday was not what I expected and I kind of went overboard. TJ adventure solo to my limits.
It was a bad idea.
All of Sunday I laid on the couch nursing my headache and watching NFL.
And hey. My fantasy team didn’t do bad. Too bad I didn’t make it to the playoffs and points don’t matter anymore. I still like watching the game and tracking my fantasy points.
I finally got published today.
Now I have this whole week before Christmas hits to finish the story I’ve been talking about for so long.
I’ve been going around telling friends about my ideas. I’m getting close to materializing it. But I need some quotes to tie it all together.
Define Tijuana.
That’s my challenge.
Or explain Tijuana to someone that has never even heard the name. Someone that has no notion of what the city is or has been before. No notion of border living.
Explain Tijuana.
Define it if you can.
What’s your experience? Everyone experiences this city different…
Go ahead.
Define Tijuana.
Now. Let me tell you about Saturday.
Then, celebrity throwback Monday.
The very last one.
And I have no one in mind. It should be a good one. But again, so many celebrities, so many pictures.
Back!
So… My rebound was just here. She was here on Saturday as well.
She got demoted.
Or maybe promoted?
Depends on how you see it. But I’m indifferent. She’s awesome and I like to hang out with her. But I want nothing else but friendship.
So she got demoted. Or promoted. She’s a friend. She’s cool. And she just bought me a few drinks.
2:41 pm and I already drank a mezcalita and four beers.
And I’m drinking more.
So let’s rewind to Saturday.
And work our way forward. To what this week will have to offer. The last week of blogging. Before the year ends and I take 2018 in a whole different approach.
I just got an email with a photo gig. One of those awkward ones. I should resolve it before the weekend.
Saturday.
Saturday I had no plans. And I said so. And I think a friend read at least the title, because right after posting, I got a message from him, “I’m in New Body drinking. Come hang out.”
I told him I was cooking breakfast and I didn’t feel like drinking, but if he was buying. Fuck it.
I made myself eggs and bacon. I’ve been doing this a lot. Simple bacon not too crispy. Simple fried eggs. BAM! Breakfast. Nice and cheap.
Though bacon is somewhat expensive and shitty. I would like to get good bacon or sausages. But TJ. Only garbage ingredients in garbage supermarkets.
Then I went out the door. Not even 11 a.m. and going to strip club/massage parlor (aka, brothel) to have drinks with a friend.
People that know me or read this, can assume who it is. But this time, I’m not going to say names.
I got there… He is fucking wasted. Wasted beyond I ever get. I never really drink that bad. My ex saw me like that a couple of times, and on really special occasions (and not as bad!). This time he was just drinking because he felt like drinking and he has money.
He ordered a beer for me. He gets a brandy drink for himself (Torres X campechano), and orders a tiny beer for the hooker that was sitting next to him.
I never caught her name, but she was from Monterrey. I was like… “oh great, exactly where my ex is from…”
The bartender comes over and says “you told me to close you off once you hit $100 dollars. Your check is $104 right now.”
FUCK MAN!
He had already spent what I spend in a week just drinking by himself and the sad looking hooker.
All of this, not even noon.
And yes.
I did it just because I’m writing about Tijuana and I’ve never been in this place this early. So I poked my head in just to see what this was all about. Plus, he was buying beers.
We stayed there for a good hour as he spent another $50 buying drinks for me, himself, and the girl. He barely even paid attention to the girl. Every once in a while he would turn and make comments to her about the story he was telling me or if I had a witty reply.
You could tell that the chick gave 0 fucks. She was just doing her job.
And this dude wasn’t going to go have sex with her. He was just paying to not drink by himself… and he had been drinking for a while.
After a good hour of being at New Body, super fucking awkward, just four random lonely girls waiting for customers, my super drunk friend, and me. Being nosy as fuck. Asking the bartender his funniest stories. Trying to get a sense of what happens in this place…
We drank and chatted and drank and chatted.
And it was time to leave.
He wanted to continue drinking. I suggest Nelson. It was not even 1 pm though it was Saturday.
On our way to Nelson, he bought a $27 USD Cuban cigar. He asked for a discount jokingly. The dude actually listened to him and gave him a $4 discount to $23. Friend doesn’t give a shit and gives him $30 and lights up his cigar.
And we walk towards Nelson.
On his way, he is saying hi to everyone. As if he knew everyone. But it’s just 1 pm and he is just a random drunk Gringo.
The pesos in his front pocket almost falling out. He had over 7,000 pesos and he told me he was planning to spend it all.
There were barely any people in Nelson, but my friend is feeling generous that says he will buy a round of drinks for everyone.
Yep.
Spending way more than I do in one week in a matter of hours.
I tell him this.
He says he is not bragging. Or maybe humble bragging. But starts talking about how money comes and goes and who cares. Life is just what it is.
It’s somewhat depressing but at the same time real. Financial problems sometimes stress us out more than what we need to.
Money comes.
Money goes.
I, for sure, don’t spend it on hookers and beer like that. But money does come and just like that it goes.
I would have much more money if I didn’t spend it on stupid shit like beer, food, and other entertainment.
That’s what I choose to spend it on though.
If I didn’t live in Tijuana, I wouldn’t have any money.
Dude was drunk and tired… he started passing out at the bar and told me his brother is coming to meet him.
Dude passes out in the bar.
His brother arrives. And then I’m just hanging out with him. 3:00 pm. I had a lot of beer. Friend is passed out. His brother is chill and we talk about Tijuana, his brother, and the crazy life.
Crazy fucking life.
By 4 pm, we drag my friend out of the bar.
And then it became his brother’s problem. I told my friend he can come pass out at my place. But he didn’t want too. He wanted to keep partying and passing out in public… so fuck it.
I was drunk.
Already.
Started walking home.
Saw a taco stand that I’ve walked by thousands of times but never really went in. Fuck it. Let’s eat tacos.
They were better than I suspected.
Lengua was shit.
But the suadero was really good. And handmade tortillas. I’ll be going back for suadero in that place.
Came home.
Passed the fuck out.
Woke up at 8:45 pm. Confused.
Like it happens when you sleep before sunset and wake up and it’s dark. And you are like… wtf? Is it early? Is it late?
I figured out that it was still early.
I wanted to go back to bed… but I knew this meant I would wake up at midnight or 2 am and just be really awake…
And I sort of wanted to party.
My rebound… who got demoted/promoted to a friend told me she was coming over.
I told her she shouldn’t, that I was just going out by myself and drink. But she insisted.
I went to Nelson. I saw a lot of friends there. Saturday. The streets were crazy.
My rebound arrived at around 10 pm (she drove). I told her I still wanted to party. So Nelson. Then pizza. Then Chips. And more party.
Came home.
Kept drinking.
Passed out and don’t remember much.
Nothing happened.
I didn’t want too.
I mean… I did but at the same time, I didn’t.
Women are crazy. And they are tough to deal with. This is one where I’m like… yep. Let’s just be friends and leave it at that. She cute. But no. I don’t need this much confusion in my life. And it’s not from my part. It’s from hers. I just am. She changes her mind every other minute.
THIS IS GETTING LONG!
I skip the blog once. And instead of writing 1,000+ words, I ended up writing 2,000+ words.
I still feel like I owe a day. And I want to wrap the blog up to 470 and leave it.
And there’s so much to wrap up for the end of the year. But I’m excited to be done.
I can’t be doing this shit no more.
Word vomiting as much as I can just for the sake of word vomiting as much as I can.
Woke up next to her. Still in a just friends situation. Not to mention my head was killing me. Bad. It was really bad.
She had to cross because she had to go to work. I needed more sleep, aspirin, water, and more. I felt fucking horrible.
And that was my Sunday.
Suffering.
I thought I didn’t drink as much… but it was two days of drinking made into one. Just because I passed out it doesn’t mean I was cured. Nope. It was a mistake.
I didn’t want to eat or think about alcohol the whole day.
I thought about it a lot and thought about quitting drink for a week, maybe longer.
But nope.
Here I am.
Monday and the sun is not down yet and I’m having beers.
Not my fault. They bought them for me.
If I’m not working. I’m drinking.
But I should be working.
I went to Voodoo Stu’s for an awesome Christmas meal. Turkey, Brussels sprouts, roasted beets, and potatoes. Veggies were better than the turkey. I’ve had deep fried turkey a bunch that is not a surprise. Still… made me feel so much better.
I told them I was hungover.
They offered beer or eggnog to make it better.
Nope.
I was done with drinking.
Just sweet tea.
And a lot of it.
And a lot of food.
I felt so much better.
I met a psychologist from London there. I think his name was Will and lived in LA. Cool dude. Gave him my card. He might read this. Probably not.
Martin was there as well. Always a fun character. It’s always a weird home to eat at Voodoo Stu’s. And I missed it. It always makes me feel better. In a strange way, more wholesome.
After that, my rebound came back. You see… she just went to the airport just now. She’s flying back home. So before I even demoted/promoted her, I had already agreed to Saturday and Sunday nights for her to spend it here. Which is fine. I would do it for any friend.
She wanted to party.
I didn’t.
And we didn’t.
We ended up watching Netflix (Sarah Silverman’s stand-up), ordering pizza, and she ended up passing out way before I did.
And then this morning.
Her flight was at 3:45 pm.
We went to go get brunch. Then she wanted beers and cocktails. I told her I didn’t want to drink, but told her I would take her.
Once in a bar… it’s so tough to say no.
And I was feeling better. She was buying. I should have said no.
But here I am.
And once I start, I have to keep going.
Tupidos tacos varios for breakfast. El Tinieblo for mezcalitas and beer. Nelson for more beer.
She’s gone.
I’m getting my week started.
I have to do laundry. Help my mom. Write the article I’ve been talking about. Try to write other articles. And now figure out the photo gig.
Oh yeah.
And it’s Monday.
The last Monday of a celebrity throwback Monday.
Plug in my hard drive.
Look up for a celebrity.
Do this once again.
For good.
Because it’s already been a whole year of daily writing and more than four years of posting celebrities on Monday.
I’m done.
I’m looking at celebrity blogs and I really don’t know who to choose.
No matter who it is… I’m going to be disappointed.
All my good celebrities have been posted. All the good stories are done…
I think.
I’m sure there are still a few stories that I’m too lazy to talk about.
I don’t think I posted about Hilary Duff. And how I followed her on her honeymoon. I haven’t posted the Fergie travels. Or even the Sandra Bullock in Austin…
Or I don’t remember.
Yep.
After combing TMZ and WWTDD… there’s nothing. Just more sexual assault talk.
Let’s look through my hard-drive see if there’s anything that pops out.
SO MANY PICTURES OF EVERYTHING.
Even pictures of Rob Blagojevich.
Or Mark-Paul Gosselaar (Zach Morris).
AND SO MUCH RANDOM SHIT.
Who could be the last?!
Hillary Skwank. Courtney Love. Gloria Estefan.
Cam Gigandet. Don Rickles. Whitney Port. Sarah Jessica Parker. Maggie Gyllenhaal.
Justin Long. Aly Michalka. Chad Michael Murray. Michael Bolton. And random pics of my first kiss when she visited LA.
So much random shit.
And so many other people.
My folders weren’t neatly organized either. So some of them are just unlabeled pictures… and then I see them and I’m like… OH YEAH! That person…
JULIETTE LEWIS!
My old roommate’s girlfriend loves her.
We used to get along.
My friend loves to tell this story when Juliette Lewis came out and she started talking to the paparazzi and she singled me out and said: “you are white, you can be doing a better job than this.” To which I replied, “I’m Mexican yo!!!!”
My friend found this hilarious.
I don’t really remember this.
I remember more the time I saw her and I was by myself. She had headphones on but took them off to talk to me. And we talked about music. This was back in the day Arctic Monkeys were starting to get big. So probably second or third album. She told me she was listening to them. We talked about music.
So let’s see what I have of her.
I saw her a few times. She was always cool except when many photographers were there. And I still remember her being alright.
Oh yeah. I also saw Jerry Lewis, Richard Lewis, and Leona Lewis. And whoever the fuck Andrea Lewis is.
Funny. I think the first time I saw her was the time I was talking about with the Arctic Monkeys. I don’t really like her band… but I LOVE HER!
More than anything because From Dusk Till Dawn was a favorite movie when I was 11 or so… First movie I saw naked women.
And she was on it.
And she was great.
Still, to this day I think… goddamn, that’s good acting.
Her band… well… I could care less. Nothing interesting.
Juliette, if you read this (lol)… I would love to play bass/guitar in your band so I can add mathy/jazzy bullshit to it and you can be more hipster than you already is.
Anyway.
Pictures are from September 21, 2008.
Yep. Exclusive first time.
With a lot of bags. I guess there was a dude with a camera, but I don’t think he was a pap….
(he didn’t follow)
And you can tell she’s cool.
And she took off her headphones to talk to me.
She was cool. Seriously.
I didn’t even know how to take pics back then. But she made it awesome.
After that, April 13, 2009.
To be honest, I don’t remember this day. But I can tell she was cool.
I wish I remembered this day…
I don’t. But you can tell she was cool as fuck.
Some TMZ dude was there.
It was either Erik, Jesse, or Simon. Those are the three TMZ guys I worked with the most…
May 25, 2010, wasn’t that cool.
I sort of remember this day. I remember telling friends that she was cool that not to bother her.
Nope. Asshole photographers were there and ruined her.
She got coffee at Starbucks while surrounded by paparazzi.
And cover her face the rest of the way. All other pics I have are her with the coffee cup in front of her face.
And while she was getting to her car she yelled something… I forgot what back. But I think she was calling us assholes. I remember being disappointed since my first experiences were really nice…
I think I saw Paul McCartney that same day…
This happened October 17, 2010.
All pictures show she was already through security when I spotted her. No interaction. I have no memory of this day.
Last time I saw her was January 21, 2011. Basically, seven years ago.
I’m pretty sure this is the day my friend was referring too.
Tons of paparazzi were there that day, including my friend. I don’t remember. But apparently, me and Juliette talked in front of everyone. She was cool but annoyed. You know, fuck the photographers. But she was joking around and I sort of remember talking to her again… just not what my friend says. That I told her I was Mexican and what not.
I just remember she was cool (again, but annoyed) that day.
And that’s it.
3,000+ words.
Juliette Lewis celebrity throwback.
It’s already dark.
Oh shit.
It’s past 5 pm.
There is one last NFL GAME.
And then… the whole week.
Pay request. Work. Write. Ask for a job. Wrap up the week. Wrap up the blog. Wrap up the year.
Start 2018.
HERE WE GO!
Thanks for reading Y’all.
Again and Again.
Thanks.
Matingas 