42 Weeks, 2 Days: Eternal Sunshine the Toxicity – Frank West Halloween and Day of the Dead – Guest Room and Studio and Work

42 Weeks, 2 Days.


I’ve been busy. Or so I tell myself. And that’s why I didn’t blog last week or did my NFL summary in Spanish, but I’m not sure what I’ve been doing. Just feels like I’ve been busy.


So much happens in two weeks.

Halloween.

My aunt’s visit.

A lot of work.

A few photoshoots.

And a lot of drinking and going out because I am doing that more now…

And drama.


So… let’s start with this Friday, move towards yesterday, and then flashback all the way to two weeks ago. Because that’s how I feel this should go.


Friday in the morning, I went to therapy. I didn’t want to go. My sleep schedule is a bit fucky right now and it was too early. Plus, I felt like I didn’t have to go.

The first thing I told my therapist was “great news! I don’t need you anymore.” Of course, I was lying. Only half lying though… because I honestly felt better about my whole situation and didn’t feel like I had much to share with her that bi-week. She was happy I was doing better and asked if we should slow it down to once a month. Nah. Every two weeks is still fine. Since I never know what’s going to happen anyway…

And of course, shit happened right after…

I was lethargic the rest of the day and didn’t want to do anything… but I finish the delivery I was supposed to do the day before, went back home, took a nap, then went out drinking. I bumped into Gringo friends and they wanted to see Mexican people dance, so I took them to La Estrella. A cute girl was with a different Gringo and the dude was all over her…

Turns out she was in an awkward Tinder date and wanted to getaway.

Then the Gringos went to what Gringos come to do and went to the party to Hong Kong. I went to Nelson for one last beer and went home.


Uneventful really.


Saturday came.

And with that, it came pain from my past. Pain that I had been moving on from. Pain that I didn’t want to feel again.


If you have followed this, you might have a clue of where I am going… but it has been weeks. This drama does not belong to me. And I had all night to deal with it and well… I still feel better. I want to go to therapy… But I just don’t understand people in general, but especially women.


One of my best buddies visited me on Saturday. I saw him the previous week and he told me he had news about that dude that raped my friend. I told him I didn’t wanna hear about it. I was with another friend so he assumed I just didn’t wanna hear about it in front of her.

No.

I simply just do not want to hear about it.


That Saturday, he told me about it.

He told me that dude felt bad because people really believed that he raped her (because that’s what I was told) and that girl sleeps with him every night. Not “I love that girl and she is my future wife.” She just said, “that girl comes to sleep with me every night.”

Yes.

He probably still fucks around.

NOT MY CONCERN!

He is still a piece of shit person. Even if none of that shit happened, he betrayed me so fuck him.

But the part I couldn’t believe is that she went back to him after all the following:

  • She told me she was raped by him, hit, choked, and fearful of her life.
  • She told me she hated him and was going to evict him because he owes her over 16,000 pesos from rent.
  • She told me she hated how because of him, it ruined our friendship (she gives 0 fucks really).
  • She told me her mom hated him (well duh) and that wanted to press charges to have him arrested.
  • She told me he is a manipulative psychopath and couldn’t believe she fell for him.
  • And … well… more.

It’s not my place to talk about it.

Except when people ask me about it.

“Why don’t you hang out with that dude anymore?”

My reply, because a friend that I trusted told me she was raped by him and I don’t associate myself with rapists.


So I texted her that same Saturday. Almost immediately because I’m a dumbfuck and I still have her number.

Her lack of response told me what I feared the most. She’s back with him.


I went out with my buddy. Drank my night away. Hung out with a very pretty girl that I like (it went nowhere). Then hung out with a girl I used to go out with that she’s here visiting and I wanted her (it went nowhere).

But I felt better.

Forgot the whole situation. It’s not my situation.

Mentioned it a few times when the drinking started with my buddy. How I couldn’t believe that she was back with him. How the rage feels and the pit in the stomach filled with hatred. Or that him, as a dude, if someone claims that you raped her… why would you go back to them?


If either of you read this.

Trust me. I don’t want to see either of you again and I don’t mention you at all. Not by name. But if someone asks me “what happened to that dude?” I’m going to say what I was told. He is a rapist. And it is not hard to believe because he is a shitty person.

And let’s say he wasn’t and that girl was lying. Then he is a dumbfuck for going back with her. And she… well she’s even worse.

So if he is not a rapist, he is still a fucking traitor and a backstabber. Which is also PRETTY FUCKING BAD.

You are a rapist, backstabber, traitor, fucking asshole. And her… sigh.


If I could Eternal Sunshine them both of you from my life, I would.

I’m disgusted by your toxicity. A taint in my memory that I wish it would vanish.

And trust me… it will.

Because I have better things in my life and because I’ve said it before… MOVING ON IS HEALTHY. Especially from this toxic shit.


That was my Saturday.


Sunday, I woke up early because I passed out on the couch and my neighbor arrived at 5:15 a.m. with her trans girlfriend and they were making out on the hallway outside their door (which is outside mine). NFL was on my mind, so my brain fired up and wanted to read analytics and predictions on my parlay bet.

I went out of my house at 8:00 a.m. after hours of dicking around the internet reading NFL shit convinced I had the proper parlay laid out in front of me.

Went to the casino.

The system was down. Couldn’t place a bet.

So I decided to walk on Avenida Revolución to get some tacos over at Tupidos. Fuck. Tupidos was closed and it opened until 9 a.m. on Sundays.

I started walking back to the casino when the cops STOPPED ME for no fucking reason but walking on the street.

Their excuse, I was wearing sunglasses. They said it looked suspicious.

I was like… YO! It’s fucking 8:45 a.m. It’s bright as fuck out. Why are you detaining me?

“You are not being detained, but if you want, I can put you in my patrol car.” I should have taken the offer. These fuckers had nothing on me.

They asked me a dozen times if I had drugs. When I emptied my pockets and they found nothing, he checked my nutsack. He didn’t find anything (my boxers had a hole in them, he touched more than what I had bargained). He went through my wallet but showed me he wasn’t taking any money. I told him no drugs.

Oh… so the strategy changed.

Now it’s “you look like you are drugged, have you been doing drugs?”

Yeah sure officer. I have.

Obviously, I denied it.

The strategy changed again, “you smell like alcohol, have you been drinking?”

“Not since last night and I brushed my teeth plenty this morning,” was my response.

This is when work comes into play and I thought being a reporter or that my business card would suffice for them to let me alone. But no. They had to have something. They spoke to each other in code for a while. Then looked at me as if I was on the wrong asking what I was going to do… then they said, it’s fine, take your shit and leave.

GREAT!

THANKS FOR THAT FUCKING COPS!


Went back to the casino, the system was still down, couldn’t place a bet.

And good, cuz I was 4/8 right. I would have lost the parlay.

And I also lost in fantasy.

So fucking reading analytics obviously doesn’t work. Otherwise, a lot of people would be betting and making money.

I’m still convinced I’m going to win that parlay bet.


NFL Sunday sucked for me.

And I had told a friend to meet for coffee and a photoshoot. On my way to the photoshoot, I saw the cop that had stopped and frisked me for no reason. Fucking dumbass thought he would never see me again or that I would recognize him.


The photoshoot actually went great. She’s really pretty and I like the photos. Like always, took way too many and edited way too many to post… three.

But I enjoyed it.


The photoshoot ended near dusk and she left.

I was supposedly going to have a date after that, but that chick just simply stopped texting me back. So no date.


Then I got a text from her…

The victim.

Who is now the girlfriend again…

Who is somehow that… well… I thought I was going to forgive and be friends again. I was moving on and I could see myself dating someone new and her someone new and then be like “hey, we friends again, yet let’s not hang out again.” But nah.

She went back to him.

She wanted to know who was talking about it. Because she had to deal with “her relationship” and doesn’t want “people talking about it.”

I said goodnight to her. Blocked her.

Texted my friend that told me about it to please never mention it again to me or anyone else.


A couple of weeks before that, I texted her something different. A girl I know was hiring at her store in Fashion Valley. I thought she would be a great candidate because she was looking for work. I linked them both together and she had an interview that same Friday.

She never went to the interview. Told me her dad got sick or something. But I don’t know what to believe anymore.

The other girl told me she told her one minute before the interview that she wasn’t going to make it.

I can’t trust this person at all.

And at some point, she said, “you don’t wanna date me, darling.”

Thank you for that. Thank you for what you were. And I’m sorry for what you are. I still appreciate the fuck out of you for being there on my most painful night, but you can fade away in obscurity and I wouldn’t mind.

This is the last time I want to mention either of you in my blog or my life.

If someone asks what happened… I’ll tell them what I know. Because that’s my reality. Don’t like it… well… don’t fucking do that shit toxic drama. Especially when I warned BOTH of fucking you that it would be bad.


Blog therapy.

Feel better.


Let’s move on to happy thoughts, shall we?


My aunt was here from Houston.

My last link to my mom.

They are so different yet still, sisters like sisters are. My mom’s life, though I was there the majority of the time, it seems like a mystery. Though I knew her so well according to myself… there is much more than she kept.

Seeing my aunt in the great aunt (grandma) role with my niece and nephew calms me down and puts a smile on my face. My nephew new her grandma for a short time. She was his favorite person until she was no longer here. And then it became me. But my niece, she was just a baby. And from both sisters, (my mom and aunt) the only female in that bloodline. I had another female cousin, but she died from a heart condition when she was very young.

My aunt had two more boys while trying to get a girl.

And my niece.

She’s my favorite.

The family together makes me happy.

So I hope my aunt flies over here more often. And brings more family with. Those kids, though they are border kids, they still need to be in touch with their American side… Though it’s silly.

Like Mexican third-generation kids who are totally American but the older generation still wants it to be like “hey, remember where your grandfather came from and why you are Mexican!”

That’s what I feel with my niece and nephew. Remember that you are American after all. And Mexican. Both.


Silly world.


My aunt arrived two weeks ago, one day after the last blog. I picked her up at the airport.

We had 0 plans. I arranged my room to be a guest room. My brother had other plans. He had arranged his whole house for my aunt to stay there. I wanted her to stay with me… but the Santa Ana winds were on full blast and my apartment windows get loud at night when they are like that.

Also, my friend Daniela was still around and I had offered her my couch/place until she felt it was time to leave.


My aunt helped my brother and his wife make Halloween costumes for the kids. They looked adorable as a lego kid and rainbow. Yes. My niece wanted to be a rainbow.

They went trick or treating across the border in Chula Vista.


I stayed with Daniela and prepared for Halloween night.

Daniela fucking killed it with my new mask!

SERVBOT MASK!

It’s the best Servbot mask I’ve seen.

And my aunt, that Wednesday I picked her up, helped me pick up the rest of the outfit. Green pants, white shirt, and a leather jacket.

AND BOOM!

I honestly feel like I have one of the best Frank West cosplays out there. All I was missing was the blood on my shirt and a few zombies to chase me around.

Only one person recognized me as Frank West. She (or him) went “omg, it’s Frank West.” After spending hours running around like Frank West with my camera, doing the Frank West move of asking for a picture, and taking hundreds of pictures, only one person got it… ONE PERSON!

I guess he is too much of an obscured video game character even amongst gamers. But that one person got it made me happy. Most people thought I was a Lego or something.

This was her:

After that, one other person recognized Servbot for what it is but didn’t see the Frank West.

A lot of pictures, here is the IMGUR album I created:

It wasn’t as crazy as other Halloweens and some mistakes were made.

We started at Norte Brewing, there is no Halloween scene there. The owner figured it out after two years of trying… in one of them, he offered a free keg of beer for the best costume, no one went…

So it’s not a good place for Halloween… Revolución is.

The streets were packed like always with crazy costumes and just a lot of people and a lot of police detaining a lot of other people. So I ran around with my camera with my best Frank West impersonation and took pictures WITH THE MASK still on!

A challenge!

A fun challenge!


We had drinks at Teorema / Lúdica where Daniela met with some friends and I ran around Revolución taking a shit ton of pics.

After that, we headed to Mous Tache… it was PACKED because Sunset Rollercoaster was playing. I just peeked in, took a couple pictures, and bounced.

Second mistake… Dandy del Sur…

Again, no Halloween scene here, just a normal day. Wasted precious time what could have been watching the crazy Halloween disaster in Revolución.

We were tired, it was near midnight, but the nightcap at Nelson. That had more scene, but it was also late and Halloween seemed to be near its end. Since I had my camera, no more drinking, and back to my place.

Not the best Halloween… but it was still AWESOME!

And for the first time in more than a decade, I was not a cow!!! But Frank West!

Now I have cosplay for Comic-Con (if I go there) or other nerdy conventions and I also have a kickass Halloween costume that no one recognizes for years to come…!!

That mask is near perfection. And it seems like it was built to last. Halloween makes me happy.


Day of the Dead came.

Everyone posts about their loved ones and their offerings. I obviously thought about my mom a lot. Daniela brought her the classic Day of the Dead flowers (Cempazúchitl or Marigolds… and yes, I had to google the spelling).

I didn’t feel like making a post about it. Or an offering of tequila to my mom. Day of the Dead has never been much for me… My mom’s altar is there always, not only for the Day of the Dead. And like I said a lot before, she was everything to me, so no matter where I am, she will still have a place of her own in my place. Always.


I had dreams about my mom a few times already.

I’ve been watching the Bill Gates documentary on Netflix. At some point, they start talking a lot about Bill’s mom. And they finally ask him “what was the worst day of your life?”

Before he even answered, I was crying… I knew it was coming… and he said, “the day that my mom died.”

I erupted in tears.

At least I was by myself. I don’t even remember which night it was.

But I dreamt about her that night. The dreams are always a bit similar. She made it out of the hospital, lost a couple of toes, was doing better, and seemed happy, but with some misery behind her eyes.

And when I have those dreams I wake up thinking she’s still around. She just left to get better or something and I’m going to see her soon.

That’s when waking up sucks. Because I wake up to realize that the dream was just that. And though it is close to a year of my mom not being around… it still sucks to realize it, again and again, every morning.


Saturday, Day of the Dead part 2.

I was supposed to do some work. A very easy photography work over in San Diego. The family was going to cross to be in San Diego as well. Daniela was also crossing. It was perfect… so I told them I would meet them over there.

The border wait line was crazy long, so I kept avoiding it until I was like… IT’S TIME TO GO! And that’s when I googled the place I was supposed to photograph, it was about to close…

FUCK ME!

Gig missed.

Oh well…

I ended up not crossing the border. Since I missed work, I went out with my camera just to say I did something. I did something.


Sunday came… last night of my aunt in Tijuana.

They helped me clean out my mom’s closet. The little that is left. And cleaned the room a bit, it even feels more like a guest room than before. And I have studio lights. So I still have work to do in that room to make it feel like a studio and a guest room and a music room at the same time…

Yep.

That’s the plan.

Until I find some other place to live I guess.


Sometimes I think I can pull off having a huge dog in this apartment. The dog would have his own room… and I would be with him 24/7.

I know that not one thing is the key to my happiness… but I do feel like a dog would make me very happy.

Two cats and a dog.

My landlord would be pissed.

But I can wait until I have a patio. I want a dog.


Monday morning, my aunt left.

My brother took her to the airport.

It felt shortlived, but it was nice. I really hope she visits at least twice a year, but it is up to her.

It’s not much for me, but for the kids.


I crossed later that Monday. I had to work late at night at some show. And I stayed in San Diego.

Chad, my writer sensei master, has quit his job and is now working on his book. I can’t wait to see the finished product. I feel like it would inspire me to write more. And hanging out with Chad is always the best.

Tuesday.

His parents were away for the week, so he was house-sitting and helping her older sister with life (she has mental handicaps). And we chilled. We talked life. We drank beers. We discuss beers and the future of our beer drinking (he is studying to be a Cicerone). We smoked joints. We swam in slow-motion as I dunked my iPhone in his parents’ pool to catch cool videos. We hung out with Rumble Queen, one of my longest crushes in the area because god she’s pretty.

It was great times though going out in San Diego = you spend a lot of money without even realizing you are spending money.


Wednesday, I got emails about work that things have moved, so I suddenly had work early Wednesday, more in the afternoon, and more at night. It was a LONG ASS WEDNESDAY. I arrived home almost at midnight to my two desperate cats missing me or more wanting FOOD. I left them triple the food, but they had finished it by the time I got home.


I woke up really tired on Thursday. I woke up to edit. And work more.

And to deliver the magazine. I took a long ass nap, so I started delivering late and sunset hits so early nowadays.

I went bowling when I shouldn’t have because I told the aforementioned Gringo friends that I would meet them at Los Compas restaurant at 6:00 pm.

I started bowling at 5:30… so I only played three games instead of my usual six.

The only one that matters is the second game that I scored a 172. The other two were bad (102 and 122).

Met them at Los Compas right after.

I wasn’t impressed or I’m not raving about it like other people have. I did a review on my food Instagram of Tijuana Adventure.

I also posted the best of Halloween there.


From Los Compas we went to Norte. My friends that play Starcraft were going to play Starcraft and I was pretty exhausted, but a beer to go, went home.

Didn’t finish 100% my delivery.

I did that the next day on Friday. AND FULL CIRCLE to the beginning of the blog where I told you I would start on that Friday.


Fuckin ayeeeee

Almost 4,000 words of stupid shit.


Also, old pictures from 2010 got bought by the Smithsonian Channel for $100. Weird. More on that later (perhaps).


And…

Speaking of Tijuana Adventure.

The book I wrote of my years as a tour guide… I’m posting it there one chapter at the time. And it will all eventually just be there in one massive post. That’s the plan with it.

Writing a new book soon.

I need to write a couple of articles first to get the ball rolling.

And I shall go back to being a writer for profit instead of spewing all my stupid bullshit in a useless blog that pays me no money.


Until tomorrow.

For a bit.

For NFL review in Español.


A pretty girl is talking to me… AND… she’s married.

It doesn’t matter though. It’s not like I had a chance if she wasn’t.


But I do feel like I have a chance with other girls… Perhaps. Not sure. But I do feel in a weird way craving a relationship.

I’m getting old.


 

 

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