November, Approaching the End: Halloween Parties and Photos – Gay Bars with Bumble Girl – No Penthouse For Me (Moving Out)

Do you smell that?

If you do. What a terrific sense of smell.

Winter is here.

I woke up at 3:33 a.m. after forcing myself to stay at least until past 11 p.m. watching the new House of Cards. No more… oh shit.

I already forgot his name.


I had to google K-Pax to remember.

Yeah. No more Kevin Spacey.

No more 2018.

Bye year!

The point is.. was…

There rarely is a point to all the shit I type.

But the end of the year is approaching. And I feel like got shook all over in the past month.

I have emotions!

Who would have guessed!

The fantasy is over.

Not fantasy football.

But the money fantasy is over. For a while, I was getting paid a bit too much for doing a bit too little. That ended this Friday. I still have the possibility of making a lot of money, but it’s not laid out as easy as I had it before. I actually will have to do more work. Which I’m fine with because I need to feel productive. Just getting money for not doing much is not that great.

I’m lying. It is great. But it didn’t help with my depressed little persona.

I have light work today. Photowork. That work is satisfying. I get to take tons of pictures. Edit. People are happy with my pictures. And I get paid.

So I want more photo work.

And the end of the year came with me moving!

My mom also finally got a job!


My plans didn’t pan out.

I wanted the upstairs place. The penthouse. My upstairs neighbor at the beginning of the year told me he was leaving and that I was next in line.

Fucking lies.

He is a politician, so what the fuck did I expect but hypocrisy?

Yep. Messaged him. And he was like “I never said that I plan to stay here for years. Yes, I’m moving out of the city, but I’m keeping the penthouse.”

What a fucking waste.

Now that his dude is president he can afford to keep a penthouse and live in another city?

Yes. I’m pissed.

He is supposed to be a friend. But that hypocrisy and betrayal feels like a “fuck you, I never respected you.”

And he makes me feel that way often. He doesn’t remotely understand what America (as in the USA) is. He doesn’t speak English. He lives in the border. He thinks Mexico is the tits. Just like Americans think they live in the greatest country, he is convinced that he does. And that he works for the best government. Blinded by politics. Similar to religion. In his mind, he is a “leftist chill dude.” But that’s not his energy at all. His energy is “be a right-wing family man or your shit.” I know he judges people for the simple fact that they have tattoos or smoke weed. I do both. He dislikes me or does not respect me because of that. But OHHH he will pretend to do so.

I remember when I met his little sister many years ago. She was playing guitar. I’m a fucking guitar teacher (or at least used to do that). I had children as students (and really old people as well). I talked to her briefly about technique and exercises. Not even three minutes. And he interrupted. I went back to my place. He thought I couldn’t hear him. But I clearly heard him warning his sister about people like me. And that to ignore anything I had to say.

I spent all year fantasizing about moving to the penthouse.

What a fucking waste.

Not only he is staying. He also dropped this little bomb and said, “and you know there is a waiting list, and you are not in it.”

What a fucking asshole.

That’s what politicians do.

Then he tried to blame it all on me. Saying that he explained this to me. Hinted that because “I was intoxicated” I don’t remember.

What a fucking joke.

The end of my life in this apartment is approaching. I wanted the penthouse. I want a bigger space where I can have an office/studio. I know there is more money in photography work and I enjoy it. And that penthouse was perfect. I cannot stay in this place. There is not enough room. It is not pretty enough. And I have an asshole as an upstairs neighbor.

Fuck. Sorry for venting so much.

But I just remembered a couple of months ago when my modem suddenly fucking died. I asked him for his WiFi password and he never fucking responded. I was without internet for five days just because my neighbor didn’t want to share his fucking shitty password. He probably thought I didn’t pay my service I didn’t want to share it thinking I was going to use it forever.

And also…

I really wanted that penthouse. It is a waste under him. But fuck it. He beat me to it. He is staying there. There’s nothing I can do but fuck off.

I have emotions!

And apparently, it’s all hate!


Remember the girl I mentioned I met and liked. Well… she rejected me. Both physically and through text. But I still like her. And as a friend. That’s fine. She’s fun. And it’s a change of pace. I am tired of Tijuana, so having another person to hang out in San Diego is great. And hopefully, I get to that after work today.

And this week I’m going to Las Vegas with a friend. Probably this Wednesday.

That same Wednesday my feature story comes out about Tijuana. A story that was meant a preview of Tijuana 2018, but it turned into a summary of 2018, with musings, and sigh… I just want it to come out so I can move on.

And now that my sweet gig of just getting clients to renew is over. I have to go back to writing.

Never wrote Houston part 2.

Never wrote anything about Seattle. I don’t even know where to start on that one.

I haven’t written anything about Tijuana in months.

My whiteboard has all these old missions I haven’t done (except the photo missions).


Now that I look at it… so many fucking missions.

Let’s add “find an apartment and move out” as another mission.

At least I’ve been looking at places all year. And I conclude that there aren’t that many great ones. But fuck this place.

1,000+ words about how I’m heartbroken for not getting the penthouse.

I don’t want to stay another year here. I stayed here solemnly for the reason of getting the penthouse.

Still feel so fucking betrayed. Even if he said he was moving at the end of 2019… I don’t want to be in this apartment.

I wanted the fucking penthouse.


And now the money is not going to be as wonderful as they promised… I really need to work for it if I want a bigger place.


Seattle, Fantasy Football, Halloween weekend…

Fantasy Football still has MNF. I already know I lost. Almost all the games are defined. There is only one pending and it looks impossible to be an upset. But who knows. So I’ll wait. And that’s in Spanish anyway.


I’m going to try to write neatly about that instead of all this word vomity. So that will have to wait as well.

Halloween weekend… !!!

Well… here we go!

Let’s start with pictures:

78 pics of walking downtown Revu. I posted over 250 in the Tijuana Adventure FB page… 

Oh shit!

I also have Tijuana Adventure. I keep forgetting that I have another source of money. AND THAT THE PENTHOUSE WAS PART OF MY FANTASY. Of a big Airbnb + tours.


I gotta stop thinking about that.

My Halloween costume was a repeat like every year. Yes, bitch! I was a cow.

But I shaved into a stache by accident and became Freddie Moorcury (or Mercowry).

That stache is gone.

And I’m back to normal. Somewhat.

I knew October was going to be hectic. With two flights to different cities for the same wedding. With Halloween, my favorite day. And with an unexpected bumble match turning out to be someone that I actually like.

Now November, with the end of the year approaching, with my tenure in this apartment coming to an end, with 2019 peeking out my window.

Nothing turns out like you want.

2018 turned out better than I expected. Faster. And I made plenty of cash. The best year for that in MANY years.

Except now my student loans decided to rape me. Same with my brother. And we both will have to work our little asses off as border crossers to make meets end. In this crazy end of the world with crazy presidents and a crazy fucking timeline that is beyond CRAZY!


Remember when House of Cards looked so fucking insane?

Now I wish Claire was president. She looks so presidential. And though she murders people and what not… she just seems better to have in the White House. At least qualified. It seems more plausible than the actual fucking world we live in right now.

Oh well. First episode and a half. They did a good job of killing Francis Underwood, but it definitely does feel very forced. Props to the writers. It would cost me a long long time to figure out how to eliminate one of the main characters and sweep his pedophile ass under the rug.

Halloween (Wednesday) was walking around with my friend Bryan while he got excited about some costumes I went back and forth taking pictures of FUCKING EVERYTHING. It was over 550 pictures edited to half, edited to half of that, and posted a shit ton.

Yes. It was a fun night. I could have lasted longer, but nearing midnight I was tired and I didn’t wanna be carrying my camera anymore. Could have come home, then go back out. But no. We ended up buying beers and just playing Dragon Ball Fighterz for the rest of the night.

Thursday I went to do work.

I got really pretty pictures of the sunset.

This post needs a picture. So I’ll post one.


First time in a long time that I don’t use a Reader cover as a picture for the blog. Reason being is… the last cover wasn’t mine. I actually barely even worked on that issue.

And next cover is not mine either. I have a feature story in it… but not my cover.

And the one after that is not going to be my cover either…

I will probably have two or three more covers before the year ends though. And that’s a gig that I’m holding for dear life. And I hope it doesn’t change much. It’s a nice substantial bi-weekly bread and butter that lately I haven’t appreciated it as much. It’s a nice gig. Builds portfolio. Makes money. And as the years go by, my portfolio gets thicker and thicker.

That picture of the sunset was for the magazine.

I took a bunch for the next issue this last Thursday. And I was supposed to meet a guy for a different story. But I got caught in traffic and I wanted more sunset pics. He bounced. I felt bad. But I didn’t miss much.

Except through the confusion, I missed some KILLER sunset shots. More colors.

Winter sunsets tend to be an explosion of color. So I’ll get more of those.

I wonder which pic the magazine will use. Sent like 20 different ones. If it’s the one I just posted… weird coincidence.

I missed the appointment, but the bumble girl I met was hanging nearby the place I was supposed to go. I was going to cancel, just because I wasn’t sure if she wanted to see me or just did it because she felt obligated to do so.

But I went to meet her. And it was fun. Tons of fun. I met her friends. Then we went to the gay bar and had more drinks.

And time went fast. Despite pacing myself, it was very fast. Suddenly, it was close to 10 pm and I was borrowing my brother’s car for work, not to party. I also had to do him a favor. And despite wanting to stay with them… I had responsibilities. And rushed to pay his rent and back to the border.

I saw her the following day. For the other Halloween. Friday.

It wasn’t as good as the actual Halloween. The two Halloween parties were just parties with barely any people dressed up. I abandoned my cow costume at the second party which was barely beginning. I said I was going to be back for it. I didn’t go back for it.

Feels like a good riddance.

I will have to invent something else next year.

At the same time, I can go pick it up. The party was at my friend’s house. Who also dressed up as Freddie Mercury…

We never went back to either party though it was my intention. I wanted to hang out with my old roommate and his girlfriend a bit more. I wanted to listen to the other bands. I wanted to see if the other party ended up like the Halloween parties they had.

But no.

We had a little Tijuana Adventure.

And Bryan joined in.

Me and Bumble girl ended up in the gay bars with her gay friend until almost 5 a.m.

It was fun. But also exhausting. Getting too old for this shit.

I spent all Saturday sleeping. Went out to hang out with my old roommate a bit more… but we never coincided despite being in the same area.

Drank a beer. Went home to play Mario Oddysey.

I fucking love my Switch.

I want to continue typing forever. And ever. It feels good to clear my thoughts into the blackhole that is the internet.

Breakfast. Shower. Get ready to cross the border. Figure out how to do work. Find an apartment. Get rejected by bumble girl. Continue living. Making money. Going places. Growing my career. Shitty blogging.

It all seems alright.

It’s all good man.

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