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“You will be called everything before you are champion; you´ll have thick skin and an iron backbone; also, pass the digital.ketchup, yo.” (7/18/2019)

Bilta reaches over the picnic table at the small park on the outskirts of Dorinto; he grabs the bottle; he passes it to me.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome”, he replies as he smiles, “always happy to help a friend, yo.”

“We’re not friends”, I reply as I shrug, “you work for me–I’m your boss and own you.”

“You don’t own me”, he replies as he shrugs, “I am here because I enjoy your company and want to work; I don’t need to do anything.  It is all a work of pleasure.

“It would be a pleasure to punch you in the face”, I reply as I pour ketchup on my plate.

I grab a hotdog and dip it into the sauce.

“That’s disgusting, yo”, Bilta exclaims as he starts at me take a bite of the hotdog.

“It’s how I eat hotdogs–I don’t cover them in sauce, I dip them in it.  It’s just how we do things in Dorinto.”

“I’ve never seen anyone else do that”, he replies as rolls his eyes, “like, literally, never one–in the history of hotdog eating, no one has ever dipped on in ketchup before taking a bite.”

“It could happen?”, I respond as I turn my head to the digital.pinata fest, “you ever hit a pinata, Bilta?”

“Once, when I was a kid–no, I’m just kidding, I’ve never hit a pinata.”

“It’s fun”, I continue speaking as I dip my hotdog back in the ketchup, “it’s adrenaline–everyone singing Dale Dale Dale.  You will get lost in the moment and become a stick wielding fucking madman, or velociraptor.  Then, when the fucking candy comes out–oh my God, it’s fucking insanity!!!!  I can’t even begin to explain the rush of the pinata and candy.  You have to experience it once in your life, yo.”

“Nah”, he replies as he picks up his soda, “I’m fine–I literally don’t care.  There are many things that people say that I should do and try but I’m cool.”

“Hardly”, I respond as I look at digital.Bilfty2.1 spinning the sweat tunes that make the people’s feet move at the DJ booth, “but, you should try it one time.  Consider living a little.  Hit the fucking pinata and hope for candy.”

“That sounds aggressive.”

“That’s what we do”, I respond as I roll my eyes, “we are aggressive and dangerous–we start our lives beating the shit of paper princesses to get a couple handfuls of candy.  There’s literally nothing more barbaic–it’s fucking great.  Try it and unleash the beast in you.  It’s cathartic to attack a princess pinata as a young girl.”

“How”, he replies as he sighs, “would you know anything about that, yo?”

“HR was young once–she liked the pinata.  Fucking ninja, if you ask me, really.”

“Ninja business, yo?”

“Hardly”, I respond as I dip my half eaten hotdog back in the ketchup, “but, all the same, you should try it sometime–just experience it.  You probably won’t like it and it’s not as great as I keep yelling, but, all the same, don’t die before you beat the shit, candy, out of the pinata.”

Go to the >> Blog

LAZY & ENTITLED: a short story about how we, all, get there, eventually, but, it’s the wrong road and a bad journey {living a more ethical life, yo} (7/17/2019)

“Why are you still talking, boss?”, Bilta replies as he turns the steering wheel, “my driving is hardly bad and I, somewhat, missed the last pothole, yo.”

“Baches.”

“Excuse me?”, Bilta replies as he signals for a right turn, “I don’t think that I heard you correctly.”

“Potholes”, I continue speaking as I roll my eyes, “that’s what they are called in Dorinto. Baches.”

“So”, Bilta replies as he steps on the digital.accelerator, “why are you telling me this?”

“I like to pass the time with fun banter and witty comments”, I reply as I sip my soda, “I had grand aspirations to be a standup.comic but those days have passed.  Now, I just amuse myself and those in my close proximity with my jokes and one liners, yo.”

“I am hardly amused”, Bilta replies as he turns up the digital.radio, “I, literally, have never laughed at a single one of your jokes–they are actually mean and immature.  I have a cat, at home–my cat makes me smile.  You, just, are annoying and a hassle to be around–I would hardly call what you do comedy or funny.”

“Four.”

“Excuse me, yo?”, Bilta replies as he sighs, “you appear to still be talking. Is there a way to turn you off or mute you?”

“I use noise cancelling headphones”, I reply as I shrug, “people hardly have anything good to say–and, I’m busy.”

I sip my soda; I think that my jokes are hilarious and this soda is, quite, refreshing.

“So, as you were saying”, I continue speaking as I set my soda in the cupholder, “you think that I am lazy and entitled? I work hard and do many important things on a daily basis, yo.”

“Picking out what color socks that you are going to wear is hardly something that I would call important.”

“It matters”, I reply as I look down at my shoes, “you are sending a message to others–you are signaling your thoughts and plans.  The socks that a man wears are, literally, the most important decision that he will make in a day–after the socks, everything else is secondary.”

“I don’t think that they matter, yo”, Bilta replies as he looks down at his flip flops, “I don’t have any socks and you don’t see me complain, yo.”

I pause; why do I have to explain everything to this dude?

“Bilta”, I reply as I sigh, “the socks are all that matters–not having socks is a choice in socks.  Your socks, or lack of socks, influence your thoughts and others–if you want to run a business, you need nice and good socks.”

I sip my soda; you have to explain everything and, yet, I still don’t think that he gets it.

“Bilta”, I reply as I turn my head to look out the window in the space.jet, “if you don’t want to do anything important, forget about your socks.  If you want to matter, be influential and respected, respect yourself–start with considering your socks better.”

“They make my feet hot, yo.”

“What?”

“I have an allergy to cotton and my feet sweat”, he replies as he shrugs, “it’s not a personal preference, but a survival mechanism–it’s how it is.  I can pick the best socks for style, or I can listen to my body, and from my experience, make the right, and wise, choice.”

“What’s the wise choice?”

“That’s the point of ethics”, he replies as he rolls his eyes, “what I’ve been trying to say–you think that I am lazy for not wearing socks.  I think that you are entitled for spending more thought on them then getting good directions.  We don’t have much digital.gas in the vehicle and I don’t know where the next station is located; maybe, if you spent the same amount of time investing in yourself as you do impressing others, we would be at the hotdog cookout by now and enjoying an ice cold soda.”

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Captain Of Your Future

You just need a pep talk?

Go to >> Captain Of Your Future

“No”, HR says as she picks up the remote and turns the volume up on the TV, “I can understand what it must have been like.”

“UNDERSTANDING IS NOT KNOWING”, I REPLY AS I RECLINE THE CHAIR A LITTLE MORE.

Continuing, “you can know a math problem. You can know a capital.  Theses are facts; these are tangible; but, to know a situation–nah, you can understand intellectually. But to know emotionally only comes when you are in that same situation.  You can describe what it feels like to watch the sun rise from the ocean–but, until you know the beauty of the start of the day in the sand as the first rays wash over you–you don’t know it. I can imagine what it’s like for you to be in school–but as a women taking classes on another planet–I don’t know what it’s like, not really. In this way, experiences are transferred clumsily through language, pictures, videos, but without direct experience in that situation, we don’t know; do we really know each other?

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A Daily Dose Of

What it´s really like, yo.

Go to >> Daily Dose Of

You Have the choice to Understand What You Tried To Do >> And The Reality of the situation

  1. Test

  2. Observe

  3. Understand

  4. Change

To Continue With my Theme of the 7 Step Cycle Of Action >>

It Would Be This:

1. Open – I Was open to creating a new blog post to test things out

2. Idea – I Had an idea of how I wanted it to look (and with so many other blogs, I knew The Appearance I Wanted For it.

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Take Back Control

Secrets of the trade.

Go to >> Take Back Control

So here I am at Café Praga off Revolucion in downtown Tijuana at 10:15pm. Writing.

10:15 is interesting. It also happens to be my birthday – October 15th. In a weird sense, it reminds me that I am alive. It reminds me …. well…. better to look forward. I wonder how I will spend 10/15 this year. In years past, I’ve spent that day dancing in the desert of Arizona, mountaineering in Peru, collecting souvenirs in Praga, with most recently a small party in La Presa on the outskirts of the city eating pinguinos y tomando leche.

It’s been about four and a half years since I walked away from a promising career as an engineer. I returned to the old office this past week to find nothing had changed >> not drastically. I lasted thirty minutes there before I walked out.

I left a career where people can be paid $100k plus a year.

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SO… I´M VERY HAPPY IN MY LIFE.

I feel connected in my neighborhood. I am able to spend my time how I like. It took a lot of hard work to get here.

I didn´t think the response would be completely for me–but the negativity really surprised me.

IT´S LIKE YOU´VE GOT HATE MAIL.

I figure that there´s other people out there in a similiar situation.

That´s why I created this blog.

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