Counting down.

It’s almost over.

2019.

Almost done.

2019.

We’re turning another year. We’re turning another number.

I need to start planning on what I’ll be doing over the break. Sure, there will be cooking, but what else.

Will I stay home again and do nothing, or will I go out and explore? I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet, but I may go to a few museums to get a feel for some art.

Maybe a few galleries too.

I need some inspiration.

I need a break.

I need to be free from this analytical mind of mine.

I need to get my creative juices going.

I need a rest.

2019.

It’ll be over in a few short weeks.

2019.

I need to think what kind of year you have been.

Okay-ish?

Possibly.

More later, in my yearly bah humbug to all posting.

Speaking of which, I need to go back and see what I wrote in the past few years.

Year-end rituals.

Sigh.

A creature of habit.

I need to find inspiration from other artists and see what inspires them.

Some paint basic everyday scenes. Others are abstract.

I’m finding my voice.

I’m finding my style.

I’m finding my practice.

I need to find my balance.

I’ll get there.

I’ll find myself.

Blah.

This isn’t going anywhere.

Distracted.

Very distracted.

Maybe I’ll do work.

Doing work.

It’s November.

Blink and the year is almost over.

Blink and the calendar will turn another number.

Blink.

Time flies.

Fly fly away.

I’m not going back home for Christmas. Didn’t even look into tickets as I got busy with work again and wasn’t even thinking.

Then it seemed time passed, and it was a little too late.

Also, it seems like Great Uncle’s memorial will be on Christmas Day and I should be here for that.

I’ll be sticking here again during the break.

It’ll be good. It’ll be great.

I think I’ll need to plan a few trips without Pickles during this year. I need to go visit 7th Uncle.

I haven’t seen him or auntie in a few years and it’s about damn time.

I need a break. I don’t think I’ll be doing much work over the break. I hope not.

The SharePoint environment isn’t pressing that I need to move and migrate everything asap.

It’s functioning and performing well.

I can take a break and work on the migration later.

But there are many other projects that I need to get started on or even start thinking about.

Work.

Sigh.

It’ll kill me.

Death.

Work.

Let’s see if things slow down and things get better.

I brought it upon myself and in a way, I’m kicking myself for it.

I just want to chill and not do anything.

Why can’t I be like Carl?

Just chill and not do anything and explain that a superficial ding is affecting a specific software.

That was majestic.

So majestic.

My mind is a mess.

Too much focus on work.

Too much stress from work as my projects keep growing and growing with no end in sight.

There are still a lot of things that I don’t know how to do, but I want to know how to do and need to learn how to do.

How do I fit in the necessary skills and schooling when I don’t have much time?

I can’t just put all my time and energy into work.

There needs to be a balance.

I need balance.

We all need balance.

I’m just trying to keep my head above everything.

I’m just trying to find the energy to breathe.

My body aches.

It’s telling me something.

Another sickness?

Another illness or am I just not aligned?

Can’t wait to get adjusted. A few more days.

A few more days.

Tired.

Tired.

I think I’m done.

Done done.

Back at it.

It’s time again after settling in at work.

Working on the weekends.

Lots of working on the weekends. It’s fun.

Fun times indeed.

Sigh.

Will it end? I don’t know.

Times are tough.

The industry is tough.

The future, not so bright.

Sigh.

I don’t know what to write anymore.

I don’t know what to do anymore.

It seems I have so many things that I need to do.

But I JUST DON’T KNOW WHAT I NEED TO GET TO.

Too much.

I need to learn more about sql.

I need to learn programming.

I need to learn html.

I need to get on my art projects.

I need to get on my cooking projects.

I need to catch up on my shows.

I have so many things that I need to do at work.

Where do I start?

Where?

What about me and my sanity?

There’s just too much.

Reading?

I’m falling behind on that, too!

So much.

It’s all first world problems, but again, they are my problems.

And there’s all this shit that is happening in the fucking work.

Don’t trust China. China is asshole!

Fuck China.

There’s just too much.

The impeachment inquiries.

Fuck Trump.

Just fuck everything.

The world is in a tailspin apocalypse and I don’t know if we’ll ever get out of it.

I don’t know.

It worries me.

So worries me.

Sigh.

It’s a bunch of sighs.

Everything is a bunch of sighs.

Work.

Sigh.

Life.

Sigh.

Love.

Sigh.

Girls.

Sigh.

Pets.

Sigh.

Me.

Sigh.

Sighs.

Sigh.

What to do? What to do?

I’m rambling.

I’m always rambling or ranting.

Angry Asian.

Sigh.

I’m not as in my head anymore. I’m not as broken as I once was.

Life flipped for a mew a few years ago as I’ve gotten better about my life and I guess after I come to terms with many things.

I’m not fixed, but fixed.

I don’t have all the frustrations that I had when I was younger.

Sigh.

Will I ever keep this up and fill it with something with more substance?

I don’t know.

I know nothing.

I guess I just needed to get out of the house today because it’s my habit to come here and do my finger tappings.

I wanted a time out before I start work for the day.

Sigh.

Work.

Yay.

Soon you’ll get better.

I’ll get better soon. I’ll get free from my psychological binds.

I’ll be free to express myself more than I already do.

I’m going to this here for my sake. Something for me to look back on when I need the confidence to do better art.

This has been coming for a long time now and I know it is something that I must do.

Going to Spain, seeing some of the art from a Master, Picasso, gave me the inspiration to break free from my old mindset of what art is.

Last night, I came across a Story from an Artist that I follow on Instagram, redhongyi.

Here’s her story.

I cried.

Tears flowed.

It meant so much to me. It hit me so hard.

I cried.

Tears.

What she captured in her story has been something that I’ve been struggling with my art for a while now. It’s something that was hard-set in my mind when I was younger.

It wasn’t until I started to do more art now, at my age, that I realized that I need to stop.

There’s a limitation and fear in me that if it doesn’t look like what I set out to paint or draw, then it’s a failure.

It’s hard.

All my art that I’ve done for this project, I have tried to replicate from a source picture. I’ve done a few more abstract pieces where I’m learning how to use the software and tool, but that’s about it.

I’m starting to learn to break free from the photorealism mentality of what art should be.

Being in Spain, seeing the art, and some of the works by Picasso, helped me realize that I don’t have to focus on the resemblance of what I’m trying to paint or replicate. I just need to present an idea of it and that should transcend what I’m trying to paint.

It’s a hard lesson I’m trying to learn. It’s a problem I’m fighting to overcome.

I’m starting to break free, but I’m not there.

I don’t know if I’m starting to break free because I’m tired of my work not looking like what I’m trying to do or I’m that I’m okay with it not looking like it and liking that it has some resemblance of it.

I don’t know.

I really don’t.

I find it fascinating that I had the same thought of art like mom’s when I was younger. At the Prado museum in Madrid, mom was looking at a big painting of The Animals entering Noah’s Ark and she mentioned that she like this kind of art better than what she saw at the Picasso museum.

When she said, “this kind of art”, she meant Renaissance art because it depicts a realistic view of the subjects and what is being painted. She understands and see what’s being painted.

With Picasso, she doesn’t understand what he’s doing. She doesn’t understand cubism. She can’t figure out what she’s looking at.

I was that way. I loved the old modern Renaissance art because of that. The realistic nature of the piece.

Now, I’m bored. I’m bored with the Renaissance.

I’m bored with the life-like depiction and rendition of the piece.

Give me some modern art. Give me some cubism. Give me some abstract.

Give me something different.

Maybe I’m just looking for some inspiration or some affirmation that I don’t have to fully replicate a true-to-life exactitude to what I’m painting.

I should take liberties with my work. I should interpret what I see to something else.

I’m trying.

I’m trying.

I’m 40 and I’m trying.

I’m 40 and I’m still learning.

It’s tough. It’s new.

It’s different.

Maybe I should just embrace the faults in my work. In a way I do. In a way I do consider some of the work finish and be like fuck it, I’m done.

I’ll publish it because it’s part of the project.

It’s all a work in progress.

I’m still finding my voice.

I’m still finding my style.

I’m still new at this.

I’m so used to trying to get the details right. Trying to finesse the painting to what it should be like that I get frustrated when it isn’t. Then I move on, not satisfied, like I’m giving up.

I’m learning to let it go and embracing it.

Seeing some of Picasso’s work and realizing that he doesn’t care about the details and the finesse gives me confidence that I shouldn’t too.

Seeing how he drew a man’s hand like bubbly loopy hand fingers similar to a kid’s drawing gives me strength to move the fuck on and not worry about perfection and accuracy.

I’m hooked.

I need more.

I need to see more work. I need to see more artists.

I need to do a deep dive into more artists so I can get more confirmation and affirmation that I’m doing okay with my work.

It’s not good, but it’s okay. Good will come later with practice and a voice and a passion.

Be okay.

So, thank you Red Hong Yi and Picasso for giving me the strength to move away from the idea that “art” should be an accurate reflection of your subject.

Fuck it.

Fuck it, indeed.

Back.

Back from the far distant lands of Espana.

Spain.

Love.

Two weeks of rest. Two weeks of exploring. Two weeks of vacation.

Break.

Vacation.

It was a much-needed break from everything. It was a much needed break from work.

Break.

Back.

Spain.

What can I say?

It was a great trip.

I got to see and explore many of the cities that we went to.

The downside, the first week of the trip was raining.

It rained for most of our stay in Barcelona and Madrid.

I wished the weather was nicer so we could have explored more. I don’t think I can make a fair comparison on which city I loved best because of it, but at the moment, given how things work, I would pick Seville to be my favorite.

Everywhere was very walkable.

They didn’t have a metro system unlike Barcelona and Madrid, but they did have a shuttle system that we didn’t use.

We walked everywhere.

The narrow European streets were everywhere and I’m in love with each and every one of them.

I also think the food was much better in Seville. They were some of the most memorable.

I would love to go back again, to explore more, to see more, to get away from the touristy now that I’ve seen them all.

My bro planned the trip, so there were a lot of touristy stuff, but it’s all right. I’m there. I’m exploring.

That’s all that matters.

I get to walk the streets and document wherever we went.

I hope the pictures turn out okay. That’s what I’m worried about the most.

I felt it wasn’t my best.

We shall see.

Family.

It was definitely some family time. 2 weeks of family.

That’s a lot.

My bro didn’t get on my nerves like he would normally do.

My mom did. I can understand where she’s coming from, but can’t.

She’s young, she shouldn’t be so tired all the time.

We’ll go visit an attraction and by early afternoon, she’ll be tired so she stays in the hotel for the rest of the day. Depending on the weather, she may or may not get dinner.

It is what it is.

It’s her money.

It’s her life.

I wish she’d done more or was more game.

But, on the bright side, she showed up. She did go with us.

Win?

Win.

The food.

THE FOOD.

Holly hell.

The food.

The food was amazing.

The tapas were amazing.

Most everything that we ate were great. They were excellent and definitely gave me a lot of new inspiration and ideas of how to do new meals and new dishes.

My favorite dish is probably tripe stew with chickpeas. It’s both funky and delicious at the same time.

My favorite type of combination.

I’ve eaten everything and things that I normally wouldn’t eat like Chocolate.

I’ve had so many churros and chocolate that I’m like, who the hell am I.

The chocolate wasn’t sweet. There’s a hint of sweetness. The rest is just chocolate flavor. Slightly bitter.

That I can get down with.

Food.

Ahh, the food.

I have so many pictures to upload.

I’ve had paella once before at the farmer’s market and, I made it once. They both didn’t impress me much, but when I had it in Madrid, I was sold.

I need more paella in my life. I need more paella with the garlic aioli.

Tomato bread. Who would have thought that light crispy baguette rubbed with tomato would be so good?

I think that it had more to deal with the crispy bread than anything else, but holy fuck, they were amazing. It was only in Barcelona and Madrid that the bread was great. Didn’t eat much after that.

In Granada and Seville, it was mostly table bread that I’ve tried, except for the toast for the pheasant pate. That was yum.

Empanadas were great too. They weren’t like the ones I had, where the crust was bready. It was more like Japanese pan croquettes.

Yum.

I think the funniest thing about our eating habits was that we didn’t include any salads until our end of Madrid, which was about halfway through the trip.

I needed some leafy greens or some kind of salad in my diet. I was protein-ed out. Too much meat.

Who would have thought, me, too much meat?

Another fascinating thing regarding our eating habits is that everyone thought we’d order too much food. But it wasn’t. We have eating habits of Americans.

We’re fat. We’re obese.

Plus, I kept to my IF schedule. Instead of OMAD, I did a 16/8. I skipped breakfast but gorged for lunch and dinner. Sometimes, we’d even skip lunch.

So, famished.

I think the one meal that we struggled was our first dinner in Madrid. It was a lot of meat.

Like, meat. All meat and carbs.

A lot.

Sigh.

Spain.

Great food.

Inspired me to make many of the dishes that I tried or inspired me to make some version of it.

Off.

Off to the world that surrounds me.

Off to the sky, high up above.

Off to a far distant land.

Espana.

Spain.

Vacation.

Fucking holy hell, it’s been a year and a much much deserved break.

The year’s been challenging, but I think I’ve had worse.

We’ve been trudging along on this project and there’s some semblance of it being finished that brightens my mood.

Stress will always be there, but it’s not this pressing damage that I feel.

There’s not hovering pressure to get things right, especially when it comes to SharePoint.

The migration is going, and I’ve moved quite a few sites.

It’s trudging along and there aren’t any slowdowns or issues.

I dropped Pickles off this morning and my flight isn’t until 6:25.

Mom and my bro won’t arrive until 3pm, but I am to be at the airport around 2 or 2:30 to just chill, grab some food, and make sure that I get through security and get our tickets without any issues.

I like to plan, get there early so I can deal with any problems.

It should be simple and easy to get the ticket, but I’m paranoid.

I hate stressing.

So, I’m just chilling.

Load up on some podcasts or might even start a book. Do something different. No idea.

Just chill.

Spain.

I have no expectations.

I don’t know what to expect.

All I know is that I’m excited to go. I’m excited to explore and chill with mom for a European vacation.

There are some worries about what’s planned and how much mom can do and walk.

She’s healthy.

She should be fine.

I’ll try and control my annoyance. I have no patience for a lot of things, and I know those are things that I need to work on.

Things to work on.

That’s my life.

The story of my life.

So many many things to work on.

I want to experience their food.

I want to experience their wine.

Traveling is all about experiences.

I buy experiences.

I don’t buy things.

Waste of money.

Trinkets and things are objects that your joy for will eventually fade.

Experiences are ingrained in your body, your soul; leaving you with a deep impression and nostalgic memories.

I still remember my time in China. The awe of my first international trip.

I remember the joy and foreign-ness of Tokyo and its magical neon and all things Japanese.

I remember the pang in my heart of seeing the country where I was born but have no memories of. The joy and wonder of seeing the old family house or being the old village that my parents and family grew up in.

Travel.

Experience.

Joy.

Spain.

I didn’t plan the trip.

I didn’t plan any of the European trip.

My bro did.

I’m okay with all the things that we’re doing.

Museums.

Art.

Culture.

Things to pass the time. Things to do to explore and experience what Spain is.

I look forward to it.

I look forward to the food.

I know my bro got things all mapped out on food and such.

I hope my mom would be okay with everything.

I hope my mom would be game.

I hope my mom could keep up.

But we shall see.

If not, we’ll amend.

We’ll adjust.

Life is just adjustments here and there.

I’m off.

I’m glad.

Vacation.

Much deserved.

Bring it.

Types.

Typing.

Putting my thoughts in this void.

Words.

Here I go again.

I’m unsure what or even when my last post was. A few weeks?

Looking back at the latest entry, I touched upon my last trip.

I’m back.

I hiked.

I explored.

I napped ’cause I got fucked up.

Here I am.

Typing.

My little planned extra-long weekend was successful.

I had a great time and a tiring time hiking and doing some minor exploring in Santa Ynez wine country.

I stayed in Buellton, a few miles from Solvang.

I headed straight to Los Leones trail right after dropping Pickles off for boarding.

The hike itself wasn’t bad. Not as strenuous as I thought it would be. There wasn’t much shade, but that’s all right. I did it first thing in the morning.

I see why it’s such a popular hike. At 7 miles round trip, it’s a good long moderate hike for people who doesn’t like Runyan. It’s for people who are looking for a decent hike.

I would do it again and I’m grateful to know that it’s so close.

The views up at the top should be amazing but the marine layer was burning off when I got there. I still saw the Pacific and took in the views.

I had places to be and I was running a little late. I know that there was another trail at the top that connects somewhere else. I might look into it and stretch it out to a long hike sometime in the future.

My next stop after Los Leones was Ojai. I hiked the Santa Paula Canyon Punchbowls.

It is a poorly marked 8+ mile round trip hike along a creek. I lost the trail a few times and ended up on the wrong side of the creek a few times.

At the big punch bowl with the waterfall, I sat, cooled down, relaxed, and fueled up as I watch people swim and dive off the cliff.

Me. Water. No good.

I enjoyed my time though.

When I started the hike, there were two overweight women who started at the same time as I did. I started close to 12:30 or 1pm. When I left, they haven’t gotten to the punch bowl yet and I passed them while they were resting.

I praise them for making the effort to do it. I praise them for wanting to see the punch bowls. It is pretty.

I praise them for wanting to make a change and get out in nature.

I thoroughly hope that they finished the hike and got back okay, and I wish them both the best and that they loved every single second of it, even though I imagined it being so tough on them.

Good for you.

Good for you.

I hiked close to about 17 miles that day. My Fitbit said 19 but I know that the calculation is off a little bit. I split the difference between the trail lengths and my Fitbit, plus I explored some bits here and there.

17 miles.

Sore. Tired. I got to the car and fucking continued the long ass drive to my hotel. Man, that was a long ass drive.

I lucked out for dinner and made a quick reservation at a fine dining place that got a Michelin Plate award.

It was pretty good. I did the grand tasting menu. It was like 5 courses for $90 and had a few glasses of wine.

The duck wings were pretty fucking great.

I walked around a bit, exploring downtown Solvang and then drove back to the hotel.

Tired.

Full.

But fucking tired.

Morning morning.

Bright and early, ready to go.

I got to my first trail close to 8 in the morning.

Inspiration Point.

There wasn’t any parking at the trail head, so I had to find street parking and there were so many cars lined up already. On the way up, I saw a few people hiking up the street.

Overall, it wasn’t a bad hike. It was a quick 2 miles up to the top.

The marine layer was thick that morning. I didn’t see much at the top. But I explored anyway.

Hot. Sweaty.

Thankfully it wasn’t hot hot. The temperature didn’t rise till afternoon and the marine layer didn’t burn off till then either.

I spent a lot of time at the top exploring all the different small trails that went nowhere.

More and more hikers were coming as I was hiking down. Thankfully I got done when I did. Being stuck behind them would suck.

One thing that I noticed about hiking in Santa Barbara, it was very dog friendly. They’re allowed off leash.

Beautiful.

Just. Beautiful.

My next hike was meant to be somewhere in Rattlesnake Canyon State Park.

I didn’t know what to expect, but I thought the State Park would be like a State Park. It wasn’t.

The area was designated as a state park, but no parking lot. No gates.

I drove up and up and up the mountain and couldn’t find anything. I decided to then do the Rattlesnake Trail but came across a different trail.

West Fork Trail.

It’s what Benjo’s friend classified as Disaster Porn.

You start the hike by going down the valley. It’s about 1.8 miles to Cold Spring and another .3 to the road. The trail itself was good. No shade, but I got the marine layer.

The downside was hiking down first.

Tired.

There were some areas where the trail was covered by loose sand and gravel from landslides, but it wasn’t that bad.

At the bottom came a fork and I wanted to do more hiking. I tried to figure out where the other trail went and found out it went on this giant loop.

That’s what I did.

East Fork Trail.

I got lost and went the wrong way and went a long way around, but it was fun. Tired.

I didn’t even go to the lookout that I was aiming for because I was almost done.

I eventually meandered my way back to the Cold Spring and then I had to hike back up to my car. 1.8 miles up.

1.8 miles.

UP.

The sun was coming out. The temperature was rising in the valley.

Hot hot heat.

I was so done.

I was on my 13th mile, heading onto my 14th and I was done.

I was cursing myself.

Done.

Done.

I managed to get to my car, and I drove to downtown SB and said fuck it. Ice Cream.

I got some ice cream and then I decided to get some lunch.

The Habit.

While there, some fucking kids decided to take my table and move my shit.

Fucking rude.

Fucking rude.

I wish death upon them.

I really do.

No, not really, but I do.

I really fucking do.

Over and done.

Done and done.

I drove back to the hotel.

Beaten and broken.

Everything fucking hurt.

Knees.

Feet.

Back.

Hips.

Body.

Done.

I showered and rested a bit before I headed to Solvang for dinner.

I didn’t have much of a plan for dinner at Solvang.

I parked and just walked around. I tried to find something that interested me, but nothing did.

I ended up getting Vietnamese food and I was satisfied.

Ice cream again for dessert and it was a good night.

I stopped by a Tiki Bar for a glass of wine and some live music and called it a night.

Tired.

Broken.

Beaten.

Rest was what I needed.

Rest.

Day of relaxation.

I slept in.

I managed to sleep in.

I didn’t leave the hotel past nine and I did something I haven’t done in a while.

I got breakfast.

The plan that day was wine tasting.

I needed something in my stomach.

I went to a local diner and after, I chilled a bit in the hotel before I left.

I didn’t have much of a plan that day. I didn’t know where I wanted to go, but I know that I wanted to start in Santa Ynez.

After some quick research, I decided on SunStone.

It was good. I like the person that helped me. She was good.

The tasting wasn’t bad either, a mixture of white and red.

The tasting was for six and she gave me about 10 to try after finding out that I’m more of a red. She had some great recommendations and I got some balsamic vinegar and a bottle of the petite Syrah. That was yummy.

While I was there, I overheard her tell a couple about a winery in Los Olivos where you can paint while you drink.

I thought that sounded interesting and that was my next stop.

Not what I was expecting.

Not at all.

It wasn’t like a paint and drink thing.

They had one easel with a pad where you can paint, but that was it. They have their own gallery and was showcasing a local artist.

Her work wasn’t bad.

They had a lot of paintings from past people who dabbled on the pad posted on the ceiling.

Overall, I hated every single tasting at this winery.

Every.

Single.

One.

I think they poured me 11.

So, I was fucked.

I drove back to the hotel. Don’t remember much of it and just passed the fuck out.

Got back close to 3:30 and woke up around 6:30.

I grabbed dinner in Buellton at some warehouse area. Tapas.

It was pretty fucking good.

I over ordered like I normally do, not knowing what I was getting into. You order at the counter, get a number and that was it.

The food was good. Modern. American.

The thing that surprised me was the rabbit liver.

So fucking good.

I didn’t sleep well that night. I stayed in and did some painting on the iPad and then called it a night.

Didn’t sleep well.

Bright and early Monday, I drove home and that was it.

I got home before 9AM.

Good trip.

Great hiking.

Definitely will need to do again.

I think I already have my next place lined up.

Just need to do some research.

Looking forward to it.

Here we go.

Here.

We.

Go.

Wait for me to come home…

Oh, so the line goes, but there’s no one waiting. No one.

The only ones that wait are the animal kind. They wait because they must. They wait, because they are loyal.

They wait.

I will never abandon them. I will take care of them. They are my kin. They are mine forever.

Forever.

Life.

What is there in life?

Life is this. Just this.

Just what you make of it.

Passing time.

Passing minutes.

Passing seconds.

Just passing.

Life.

This.

What you make of it.

You.

You have control.

Well, under most circumstances, you have all the control on how your life is.

Things that you don’t, go with it.

You have the choice to move on or dwell.

I chose to move on.

I chose to be me.

Loneliness.

Friendless.

“Millennials are the loneliest generation.”

That’s what I keep reading.

They don’t have friends.

Many of them often feel alone.

I don’t have this issue.

It’s not that I have friends. I only have one close friend.

Most of my friends are people that I work with…coworkers would be a better categorization.

I’m often alone.

But I’m rarely lonely.

I guess not many can cope.

I enjoy my alone time. I enjoy my solitude.

It’s like a comfortable blanket, wrapping me up in a warmth. This solitude.

Alone.

Solitude.

It’s a feeling, but it all depends on the word you use.

Loneliness.

Solitude.

They are one in the same. A word. An experience.

But their meaning and their affliction are so different.

So so different.

Solitude.

Bliss.

I’m so in love with you/I hope you know

No one.

No one.

Never been in love and given how stubborn and passive I am, there’s a possibility that I may never.

I have the control over that, but I’m inactive.

Passive.

I am confident that I can ask someone out on a date. I’m confident that if I get rejected, that I won’t be devastated and will be able to bounce back.

But I don’t act.

Why?

I don’t know what I want.

I love my independence.

I love my freedom.

I can’t reconcile how I can live with that while in a relationship.

No idea.

Girls show a passing interest in me.

Yet again, I don’t act.

Passive.

Inactive.

It’s a problem with me. No one else.

Me.

Something I’ve dealt with and lived with a long while now.

Something I’ve resigned myself to.

Self-inflicted.

Me.

Break.

Summer.

We’re in the thick of it.

Work is work.

Projects are projects.

They keep mounting up.

Soon, one phase of the Db project will be over as we settle on the Db creation and move onto the reporting phase.

It’s a good midpoint for celebration.

It’s a good midpoint for a break.

That’s what I’m planning.

It’ll be another hiking trip. This time, Santa Barbara and Santa Ynez.

I wanted to go hiking in a place that I’ve never been, and I’ve always wanted to go wine tasting there.

Each time I went to Santa Ynez, Solvang, and surrounding areas, I had Pickles with me.

This time, it’ll be me.

Hiking.

Wine tasting.

Relaxing.

Solitude.

Treat yo’ self.

I do what I do best.

Me.

I have to a little more research on where to hike, but I have a rough idea.

I drive up on Friday and leave Monday.

Find some hiking on the way up on Friday and all-day hiking on Saturday.

Haven’t decided if I want to hike on Sunday or not or treat it like a fun day with wine tasting and exploring that area.

Maybe hike in the morning and then have some fun in the afternoon.

I still have a few weeks to decide and I’ll leave it open.

It’ll be something to look forward to.

Then in just a few short weeks, Spain.

Living life.

Exploring.

Treat yo’ self.

Live.

Life.

I reward myself for all the hard work that I do.

I do a lot.

A lot.

Dialogue.

Speaking of treating oneself.

I want to go back.

I told myself that once the database project is finished, I’ll go back again for their Summer Menu.

Soon.

Soon.

August seems to be a spendy month with the traveling and such, but I deserve it.

So much overtime. So many weekends spent working.

I need some fun.

This is fun.

For me.

Treat yo’ self.

Do it.

Do. It.

Art.

Finally getting back to the swing of things.

Finally getting back to practice.

Finally had the time to zone out and paint.

My latest piece was a Red Panda.

For some reason I wanted to paint a red panda. I found a pic and went to town.

I did it.

It’s not the best, but I thought it was good, given my skill level.

I plan on doing another one tonight.

I don’t anticipate any work tonight or if I do have any, it’s setting off another sync that will finish in the morning.

I’ve wanted to do a nude.

It’s not going to be good.

I know my skill level.

It’s not going to be photo realistic. Not even close.

But I want to make a nude.

I’m still trying to find my style. I’m still trying to find what I can do.

I have it in my head to do it in as a palette knife painting.

Not sure how well it’ll turn out or if Krita has a palette knife.

But, do it.

Let’s do it.

There’s still so much I don’t know about digital paintings.

I have so many questions.

I have so many assumptions.

I’m googling them to find an answer and am still unclear.

I wouldn’t mind picking someone’s brain about it.

Let’s see how tonight’s paint goes before I do.

What dpi should I set my canvas?

What size?

So many questions.

Blah.

Blah indeed.

Got a surprise today.

After a long day of working at home and already an hour this morning, I arrived at my local hangout and setup like I normally do.

The boba girl was busy doing her work and I sat and did what I needed to do until she was ready. She usually calls me when she’s ready, but today she brought me my tea.

I went up to pay and she said to not worry about it. It’s her last day opening here, so she won’t see me anymore.

“It’s on me,” she said.

So sweet. So unexpected.

Score.

Free tea.

Throughout the years I’ve worked here, I’ve met and gone through so many boba girls/guys that open. I sit at my table with my laptop typing away as I wait for them to officially open, order my tea and sit back down.

I keep to myself, for the most part. Well, besides Cat, I usually keep to myself.

I’m friendly to them and I hope that I wasn’t much of an inconvenience to them.

They’re my fixer.

It’s a nice relationship.

I do wonder what they all think of me. All these random people that I’ve met. I wonder if they let me do it because Rei told me that I’m okay or if they are just chill with me sitting in here before it opens.

I wonder.

Whatever they think of me, I’m glad that they allow me to do it.

I’m happy that they let me do it.

Stress.

It comes and goes.

Different projects.

Different phases.

I’m at a good spot right now. Not too stressed. Not too relaxed either.

It’s waiting. Waiting and anticipating what’s coming next.

One project should be winding down soon as another just took off.

The problem with the database project, I don’t know what is to come of it.

I think I have everything, but I don’t know.

I don’t know.

I know it is something that’s been necessary for work for such a long time and if it functions how I think it is going to function, it’ll help with work and efficiencies.

It’ll make many people’s jobs easier.

The downside, it’ll also make people obsolete.

Automation.

Good and bad.

There’s always a catch.

Once the database is set and functioning the way it is supposed to, the next step or phase of the project is setting up the reports.

Automation.

Reports.

There will be many many workshop sessions with the different team to get an understanding of how their reporting works.

Fun times.

I’m looking forward to it. It’ll be different work for once.

But holy fuck me man, that’s a lot of responsibility and there’s so much shit coming down the pipeline and I’m sure there are others that I’m not anticipating.

I can only do so much.

I should take more breaks.

Fuck it.

I need it.

Work life balance.

I need a peace of mind.

I deserve it.

I fucking deserve it.

Treat yo’ self.

I’m craving tacos.

I can’t stop thinking about tacos.

Mexican food.

Been working a lot of overtime over the weekend, why the fucking hell not.

Need to feed my cravings.

TACOS!

Break.

Breaks.

Things I want to do or plan.

I know I want a trip after finishing up the database.

Would it be too close to the Spain trip?

I don’t know.

I still need to book tickets for the attractions. The least I can do while my bro is planning everything. I’m not worried about the money, he’s good a paying me back.

Trips.

I also want to go to Dialogue again. A treat to myself for finishing phase one of the database project.

That project has been a fucking year and a half of my life.

I can’t believe that it’s finally over and there’ll be something substantial to show for it.

I can’t wait for it to be over.

It’ll be done and done.

Decisions.

Work.

I make a lot of business decisions at work. I make many that affect the agency and different departments.

I make them.

I consult with Benjo and others, but I’m the one that makes them.

That’s a lot of responsibility.

I don’t know when this all happened, but here I am.

I never figured to be such an integral part of the agency.

I never figured to be so involved in the agency.

Times were simpler back in the day when all that mattered and all that I should be focus on was helping end users with their issues.

Times were so much simpler back then.;

I didn’t need to make big decisions.

I wasn’t involved in big projects.

I just show up, answer tickets and calls and people’s request to fix things.

Simple.

Now, I do all of that on top of everything else I do.

These past few years, I’ve never been in so many meetings. I never learned so much about advertising. Media.

I learned a lot.

So much.

So fucking much.

I need a break.

I need another one.

I know that I got back from one less than a month ago, but it’s time.

I need another hiking one. I need to do more hiking.

I need more nature in my life.

I need to figure out where to go.

Where haven’t I gone?

Should I go back to someplace I’ve been before or someplace new?

Decisions.

Decisions.

In the meantime, I need to keep my sanity just a little longer.

Just a smidge.

There’s light.

I see the light.

I found it funny that Cyndi saw the light at the end of this project too.

Almost done.

Almost.

Can’t wait.

I will be fine.

I know I will.

I have faith.

I’m good.

I’m.

Good.

Break.

A mental break.

It happened.

I planned and I went and overall, it was a good little getaway.

I didn’t get as much nature as I want, but I got a little something and, in the end, that’s all that mattered.

I honestly didn’t know what I was expecting on the trip, but it was serviceable.

Serviceable indeed.

It was a little good mixture of gluttony and city dwelling along with the nature that I needed.

The drive out to Vegas was whatever and I went straight to the Red Rock National Conservation Area.

I didn’t really know what I was expecting besides the little 13-mile one-way drive.

There were many places to hike and things that I’m sure I would have been interested in doing if it wasn’t for the fucking heat. I wasn’t prepared for the fucking heat.

It was ridiculous.

Fucking ridiculous.

High 90s.

Fuck that.

I only did a few miles that day. Small. Short.

Short short.

A mile or two here.

Another mile or two.

There was no way to possibly do my usual 10+ miles. No way at all.

I gave up that idea after the first short hike. Too hot and I got a wicked headache.

Did I get dehydrated so fast?

I probably did.

Sucker.

Definitely, a place to go back to during colder times.

Winter?

Fall?

Possibly.

Who knows?

After the trip, I went straight back to the hotel.

Headache.

It pounded.

I showered and took a quick nap as I settled into the luxury Howard Johnson near the strip.

I didn’t give a fuck. I didn’t need the luxury of staying at a casino resort. I wasn’t going to pay no resort fee either.;

I just needed a bed to sleep in since I wasn’t anticipating being in the hotel that long anyway.

I’m out early in the morning and come back after three. No need to get the luxury room.

I live simply.

I live frugally.

I’m cheap.

Unlike most trips, I made plans for that night.

I got a ticket to the Seinfeld show.

I love stand up, why the hell not. It’s fucking Seinfeld.

I had dinner at Momofuku in The Cosmopolitan first.

My first time at any David Chang joint.

It was good. So fucking good.

I had the pork chop and I rarely order pork chops. Usually bad, but this was fucking amazing.

So juicy.

So much flavor.

The pork belly bao was good. What I expected it to be. I wished it was a little more braised pork belly like khao nguoc, but no one does that. People like the grilled/roasted taste and it’s easier to make than the braised pork belly.

The ginger scallion noodles were pretty fucking good too.

Overall, good meal.

Would do again.

The show.

Amazing.

I love stand up comedy.

I don’t make it out to any shows here, but when I’m out and traveling and it’s an option, I’d do it.

Seinfeld.

A master at his craft.

He was great.

Funny.

I was laughing the whole time.

That’s all that one can ask for at a show. To have good laughs.

Genius.

Loved it.

Genius.

Bright and early.

I left for Grand Canyon West the next morning.

Like my first day, I didn’t know what to expect.

I didn’t buy tickets in advanced because I didn’t know what I was doing.

I did what I planned in my head.

I explored what this little area had to offer and I had a good day.

Most everything there was a cash trap. You have to spend money to do the most interesting things and I don’t blame them.

The Native Americans that run the lands got fucked over, and I get it.

I paid my money to do what I wanted and didn’t think too much about it.

The only real thing that I was disappointed about was that I can’t take photographs on the Skywalk.

I understand their stance, but I think it’s a bullshit stance. They just wanted people to pay for their own pictures.

The Skywalk was all right. You are out over the canyon. It was high, but not the highest place to the bottom of the canyon.

It’s funny to see so many people scared of standing on the glass, so high up.

I had no problems.

Faith.

I had faith in the glass.

It’ll hold. I didn’t have any problems with that. I don’t have problems with heights.

The second stop of the area was the most beautiful area. This was the area that seems to have any “hiking” or exploring also.

I spent the most time here, chilling. I enjoyed the views.

I climbed over the ridge.

I peered down the canyon and I enjoyed the scenery.

I watched as helicopter after helicopter fly over or descend into the canyon.

So small.

Pea sized.

I’ve been to the Grand Canyon three times prior. Still my brain can’t fathom the sheer size of the canyon.

It’s massive.

We are small.

We are insignificant.

The earth is such a wondrous place.

The third and last stop was the ranch.

I didn’t know what to expect. I really didn’t.

It was setup as an old cowboy era small town. Facades made up store fronts.

There really wasn’t much of anything “ranch like”.

No cows.

No farms.

There were your mechanical bull rides and little pony and horse rides and quick games, and an arcade carnival shoot out thing.

Small.

Quaint.

This is where the zip lining was.

I did it.

My first time.

Overall impressions. Fun.

Not scary at all.

I guess after skydiving, not much is scary, right?

Next up?

Bungee jumping.

Again, I didn’t know what to expect from anything on this trip.

Very minimal research went into everything.

I know there was zip lining and so I did it.

I got to do it twice! I thought it’ll just be one zip line, but there were two.

The second line was the best. It was the longest and the fastest.

It was money, but hey, when on vacation, spend without care.

Spend away.

It was a good experience and overall, the little trip to see a new side of the Canyon was worth the short drive and the tourist feed.

Will I do it again, probably not.

But that’s the thing about exploring and doing. You must see it first before you make any other judgments about it.

Now I know.

There wasn’t much to do after that. It was still early in the day, just after noon, but I decided to drive back.

It’ll take a few hours and I planned on stopping at the Hoover Dam on the way back.

The Hoover Dam is huge. I didn’t venture much there.

I wanted to check out the Visitor Center, but it cost money just to go in. There was a tour that I could have taken, but I was like, nah. The idea that I had to pay money to go into the visitor center kind of turned me off.

I walked to the other side and then walked back. That’s all I did.

Then I walked the memorial bridge overlooking the dam.

That was my day.

Back to the hotel.

Shower. Nap.

Dinner.

Before the trip I did some research on some of the best restaurants and I settled on Partage, a French restaurant in the middle of a stirp mall in Chinatown.

Overall, I was impressed. I thought the food was really good.

I did the 9-course tasting menu without the wine paring. That was another 90 bucks, I think. Too much. I only had 2 glasses of wine and it was about a quarter of that.

There were some great dishes, like the first cold dish, a cantaloupe soup. That was interesting.

I never had something like that.

After dinner, I thought about walking back to the hotel, but was like fuck it. 3.1 miles. Fuck it.

Lyft it is.

Sunday.

My last full day.

Valley of Fire.

I didn’t know what I was going to expect when I decided to go. I did some research and saw this State Park and Vallone recommended it to me and it definitely surprised me.

It was a pretty cool place. There seemed to be a lot of hiking there.

If only it wasn’t so fucking hot.

The views were gorgeous.

Fiery Red.

It was color upon color in the desert.

Valley of Fire was another one of those parks where you have to drive to different locations to see the sights and to access trails. It’s not the type where you can just park and get everywhere through the trails.

I guess in the heat, that’s a good thing.

It was hot. Thankfully there was a breeze, but hot hot heat indeed.

I got to the park close to 8:30 and I left around 12:30 and got a few hikes in.

They weren’t long, but at least it was something. That’s all that mattered. I got some hiking in.

I enjoyed the area.

I enjoyed the hikes.

I enjoyed what the park had to offer.

I would love to go back during the winter or when it’s cooler so I can explore it more.

The best hike I did that day was the Fire Walk. It was an easy flat hike out to the wave.

Need to go back.

Definitely.

The painted walls hike was pretty good too. There were so many petroglyphs on these rocks.

So so many.

To be in another time.

What was life like back then?

Different times.

Different times.

I left a little past 12:30 or maybe 1:30.

It got too hot to hike. It got too hot to be outside, in the sun.

I left.

I thought about exploring Lake Mead and find some hikes, but I didn’t take any of the turns that lead into Lake Mead.

I drove the perimeter, the long way back to my hotel.

It was an interesting drive with great views.

Those are the best type of drives. I didn’t know what to expect. I wasn’t expecting much, but it kept me entertained.

Lake Mead was dry. The level was low.

I got back to the hotel, showered, and nap, like usual.

Dinner.

Bacchanal.

I couldn’t decide if I was going to do Wicked Spoon or Bacchanal. I decided on Bacchanal because I never had dinner there, only brunch.

Dinner.

Bacchanal.

It was gluttonous and it was fucking great.

No wonder it’s the best buffet in Vegas.

Too much food. So many options.

I did not eat my money’s worth. It’s expensive. $77 or something.

I over did it.

Fucking dying.

I walked back to the hotel and man; I was just dying.

Ate too much. I always have that problem.

Was it worth it? Possibly, but man, did I feel like shit after wards.

I still had hope of getting brunch at Wicked Spoon before I leave Vegas, but was like, yeah, no. I can’t.

I can’t.

I thought about going to Hooters Casino next door to grab a nightcap, but was like, nope. I can’t.

I can’t.

That’s it.

That’s the trip.

I drove home early the next morning.

Besides some traffic, it was uneventful.

A short break.

A long weekend.

A getaway to clear my mind and soothe my soul.

I reprieve from the stress of work.

I needed it.

I’ll need another one soon.

I can feel it.

Here’s to more.

Here’s to me.

Here’s to my health.

Here’s to my sanity.

Mental Health Breaks.

Do it.