I’m happy but also feeling sad.
I got sunshine but also debt in a bag.
More gigs coming my way, more expenses to spend. It’s coming on.
Everything seems to be going great for me. It’s so good, that I got that feeling of impostor syndrome. I work at a taco truck serving and sometimes cooking tacos. And at the same time, I’m a writer for one of the biggest alt-magazines in the country. And I also take their cover photography.
It’s been 15 covers so far this year. This is the latest.
It’s an old shot I did when I did the Nett Nett pop-up studio. People started showing up with their dogs and I got awesome studio shots with pups and people. The story was about that. I also took the inside pictures and had to get more shots. But for the cover, they went with this old shot. I love it. I love doing puppy photography.
I got paid for that. And I got paid for another cover that is coming up about alternative medicine. I met with acupuncturists and other things of that sort for pictures.
And…
I also finished a story I started writing in 2019. That will be the cover someday. My text and my photos. I like when I do that. I can do that more often. I have more ideas.
I also started doing videos for The Food Ranger, a dude that has 16 million followers on Facebook. The gig is simple and fun and it’s food-related. My favorite. I send him all the material. He edits. I eat. I get paid.
I did three videos for him already. He uploaded two so far. The third one, I just found out I never uploaded all the videos. I’m on it now. More videos to come. It depends on him. We’ll see. But I’m happy with this gig. Shout out to my brother Gato for hooking it up.
And I’ll do more food TikToks. And TikToks in general, where the weird future is fucking taking us. Doing food TikToks is what is proving to best so far. I still have to learn to not respond to people.
I need breakfast. And a shower. And keep working.
It’s Monday. It doesn’t feel like Monday. I worked on Saturday. A XVera party. It didn’t go as well as my other shoots. I hate it when shoots are not great. I feel guilty about it. I expect to be a lot and sometimes, I’m not. I did ok. XVañera parties are not my specialty. I was an awkward teenager. I’m awkward around teenagers.
It was my mom’s birthday that Saturday. That’s why I also felt off. I knew since I booked the gig that it was my mom’s birthday. I knew that I was going to be feeling off. I thought to myself that I’ll be fine. I wasn’t. I tried to do the job correctly. But something was off the whole time.
We celebrated the day after her birthday. She would be 65. It’s her third birthday without her. I think about her every day, but more and more during her birthday.
Similar to when it’s my birthday, I overthink about it in the weeks and days prior. And when it happens. It happens.
Though I was busy, and the busier I get, the happier I am, I was dragging some sadness with me.
With the girlfriend/not girlfriend. Things are still great. I feel the best when I’m with her. I’m not sure how she feels. But I think about her all the time. I feel such comfort around her. And I love that feeling. It’s a rare feeling that not many other humans can give me. And I’ll chase that feeling. Because I love being around her.
Welp.
That one gig with the Food Ranger just stopped. It went from doing a few videos a month to pausing production just after I had my breakfast. Not sure if they will try to find someone better/cheaper or simply not enough shares with the material I collected.
It was a good experience and I got paid. On to the next gig. I was getting a lot of gigs before getting this gig. But I liked this gig.
Facebook showed me a memory of me playing Turkish March on my old classical guitar recorded from this iMac where I type this. This is an old computer. The quality in the video is horrible. But the audio is okay. And me… Well… I was pretty fucking good.
If I recorded this with an iPhone X and uploaded new social media that didn’t exist at that time, that shit would be fire. Alas, I cannot play this song anymore. This song is hard as shit.
I still can’t believe I played it.
I was going to get a haircute right now. But decided against it. I’ll go later this week.
I’m getting that impostor feeling again. Yet I can’t stop listening to myself playing Turkish March. There are a few mistakes, but it’s almost passable. If I was playing it with my new guitar, those mistakes wouldn’t be as noticeable. They wouldn’t even be mistakes.
I should play guitar again.
Things were going so great until a second ago that this extra gig is now gone. I have more gigs. I should not worry. But I liked the gig. I made fantasies in my head of more videos I could. I was going to buy a flight to Seattle to visit my cousin and try it to use as an excuse to do more videos and get paid.
And eventually, keep flying to keep doing more food and beer videos and keep drinking and eating food.
Fucking shit.
I do want to be a quote-on-quote “influencer.” But because I want to eat and drink in many places of the world. It’s sort of going that way. The Food Ranger inspired me to do so. Many others have inspired me to do so. If only I had 16 million followers. I don’t even use Facebook anymore. Just to check Como Esta la Linea.
TikTok is the future.
Follow me on TikTok.
I want to go to Ensenada this upcoming weekend. After therapy. Pick up my girl and go camping in Ensenada. And do some videos. Mariscos el Güero is the content this guy needs. I know it would be great content. Better than the one he suggested. There’s so much content in Baja. Might as well be mine. Let’s see if she wants to go. If not, I’m content just being with her in my apartment.
In the meantime, I fucking have to work. I work in the taco truck again tomorrow. And I have a photo gig for the magazine. And I need to get more photo work.
More work work work.
Good. Work makes me happy. Especially if work involves food. Even if it’s serving food. I usually get free beers when working in the taco truck. That alone makes it worth it. Fuck the border though. I want nothing to do with the border no more.
That’s what my article was about. More than 3,000 words about how I hate the border.
Pride parade went by my house. I decided to photograph it.
Here’s from the sky:
Here’s from the ground:
Here are all the pics I took. CLICK HERE!
I also did a TikTok. It got almost no likes. I am no good at photographer TikTok.
I also did a photoshoot for a call center. I photographed all the staff on a simple white background. This is the call center. CLICK HERE. If you are in Tijuana and you need a job in a call center, the vibe there was great. Pictures I took are being used for their media and website in general. It feels nice. I did it for cheap as well. I would l love to do more gigs like that and not cross the border.
I have some money in the bank. Not to pay my student loans. I still ignore those. And it’s not much money. If I paid Andy what I owe him for the camera, then I would have no money. More money is coming in though.
The point is. I need to invest in myself. Since I was getting paid to do video, I wanted the new iPhone, but now I’m unsure. Most of my work is on iPhone, camera, and iMac.
I need a new iMac. A new camera. And a new iPhone. Which one first is the question.
I want to fly to Seattle. Get a new tattoo. Get more video games. Which one first (if even) is the question).
I want to move out of Tijuana. When I can. I hope soon.
I can afford new underwear. At least I can afford new underwear. Need more gigs still.
I just remembered that I had a dream where my mom was still alive. Not much like a dream. But one of those that you are in between sleep and not. In my dream or imagination, there was someone on the balcony trying to get into my apartment. In that state, I thought to myself, if anything, my mom can see him as well from the other room. It must be nothing.
Then I remembered.
And I went to check if there was anyone on the balcony.
If I’m not thinking about my mom, I’m thinking about her (or my cats or work, you get the point though). Almost everything reminds me of her. I let my hair loose for a second. Her. She likes that shit. Every other song that I listen to and I think that she would like her. That’s like a dozen more times per day.
I should keep busy during the whole week. Because I love getting disconnected with her from everything. I strive for a Friday now because it means I might see her. She works a regular M-F schedule (early schedule). The weekend has a higher probability of spending time with her. I crave for Friday.
I have a lot of beans that I got from the taco truck. Like an absurd amount of beans. I’m going to buy some nice cheese so I can make enfrijoladas and bean burritos. It’s a gigantic tub of beans. Accepting it was not the right choice. I’m going to try to make use of it.
Tours. Photoshoots. Music. Writing. Content Creation. Fucking TikTok. Patreon. And more.
If you like me or my blog or my videos or pictures or whatever and want to support me… Please do so on Patreon (Click Here!). My drunk ass heavily appreciates it as I still don’t have a real income. Making it as an “artist” is not easy. Every $ is appreciated. And if you want to see me naked, now you can on the Patreon premium, though that might get deleted soon.
My website is still a mess. My apartment is still a mess. My life is still a mess. But I’m powering through it. It’s getting better. Or so it seems. I feel myself digging out of the hole. Hope I don’t fall and tumble back in. I know there are a shit ton of people in worst-case Ontario, but from where I am, life is hard yo.
Matingas 