12 Weeks, 2 Days.
There are good days. There are bad days.
Good days can be great. Bad days are horrible.
Good days are when I get to work and my job is fun and satisfying.
Bad days are when little things happen and my brain goes to “fuck everyone.”
And it was a wild week with both types of days.
Thursday was a good day at work.
I did two photo shoots.
One about hip hop fashion… Oh yeah. I still got to finish this one.
And the other for a seafood buffet place. That was delicious.
Hip hop photo shoot went well. Easy enough. Work well done. There’s a nice cushion of covers taken care of that I don’t have to worry about it until May…
Which… is soon.
And in May there is the tacos issue. And Gator by the Bay. And I start with two days of photo shoots.
May is busy. That’s the point. And good.
I should buy my tickets to Mexico City.
In late May I should go back to Mexico City where I was born. And take a stroll in Querétaro where I grew up.
I’m not sure who I am seeing or where I am staying and what I am doing. But I should buy tickets just to go. I need to get out of here.
Saturday was a bad day.
I spent all day heavily depressed. 12 weeks exactly was that Saturday.
Besides that… It felt like my best friend is fucking my girlfriend. Except, he is not my best friend, and she’s not my girlfriend.
But that’s how I felt.
So I spent it at home playing Tetris 99. I couldn’t eat. I wanted to eat, but couldn’t eat. The smell of food was disgusting. I didn’t eat for over 30 hours. Just had coffee and an Electrolit.
An hour or so after drinking the Electrolit… I puked.
I puked a lot.
I am not even sure how there was so much puke in me since I didn’t have anything to eat. But I puked a lot.
After that… I started feeling better. I actually ate something. Not much. But I ate something (frozen Trader Joe’s mini pizzas).
I was still very much depressed. But the depression was not the cause of me not eating. It was food poisoning.
Sunday was a better day.
My Instagram boyfriend came to hang out with his girlfriend sans their cat. My stomach was still feeling fucking queasy. Like badly…
The smell of food was still disgusting me.
I joined them at Estación Central, the new fancy restaurant that has brunch. But I couldn’t eat. I just had some tea and a bite from Greenfield’s brunch (that’s the IG’s boyfriend’s girlfriend’s name, Greenfield (and that’s a lot of apostrophes (and that’s a parenthesis inside a parenthesis))).
After the tea and a small bite… oh yeah. My stomach was bad.
Real bad still.
At least they have a nice clean bathroom there.
After that… I was very very cautious and didn’t eat much. I did have beers. Which worried me a lot.
Especially when peeing… you know… having an accident.
And my appetite is sort of back… I haven’t had breakfast, but it’s early. And I want bacon and toast.
Friday was a good day.
I finished work. I picked up a friend. She complained about the dude she’s been fucking. The dude that she’s been fucking showed up after a while. And that’s when it hit me.
I like her.
My mom asked me once why I wasn’t dating her. I didn’t have an answer. Just that I did before and it didn’t go anywhere. My mom never really asked me about any of my dates…
The girl I briefly dated (Bumble Girl) also asked me the same thing. Why aren’t you dating her?
And Friday… My bartender friend asked me “You really like her, don’t you?” I shrugged it off and said not really.
He said, “I can tell from your body language.”
He was right.
Cuz that’s what triggered my depression.
I wish I didn’t feel this way. I wish I could just pretend to be happy for them in their weird relationship. But I feel the opposite. I feel like I don’t want to see either of them again. Though they are the only friends I’ve been hanging out with. I don’t want to feel this way. But I do. And it disgusts me.
Now I don’t like her.
Now I can’t hang out with him.
I told him not to do it. He still did.
I know I am on the wrong side of things. But that’s how I feel. I lost two friends at the same time solely on my jealousy.
That was Friday.
I also went out with my ex real quick for vegan tacos. Those tacos were the ones that give me food poisoning (I suspect… cuz that’s what my puke tasted like).
Depression and food poisoned.
That was my Saturday. AND!!!!
I also finished the series Tijuana on Netflix.
Tijuana review… HERE WE GO!
First of all. It’s the first time I watch a series and talk to one of the main protagonists while watching the series. WEIRD. Yet a bit awesome. Still… I am a mean asshole that will criticize everything.
Oh yeah. I’ve been talking to Tamara Vallarta or “Gabriela Cisneros” of the series Tijuana since I figured out who she was when they filmed outside my apartment nearly a year ago.
That scene is on episode 10 halfway through the episode. It lasts less than 10 seconds. And that’s how much Tijuana is shown on the series named fucking TIJUANA. Like 10 fucking seconds.
That’s the main issue with me. That is the main issue with everyone from Tijuana…
It was barely filmed in Tijuana and the people in the series do not sound like they are from Tijuana. I heard the word “coche” numerous times which is a nono in this city. Tamara has a line almost at the end that says something like “pareces un cuarenton que no se sabe arreglar, pero tienes ondita.” That phrase will never be uttered by anyone in Tijuana. Ever.
AND A HUGE BUT!
Not everyone watching is from Tijuana. Just like Wagner Moura played a fucking Colombian without even speaking Spanish (his accent was horrendous). Tijuana the series… does that too. For most people that aren’t from Tijuana, they won’t notice, they won’t give a fuck. But for people in the city… is a huge middle finger. This city is huge, yet people from Mexico City still treat Tijuana like “a shitty town far away.”
So yeah… the first and biggest mistake of having a series called “Tijuana” is NOT FUCKING FILMING IN TIJUANA!
Seriously… one of the actors leaves a club in Mexico City, gets in a cab, and he appears wasted next to the store by my house…
The other main actor does the same thing… He grabs the newspaper in a stand near my house, grabs a cab… and appears in a restaurant in Mexico City…
But ok. Let’s ignore the fact that a series named Tijuana is barely filmed in the city of Tijuana.
There are TONS AND TONS of mistakes after that.
Ok. Ok. Let’s ignore the mistakes for a second…
The major issue. And I talked with Tamara about this… It was slated to be released in Univision. So the “made for TV” soap opera feel is there. If you eliminate that… the series could have been better. Way better.
Now… the good.
It’s a pretty good story. It’s relevant to Mexico today. It’s relevant to Tijuana today. It’s relevant to journalism. It hooks you. It’s interesting. At the end of each chapter, it makes you want to watch more.
But… honestly. I probably would have stopped watching if it wasn’t because of Tamara. At the end of the series (no spoilers) I was hooked for another season.
That other season… is most likely not ever going to come.
The guy that plays Gregorio Mueller and his character in general.
More bad things.
Tamara having sex with her shirt on…
More bad things.
I’m kidding, Tamara. You did well. More than well in some scenes. Your maniacally laugh and true voice I only heard once in the scene when you got promoted. Besides that scene, I wasn’t watching the Tamara I know, but Gabriela Cisneros.
Fuck… if Gabriela sounded like Tamara… that series would be unwatchable. It would just be really LOUD LAUGHS and silly voices.
Overall, the series is good.
6.3/10 would be my rating.
If the mistakes were fixed. If they filmed more in Tijuana. If they had a Tijuana accent. It would have been way better. The story/sustenance is there and it has that modern cinematography/picture style. But the rest… well… not really.
Sometimes they take the story to other places that are boring or don’t make sense. Sometimes they have added scenes that don’t contribute to the story.
But for the most part, it’s an entertaining series and way better than I had imagined. I was expecting way worse…
In a way, it’s a Narcos wanna be with 1/10 of the budget.
Finally cooked in my house after two or more weeks of not cooking.
My stomach is still fucked…
At least I have an appetite.
I think I’m really busy most of the time and today I realized it’s not that bad. I have some articles to finish. I have to organize my week. And yes… my calendar is getting really busy. But it’s Monday and I don’t have shit to do for a while…
Get a haircute.
That’s on my to-do list.
Because I need to pick up my media pass renewal soon and they take a picture.
And renew my plates.
Yeah. I’m busy.
I started blogging often again. I guess I am not quitting. The original plan was to quit and write a book with all the previous posts, but neatly organized and edited.
And here I am. Word vomiting again.
Figuring out 2019.
I need to find a therapist. While I don’t. Blogging stupid shit makes me feel better.