The first day of the long break found Yvette and I getting some much-needed sleep. It was weird not being awoken by Alaya on a weekend. When I got out of bed, I decided to make biscuits and gravy.

It was time to make tamales. Yvette took off to her parents’ place while I cleaned up the kitchen and got myself ready. This was the third year that I’ve helped make tamales with her family. When I got there, they had pretty much finished, but I was able to help with about two dozen. The finished product was so damn tasty.

After the work was done, we all sat down and watched the Texas A&M vs. Miami game. The game was 0–0 at half. It was a boring-ass game… until it wasn’t. The first points came from field goals—3–3. These teams decided to make moves during the fourth quarter. The Aggies made some serious mistakes toward the end of the game, including one fatal mistake while trying to tie it up. They threw what should have been a touchdown but instead ended up with an interception, winning the game for Miami. Terrible. Damn Aggies.

Christmas farm. So Yvette and I brought the little girl out to a farm on the outskirts of town. They had cocoa, cookies, Santa, and ponies. We really wanted to see if Alaya would ride the ponies, and to our delight, she did—with a smile. It was great and worth the almost hour-long wait.

After the pony ride, we got on a hayride dragged along by a tractor. She seemed entertained, and that’s what mattered. I know she likely won’t remember it, but Yvette and I will.

Sunday morning, Yvette was not happy when I awoke. Damn mothers and daughters. I swear it changes the mood in the whole house.

I made breakfast, took a walk, ran errands, and bullshitted around. We had the baby again. It was a good day.

Monday, we made a final stocking-stuffer run to a few stores. I went up into the attic to find one missing stocking, and while I was up there, I pulled down another Christmas tree. I thought the living room could use a little more light. I think it looked great.

Taking advantage of the day, I took Hazel for another walk. I feel like she deserves it. This sweet girl is ten years old. She isn’t the beast on a leash that she once was. All the pull has left her, which makes for a relaxed walking experience—yet it’s also rather sad. We all get old. Ten years ago, I also had a lot more pull in me.

That afternoon. I met my dear friend Art at the bar he was working. I ran into some old faces I hadn’t seen in a long time. These were my happy hour crew from the darker days of my life. A handful of older folk that accepted my youth with open arms. It was good catching up and laughing my ass off with them again.

That evening Yvette and I went to eat with my mom. We had some drinks and good laughs. My mom was spending Christmas in the Houston area so I wasn’t going to see her again until after the holiday. It’s rather sad not having her around on Christmas Day, but I’ll have Yvette’s family and they are great.

Tuesday, I assembled my new grill. It didn’t take all that long once I figured out how to read the instructions. Deciphering instructions can initially be a real bitch. I only had one goof-up that was easily fixed. I was excited to try this thing out, but I needed materials first.

Christmas Eve, I slept in at my mom’s while Yvette got up early to get her hair done. We weren’t supposed to be going to church until three, but around eleven I found out that Lola had changed the plans, and now we were going at one. What the hell!!!

I got dressed and finally made an executive decision on what to get my in-laws from the both of us: a gift card to a new steakhouse in town. That could be a good night out for the two of them. I want them to enjoy themselves alone for a change. They do so much cooking for everybody—they deserve a break.

Back at the house, I quickly cut my hair and got dressed for church. This is such a weird church experience compared to what I grew up with. I swear, it’s like a fucking rock concert. So weird, but enjoyable enough. It’s only once a year, and I like sharing this single church event with the family.

Afterward, Yvette and I went to visit her grandparents. Grandfather had recently taken a fall—recently as in the day before. Poor guy. He was lucid but looked pretty banged up. I can relate; I’ve fallen a few times myself. You look worse for the wear. He was tired of people looking at him.

That night it was time for Die Hard. I snuck it in early before everyone wanted the “real” Christmas movies. It’s been a Christmas Eve tradition for my brother and me for years, so I figured, why the hell not. We also made Christmas cookies. I must say, it was different having a family in the house on Christmas Eve. I’d never experienced that before.

It was one of the best Christmas Eves I’ve had in years. It’s been a long time since I’ve ended my evening with people instead of alone. My heart was warm with joy.

Christmas morning, we were all out of bed by 8:30 to open presents. It was fun watching the little ones rip apart the paper with a senseless sort of joy. All the kids knew what they were getting, but even then, the spirit was in the air and everyone was happy. I wish I could have gotten them more, but going in with Yvette allowed us to buy bigger-ticket gifts.

Guamanian BBQ pork, chicken, cucumber salad, wasabi crab salad, and red rice. Late lunch was at my brother-in-law’s house. It was a real feast and different for me. I was happy to have something with a real kick to it. The crab salad was something special—unlike anything I’d ever thought crab could taste like.

What made this Christmas feel unlike Christmas was the damn temperature being 80 degrees and the AC kicking on. Everyone made note of it.

I guess we spent about four hours over at RJ’s house. The entire damn day flew by far too fast. How the hell does that happen? I guess it means we were all enjoying each other.

Yvette got me Neil Young’s Tonight’s the Night 50th Anniversary Edition. It was the album in full, unlike how it had ever been released before. It had been teased since before I was born. My dad would listen to this album when I was a baby in the crib. I know I can’t recall those days.

On a trip to Austin when I was young, we stopped by a music store. My dad picked up some albums on CD that he only had on vinyl—CDs were the rage in the ’90s. One of the albums he grabbed was Tonight’s the Night. In the car ride home, he put it on. When I heard the opening bass line, a sense of familiarity washed over me. I got goosebumps. Later, my father told me we used to listen to this together when I was a baby.

I was excited to play this version of the album featuring tracks that got cut due to time. My dad always told me the album was recorded live in the studio in one night. Later, I read about it and wanted the uncut version he spoke of. Thirty-plus years later, I finally have it.

I knew hearing the album for the first time since my father passed eight years ago would affect me. I didn’t know I’d start sobbing like a baby. I know the original cuts like I know my own face in the mirror, but the additional tracks felt familiar and not at all out of place. This was the definitive version I was hearing for the first time. Thank you, Yvette, for getting it for me. I only wish my dad were here to hear it with me. I love him. I miss him.

Christmas night, Yvette and I had Alaya again and took her with us to watch my mother’s dogs. We watched a Christmas movie—Office Christmas Party. It was funny, but not great. Alaya was just having a blast with my mother’s dog, Boa. She loves him and follows him around.

It was a damn good Christmas. I did miss my side of the family, but I was lucky to have Yvette’s family there. It’s good to spend the day with those you love and who love you back. Merry Christmas!!

Friday, Yvette and I just relaxed on the couch and didn’t leave my mother’s house until after three in the afternoon. We watched some “Hallmark”-quality Christmas movies, and later I put on Wake Up Dead Man. We lost track of time, and I rushed home to throw a rack of ribs in the oven for dinner.

During the three hours the ribs cooked, I ran some errands and did a little grocery shopping. Yvette’s aunts came over with some Christmas gifts. Once the ribs were done, we dove in and ate like pigs.

Saturday, we lounged again at my mother’s before she got home with the nephews. It was a warm 80 degrees outside, so we went out for a little patio lunch. How often does one get that chance on December 27th? Take advantage of the unseasonably warm weather.

My mom got back into town with my oldest nephews. I was excited to see them, and we all went out to dinner at Lakehouse Pizzeria. All the family was there except Lola and Alaya, sadly. It was a great time—and the food. Chef’s kiss.

That night was quiet. I watched an episode of Stranger Things and had some spiked hot chocolate. Relaxed. The house was quiet without the little girl. Too quiet.

The next day, I went to meet everyone over at the in-laws’. What a treat it was: steak and baked potato. This was what we were originally going to have for Christmas dinner, so I was excited to finally be having it. Everything turned out great.

After lunch, I got baby Niles’s Christmas present out of the back of my car and watched Noah and his friend put the car together. I was laughing because they didn’t bother to read the instructions, and after they finished, they wondered why so many screws were left. Hilarious.

I went out to see my nephews and visited for a little while. It was nice and warm when I went into my mother’s house and cold and windy when I walked out the door. Lord, does the weather ever change in Texas.

We had a shrimp boil that night. Yvette and I did the shopping, and Noah came over and did the cooking. Lola came home with the baby, so it was a nice full house—full of family. Two babies playing. Lots of laughs.

The cold front finally made its arrival while the shrimp and pot were cooking. Of course it did. The wind picked up something fierce, but it didn’t stop us. When it was finally time to eat, we stuffed our faces. Shrimp, sausage, potatoes, corn, and delicious mushrooms. The mushrooms soak up so much flavor. It was a wonderful night.

Monday, that cold son of a bitch had dug in like an Alabama tick. It was overcast and freezing—I mean that. While I was out running errands, I had little balls of ice bouncing off my windshield. Just light sleet. It was supposed to snow, but it never happened. Sad, because I had my nephews all hyped up for it. Them being from Houston, they don’t see snow very often.

By Tuesday, the sun was back out and it had warmed up nicely. I spent the day doing things around the house and eventually chased a squirrel up into the attic. In the process, I tripped over some of Lola’s crap in the garage, so I decided to clean out the attic above it to start putting things up there and out of the way.

The prior owners had left about ten boxes up there in a small space. I brought them down one by one and went through them—mostly old bank statements, tax forms, and transaction records. This guy kept everything. One box had more personal material inside: birth certificates for their kids, a wedding license, newspaper cutouts, just random shit. Did you know you could obtain a legal document that obligates the wife to excuse the husband from drinking and doing all sorts of crazy shit? Wild.

When I finally reached for the last box, three hours later, it wouldn’t budge. This one had more than paper in it. What I discovered was pottery—an entire set along with some mismatched pieces. They looked hand-painted. The newspaper they were wrapped in was from 1965. Had they been in the attic for sixty years? Holy shit.

What I discovered was that they were made by a woman named M. A. Hadley, a famous pottery artist born in 1921. She passed away in 1965. Was that why they were stored away in the attic—for safekeeping? Looking up the prices for modern sets, I already knew the brand was expensive. If these were original, what might they be worth?

After cleaning up, I went out to my mother’s to visit with the nephews again before they left in the morning. The time we have with others just doesn’t last as long as we want it to. I wish they could have stayed longer.

New Year’s Day started with a doctor’s appointment, followed by downtown exploring and Korean lunch. Yvette and I needed a lunch date. I was surprised we didn’t really go out to eat much during our time off.

The meal jacked my blood sugar up pretty high, so I decided to take Hazel for a little walk to try and lower it. Did the trick nicely. Hazel is enjoying the daddy-daughter time, and it’s good for both of us.

I had errands to run before the night’s festivities. I wasn’t entirely sure how many businesses would be open on New Year’s Day, so I ran around gathering what I’d need. When I got back home, I found Yvette asleep on the couch. I guess the queso for the night was on me to make, which I was happy to knock out.

That evening, we spent New Year’s at my in-laws’. We had pulled pork sandwiches, ribs, and potato salad. Roger made me a nice strong drink, and I was instantly relaxed. The Cotton Bowl was on TV, and Miami won against Ohio—a surprise. More drinks went down the gullet, and eventually we all sat around waiting for midnight. Everyone was tired, and it pained us to make it to the new year, but we endured.

Happy New Year!!! Goodbye 2025! Hello 2026!!!

New Year’s Day started off exactly as one might expect: a sink overflow in the bathroom at 6:50 a.m. I cleaned it and fed the dogs—no big deal. As I finished the chores, I stood in the kitchen watching the most beautiful sunrise I’d seen in a long time. The sky was full of pinks and purples as the fire in the east slowly rose. I was excited for the day. I was excited for the new year. It began as any does, but with a little bit of chaos. I think that’s okay.

That day, I decided it was time to season my new Blackstone. It took over two hours—heat, apply seasoning, wait fifteen minutes, start all over again, times five. I enjoyed it. It was like a long tutorial session. I sat outside, read my book, and tended to the grill. When I finished, I felt good. We grilled that night.

I cooked breakfast outside the next morning and basically just chilled until 1:30, when I took Hazel for a walk. We’re enjoying our walks on these nice days. Afterward, I went hunting for sheep. I found three—and a few squirrels, too. I drove around the lake and through areas I hadn’t been in years. It’s amazing how quickly things change. I felt nostalgia out the ass..

Saturday, Yvette and Tee took off to Fort Worth to look at a truck, which they did end up buying—awesome. I slept in. That drive there and back kills my back, so I made a pass on the journey.

Once out of bed, I needed to clean the shower tiles. I hate cleaning tile—it’s a real pain in the ass. After that bullshit was knocked out, I ran some errands around town and took my merry ass time.

I had the urge for Chinese food and decided to hit up a joint I hadn’t been to since 2016: Wok n Rice. Damn the luck—they were closed for the holidays. I made the drive to the north side for nothing. Or did I…

Another place Yvette and I had meant to try last holiday break was right around the corner, so I figured, why the hell not. It wasn’t Chinese, but Thai-Japanese fusion. I ordered the chicken katsu, which I only knew about from pictures that had haunted me on Facebook for over a year.

The place itself was small and nothing fancy. Honestly, that’s exactly what I want when walking into a place I haven’t been to yet. The staff was super quick and nice, and the food was mind-blowing. I wasn’t expecting the complimentary soup and salad like you get at hibachi grills. I feel safe bringing Yvette next time, having tried it for myself.

While on that side of town, I decided to visit my grandparents’ grave. It had been way too long, and I couldn’t really tell you why. I wasn’t even sure I could find the site without wandering, but my memory served me better than expected—it only took a couple of minutes.

Looking at the grave, I decided it needed flowers. I was utterly unprepared. I promptly left and drove across town to get some to lay on the grave. As I made my way back, I felt a peace wash over me. Maybe I needed to do this.

I took a little walk through the cemetery and once again realized how peaceful a cemetery actually is. Relaxing. Not sad at all. Communing with the deceased should be peaceful. I was happy with my impromptu decision to visit them.

Sunday, we took down all of Christmas. I finished Welcome to Derry, and Yvette and I watched Alaya. It was the end of our little holiday. I guess it had to end.

Until next time.
Cheers, 2026!!

Breakfast photos from the holiday, because why not.

Jalapeño.

Fish tacos.

Pork potsticker stir-fry.

Pork tenderloin fajita bowl.

Chicken spaghetti.

Spicy chicken tamales with queso and beans.

Slow cooked pork spare ribs, jalapeño cheese sausage, slaw and potato salad.

Shrimp broil.

Chicken Parmesan.

Deer chili.

Hamachi.

Grilled orange glazed pork.

Grilled chicken Gorgonzola gnocchi.

Tacos.

Saturday was warm and full of labor. I had a backyard I didn’t want to clean up. Damn acorns and leaves. I was not happy about the work, but damn if it wasn’t necessary. Five bags later—damn filthy mess.

That evening it was Yvette, Alaya, and me, so I decided to do some real cooking. Some date-night shit Yvette had been craving: chimichurri steak and shrimp. It was a fun evening, and I enjoyed the cooking. It felt very leisurely, and Alaya is a doll to babysit.

I wondered while sitting with her if this is maybe how my grandparents felt when they had me. Was it just an unexplainable amount of joy? Was I as good with them as she is with us? It’s things like that I never knew I needed in my life. Love this little girl.

Sunday, I cooked breakfast and asked my friend Samuel if I could borrow his truck to go pick up a pre-assembled Blackstone grill from Academy. He said sure and left me the keys. Free assembly—why not? All I needed was a truck, and I was in luck.

When I got to Academy and pulled into the pickup location, I clicked the link to inform them that I was ready, only to be told that my order had already been picked up. Well, this wasn’t true. Clearly.

Stepping out into the cold—and it was cold (38 degrees)—I walked into the store to find out what the hell the deal was. What I discovered was a little incompetence and confusion within the store. The manager seemed concerned, and no one seemed to have the slightest idea what happened to my grill. They offered me one that was packaged, or I could wait around for an hour or so for someone to assemble it. I just accepted the packaged grill. I’m sure I can figure it out.

What struck me as odd was that they never once asked me for proof of purchase or ID. Not once. They even asked me what size grill I had purchased. I told them the 28″. Could I have told them the larger model and they would have given me that? I kind of think so. They told me to pull around and they would load me up. The guys, once again, never asked for proof of purchase when loading me up. I could have been anybody. Crazy.

So, what happened to the grill that was assembled? What a question. I guess I don’t care. Assembling the grill should give me something to do when I’m off work, and Lord knows I will need something to do for two weeks.

It was lunchtime by the time I was done with Academy. Yvette, Alaya, and I braved the cold to head to her parents’ for some warm food. I’m not exactly sure what the meal was, but it was delicious—almost like a ground beef guiso.

Eventually Lola came for the girl and departed before Alaya even woke up to eat and play with her cousin Niles. I think everyone was a little irritated by this. It was very clear. I get it—they like to see the little ones and didn’t get their time with her.

The remainder of the day was spent running Sunday errands as usual. I had some chicken and dumplings in the slow cooker, so dinner was a breeze. Where did the damn weekend go? Fuck, if they don’t just fly right on by.

Our last Monday before winter break was a dreadfully slow, cold, gloomy day. I woke up feeling kind of icky and took meds that left me a bit foggy, so I zoned out often. I had more coffee than a man needs to function, and yet I was still like a goddamn zombie.

The last staff senate meeting was that afternoon, and it was short and sweet. It’s really not that bad. I know I bitch about it. I think some of the enforced attendance rules are a little much, that my fellow senators take their duties way too seriously and should just have fun, and that it doesn’t seem to accomplish a damn thing. But it gets me out of the office at times, and I do get to visit with people I mostly like. I also get some inside info before the rest of the campus hears announcements. Maybe I’ve been doing it for too long. I fear that might be it. Maybe I should take a break and decline the next time I’m asked to join.

Tuesday was rather steady. That morning, I went and got Yvette and myself some breakfast tacos. I had some good coupons that allowed one free with purchase. It was a nice start to the day, and I sure needed it after our long evening. You see, we had the baby again. It’s hard being a parent—ha ha.

Throughout the day, I had four cups of coffee. I somehow managed to outdrink the amount I had the day prior. I was a little wired mess, but it worked out well. It helped get the damn day done.

After work, I ran more errands, and that evening we headed to Yvette’s parents’ for dinner. They made some caldo—damn good on another cold day.

While over at her parents’ I couldn’t help but think how I would never like those kinds of gatherings with my ex-wife. I really like Yvette’s family, and I look forward to the moments we spend together. It’s a great feeling.

Wednesday was basically a damn repeat, but with less coffee and fewer people.

Thursday I started wearing my Santa hat and passing out candy canes across the campus. I learned from last year to start the day before our last day before break because so many people take that day off. Like we really need an extra day off when we are being given two full weeks holiday leave.

It’s funny to me how excited people get when I hand out a candy cane. Maybe it’s the act alone that makes people happy and not the cane itself. I don’t know. It’s a tradition that I plan to keep because everyone needs a little holiday cheer. It’s a simple thing, really, but it makes people smile.

Retirement parties—two in one day. It’s that time of year. One of the guys who happened to be on my side of campus was retiring, and they had a little party for him. It was strange to me because he had only been there for eight years. Old Randy “Long Wind” Young. I felt like he had always been on campus, and it really hit me that I’ve been around six years longer than he has. How in the fuck is that even possible? Dear Lord, have I made this a profession? Maybe it’s time I jumped ship?

Again, I digress. Randy was a guy I did like, and I will miss his presence. He could also be a monumental pain in the ass. The guy had the nickname “Long Wind” for a reason. He could talk and talk and talk about the most ridiculous bullshit. Your ears would hurt. God forbid you ever got stuck in a vehicle with the man. If you wanted to hear Trump praise and conspiracy theories, you’d be in luck. That’s a real hell right there.

In spite of all that, he was a good guy. A damn good heart. A rather jolly fat man who now has enough gray in his beard to probably pass as Santa this time of year. I’ve had a good time working with him over the years and am sad to see him go. He was always there for a good laugh, no matter how ridiculous it might be.

After work, Yvette and I ran a few errands and prepared for dinner. We didn’t really have anything planned, but Noah was going to come over and eat because Nadia was at a Christmas party. This meant we picked up some random food for the boys while Yvette and I just made whatever. It was good seeing him and little Niles.

Friday, Yvette and I snagged a free beanie early in the cold. It was National Ugly Sweater Day, and if you showed up in a sweater—or at least looking holiday festive—you got a campus beanie. Limited supplies, hence getting there early in the cold. After that, she was sent home, and I spent the rest of the day handing out more candy canes across campus to the few stragglers. It was a very uneventful day.

Happy Friday!!!

Jalapeño

Chimichurri steak and shrimp.

Chicken and dumplings.

Venison chili w/ cornbread.

Sweet and sour pork.

Teriyaki chicken stir-fry.

Pork ribeye with raspberry chipotle sauce, roasted potatoes and broccolini.

The weekend started off with me making us breakfast while Yvette ran off to meet with Alaya and her dad to make Christmas ornaments. They made little molds of her prints. I slaved in the kitchen and made some delightful sausage gravy and biscuits.

While Yvette was gone, I cut my hair, read my book, and started laundry before we left town for a little anniversary trip. I wanted to kill my dogs, but I refrained from doing so. They broke a pot my mom let me borrow. Fuckers.

Once Yvette got back, we went to the grand opening of a coffee joint in town for a free coffee. I passed—already two coffees deep—but she got herself and Teegan one.

Once I got her back to the house, it was time to run around town looking for stocking stuffers and some other secret stuff. The day was busy. I had to make sure I knocked out most of the weekend in one day since we’d be leaving town Sunday morning.

That night I was set to make venison burgers. This was a first for me. After looking at many recipes, I found some ideas. Of course, I needed to add some lean beef, but most suggested adding butter to the mix. I seasoned them the way I would any other burger: salt, pepper, garlic, and Worcestershire. I added the butter as suggested. It was supposed to help bind the meat and add a little extra flavor. I was pretty excited—nothing special for the first try, just basic flavor with basic toppings.

The entire family, sans Lola who was MIA, came for burgers. I wasn’t expecting the in-laws, so I felt some anxious pressure making a meal for everyone for the first time. I like my meals to be tried and true before making them for people. I started grilling and felt some confidence in front of the flame.

The burgers turned out really good, but they were big. No one except Teegan was still hungry for seconds. I received compliments and some inquiries about how I prepared them. I guess I wasn’t the only one who had never had venison burgers. This made me happy.

Sunday was our one-year anniversary. Hard to believe a year has already passed. God, I remember the frantic last-minute bullshit I was dealing with the year before. It was raining, and our venue was being a total bitch. Life, of course. But looking back now, what felt stressful at the time only adds to the great memories I have.

To be married for a year—I’m such a lucky guy. I really don’t understand how I became this lucky, especially later in life.

The most amazing thing is how much my love for Yvette has grown over this past year. Living together means we know each other better now. Irritating things, sure—but also the little, cute things that still surprise us. Both are part of the bond. I know I irritate the hell out of her some days. She didn’t quite understand my OCD until she was living with me.

We were both excited for this little trip—just the two of us. We promised we wouldn’t get each other gifts, but of course we did. So we exchanged them. I made a little breakfast.

We took our time getting ready for the road. Hotel check-in wasn’t until 3, so there was no rush, and the drive was only about two hours. I got gas and some drinks and snacks to bring with us. It’s cheaper to come prepared. We put the house in order so Teegan would have easy sailing, and then we hit the road.

The drive was really nice.

Arriving a little before check-in, we stopped for a late lunch at one of my favorite places, Auslanders—a great little German joint that has some of the best Jägerschnitzel one can find. Great beers to boot. We also discovered that they have beer-battered mushrooms that are to die for. Holy shit, those were good.

Check-in time. The hotel was nicer than the pictures made it out to be. Yvette was impressed. I was impressed. This was above my class, ha-ha. I’m not accustomed to staying in such a fancy place. They had valet parking, one hell of a bar and restaurant, a real fireplace in the lobby, and room turnovers every evening. (The first night they left us chocolates, and the second night we came back to a chilled bottle of champagne with a card saying “Happy Anniversary.”)

After check-in we strolled the town for a little while before going to the square for the light countdown. They played Christmas music before counting down for one thousand lights to turn on. I think this was the moment the spirit of Christmas returned to me. I got misty-eyed during “Silent Night” and felt something for Christmas that had been missing for years. Sharing this moment with Yvette was special.

We walked down the street a few blocks to the Pioneer Museum where there was a singing Christmas tree. I wasn’t really sure what that meant and was intrigued. What we got was a literal singing Christmas tree—a ninety-person choir all standing inside this huge constructed tree decorated with all sorts of lights. It was truly amazing. I can’t overstate how amazing it was. The concert lasted an hour, and even though I was freezing my ass off, I didn’t once want to leave early.

After the singing tree, we walked to a local pizza joint for something a little more normal that we could split. The pizza was great, and so was the dinner. We were both elevated by the concert and floating in the clouds.

Next, we continued the fun with a stop at a German heavy-metal bar called Der Daiwel, which translates to “The Devil.” It was a fucking blast—red lights and metal everywhere.  Nothing one would expect in this little German community. 

The next day we woke up to a bummer of a surprise: a major water line had broken, and we had no hot water. The entire hotel. What can you do? They credited us $100 on the stay, which seemed fair for a cold shower on a morning in the thirties.  Actually, I basically made a hunred dollars to take a cold shower.  I’d do that again.

We walked to a place called Hill and Vine for lunch, where my mom had recently visited with some of her friends. Let’s just say the bacon-avocado-lettuce-and-tomato sandwich was mind-blowing.

After lunch, it was time for some shopping. Who doesn’t shop—or at least look around stores—while in Fredericksburg? It’s what everyone does, or what everyone’s wife drags their husband to do. Haha. However you frame it, it’s part of the experience. You look around shops. I actually rather like it in this setting.

Next was a trip to Fat Ass Winery just outside of town. I had been here before about ten years ago. My father was still alive then, and he was with us. My family. I do miss that man. It was special to return with Yvette, whom I know my father would have loved.

The place was pretty much the same. They had expanded the outdoor seating a bit, but that was about it. The wine was great. In the distance we could see the donkey, and I know he was looking at us. Jesus. The memories rolled in hard. That was the last trip taken with my father before his mental collapse. I was expecting a heavy hit, but I didn’t know how strong it would be until the pages started turning in my head. I loved going back to Fat Ass Winery.

We made a trip to H-E-B for some OJ and a little something sweet. We had champagne in the room that we planned to turn into mimosas. When we got back, another surprise awaited us: the beds were once again turned, but instead of chocolate we had a chilled bottle of unopened champagne with glasses and a note that said, “Happy Anniversary! —From the hotel team.”

We wandered back down to the square to look at the Christmas lights once again. Such a beautiful sight. On our walk back we stopped for dinner at the town brewery.  The bartender was a real rude bitch. I sampled a few beers and had the meatloaf. The place just happened to be right across the street from our hotel.  

Before heading up to the room, Yvette and I needed a professional drink. Her: an espresso martini. Me: an Old Fashioned. Goddamn the drinks were good—so damn good. Hers was scary good. Who needs a mimosa the morning after when you can have something like that? That concluded the night.

Check-out wasn’t until 12:30 on Tuesday. Sad day. We discussed staying another day but decided not to. Home was only two hours away. We still seriously considered it, but the hotel rates had increased like gas prices.

We said goodbye to the Albert Hotel with sad eyes. We wandered around town a bit more, but now we didn’t have a place to return to. They treated us well during our stay, and I really want to return. We will return.

We needed something to eat…. The Old German Bakery & Restaurant. I told myself I was done with fried food, but when I saw fried pickled okra on the appetizer menu, I had no choice but to order it. My god, it just made sense. I love both fried and pickled okra, so of course this was going to be a hit—and I wasn’t wrong. I’ve needed this my entire life. Sadly, we couldn’t bring the leftovers with us since we weren’t leaving yet.

We went back to the grounds of the singing tree to see what the structure looked like in daylight. It was impressive—a giant cage shaped like a tree. It must have been a tight fit for those choir members.

Next up were some art galleries. I had to see some of the art in Fredericksburg before we left. Both galleries were equally impressive: Insight and Good Art Company. They were right next door to each other. The lady at GAC was really nice. She took my email address and chatted with us for a bit. I wasn’t in the chattiest mood, but it was okay. I’m on the mailing list now.

We went to a couple of shops we planned on returning to for items. Yvette looked at some dresses, and I got some pickled eggs—which I won’t actually eat until Christmas because they’re a present. We didn’t want to leave the town, so we delayed the inevitable. Sad.

But our little anniversary trip wasn’t ending that quickly. A trip to Enchanted Rock State Park was going to happen. You bet your fucking ass it was! I used to go to Enchanted Rock all the damn time as a kid. The last time I had been was probably 2007 on a geology field trip in college—almost twenty years ago. Yvette had never been. I was excited.

The drive was nice and scenic, or so I was told. I had to pay attention to the road, which was basically shit—lots of curves, narrow, and all the fun stuff that makes you white-knuckle the steering wheel. We came around a bend and there was Enchanted Rock with a smoke plume billowing behind it. What an impressive sight that our phones couldn’t capture.

Inside the park, we paid for a day pass, which was really an hour pass for us. I wish you could get just an hour pass, but I understand. We found our way to the trails and hiked. I was excited to be back in familiar territory. Lots of memories.

Not really dressed for a hike, we tackled the summit anyway. Enchanted Rock is one giant volcanic granite dome. It is impressive. The Indigenous people believed it was haunted because of the sounds it made due to heat fluctuations.

We made it a pretty good way up. My sugar prevented us from going further. Still, it was a beautiful view and a good time. I was just happy that I managed to drag Yvette on a hiking trek with me. It was the cherry on top of a great trip.

Being so close to Llano, we decided to drive a little out of the way for some Cooper’s BBQ—pork loin, beef and pork ribs, BBQ sandwich, beans, slaw, and potato salad. The kids would eat on that. The rest of the drive was with the sun in our eyes and then utter dark. I hate both.

We eventually made it home with the sadness of the trip being over and the happiness of seeing the kids. We all ate our dinners, and we all had lots to talk about. It was a great reunion. As sad as I was to be home, I was also very happy to be home. I love this family, and I love Yvette.

Yvette and I still had one more day off, and we used it just relaxing around the house for the most part. The kids were all out, so it was quiet—just what we needed to wind down and reacclimate. We decided to see a movie called Eternity. It was a romantic comedy set in the afterlife—basically, what choice do you make once you’re dead and how do you want to spend eternity? A wife passes away to find both of her husbands waiting for her on the other side—one she lost 67 years ago and one just a few weeks prior, whom she had spent her entire life with and had kids with. Which one would she spend eternity with? It was really sweet and rather funny. I’m glad we went.

That evening I ran out to my mom’s to visit and talk about how great our little trip was. I wish it could have lasted longer, but Yvette and I had a nice long weekend out of it. It was a much-needed trip for both of us.

It’s weird going back to work on a Thursday for just a two-day workweek. I woke up easily enough, but Thursday sure felt like a Monday. I couldn’t even reach cruising speed before I was already pumping the brakes for the weekend. Work involved lots of catching up. I had one hell of an expense report to knock out—SOOO many damn transactions. It was amazing how much they hit me up the week before. It took me at least two full hours to complete it. I still had other things to catch up on.

We also had our damn Christmas party, which I had completely forgotten about. I had all good intentions of bringing a dish. Oh well. I really only attended the greeting/announcement portion of the party because the time it took place was while I was still manning the office during everyone else’s lunch. When I stopped back by before lunch, most of the goods were scraped clean. I snagged some brisket and went home to eat leftovers.

After work I started to head home and had the overwhelming feeling that I was forgetting something. I just could not shake it. When it finally dawned on me, I realized I had to turn around and head back to campus. It was my old geology professor’s, boss’s, and friend’s retirement party—Dr. Joe. I had five courses with him. He was an important figure in my completing my education. While taking courses with him, I became his TA. I did everything from setting up labs and assisting on field trips for his other classes to grading certain papers and quizzes.

My father was a geologist and worked in the sand and gravel industry scouting out future plants and running them, so I introduced them and set up field trips to some of his rock-crushing plants to give students ideas of what they could do with a geology background outside of the oil industry. I became part of the local Geologic Society thanks to Dr. Joe.

I will never forget our research trip to Big Bend National Park in the summer of 2008. We ate nothing but SPAM, cooked in various ways thanks to this spectacular SPAM cookbook he carried around on those trips. That summer we got a little lost on one of our expeditions. Near a mercury mine, off the beaten path, we went a little farther than we should have and nearly ran out of water. I hallucinated, thinking I was Frodo from The Lord of the Rings, trying to run up Mount Doom—only I was running toward the truck, desperate for water. I really thought we were doomed on that occasion.

Through the years working on campus, I’ve kept in touch with Dr. Joe, but not nearly as much as I wish I had. I passed on so many field trips he invited me to attend. I told myself at the time that I was busy, but thinking about it now, I really wasn’t that busy. I could have accompanied him on any number of trips. I wish I had.

Dr. Joe was the one who pushed for my father’s exhibit at the campus museum. My father had a collection of mammoth bones from his years in the field, and upon his death they were donated to the campus geology department. Dr. Joe made a tribute to my father that meant the world to my family. I will never forget how my heart felt when I heard about it—the feeling I had when I brought my nephews to see their grandfather’s exhibit. All thanks to Dr. Joe.

It makes me sad knowing I won’t be randomly running across him from time to time anymore. Everyone has that person they encounter in life who makes an impact on them, and Dr. Joe was one of those people for me. I was lucky in life to have encountered him in a planetary geology course that I took as a random elective. He will be missed.

Friday was the slowest day of the fucking week. Happy Friday!!

Jalapeño

Tamales.

Yvette’s lasagna.

Beef stroganoff.

Black Friday!

What did I do on Black Friday? Not a damn thing. I sure didn’t go shopping. I only made a simple, quiet trip to the store for groceries. I really didn’t need to be spending any money. I did a lot of laundry and stayed indoors. I was feeling the food hangover from Thanksgiving—those heavy carbs and massive blood sugar swings get me every time. I seem to forget this each year. I wonder why.

My household was sure partaking in the Black Friday shopping.  I just can’t handle the crowds, people are crazy.  I guess it worked out well enough for everyone because they did manage to find some pretty good deals on nice items.

That evening was the University of Texas and Texas A&M football game. BIG deal for some people. I hate them both. Teegan was really invested in his Aggies; I’m almost certain he’ll become one. The game was actually good and surprisingly so. I was sure A&M would walk away with the win—they were ranked high, while UT has had a horrible year. Well, had I bet on the match, I would have lost. The Aggies played horribly, the referees were awful, and UT had the best game of their season. Who the hell would have guessed?

On Saturday, we took the girl with us to see the Grinch, and boy oh boy, that didn’t go well. She was terrified of him, and we got some hilarious pictures out of it. I missed this last year, but she was too young then to be frightened. I guess the Grinch is a terrifying creature. When I was a kid, I don’t remember people dressing up as him for Christmas—it was always “take your kid to see Santa” back in those days. His popularity has skyrocketed.

Afterward, it was time to pick out the Christmas tree—a real Christmas tree. This was a special moment for me because it was the first time Yvette and I picked one out together. In the past, it was always a tradition between my mother and me. It was nice having Alaya along. She was having so much fun and helped Yvette and me find the perfect one. It was a kind of therapy for her after the whole Grinch ordeal.

Back home we put up the tree and tried to find all the lights. I had a rather odd, eclectic mix of them for some reason. I had two strands that matched, and I needed three more. Do you know how hard it is to find incandescent lights when everything has basically gone LED? I went to multiple places before I found what I needed. Walmart had them. The place was weird after dark—sketchy characters in the parking lot. I remembered why I don’t really like Walmart.

That night, Yvette and I watched a movie we had hoped to catch in the theater, but it didn’t stay long enough: Regretting You. It was the age-old sad story of love, betrayal, and what happens to a family broken by tragic loss and revealed secrets. I must say, it was entertaining. Movies like this are why some people don’t want relationships—the fear of betrayal.

Sunday, the rest of my family went home. Yvette, Alaya, and I went to her parents’ for some homemade chicken pot pie. It was a warm 40 degrees outside, so the weather was perfect for it. I was seriously impressed by the pot pie. I think my mother made one once and never again, claiming it was a total pain in the ass. I can see why.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with the three of us shopping all over town. We went to the mall, Walmart, Sam’s, H-E-B, and even stopped by Petco so Alaya could see some birds and fish. It was a good time, and she was a real trooper all day long.

Since it was finally soup weather, I made some chicken tortilla soup—one of my all-time favorite dishes. I couldn’t wait to have it. Sadly, Yvette’s kids do not eat soup if it’s called soup. I don’t really understand why they don’t consider soup to be a meal. Their loss.

The little holiday break came to an end. How terrible it is to return to work after five days off. I suppose it’s a lead-up to the extra-long Christmas break we have soon.

Surprisingly, I was able to jump into the work week with ease. I woke up at 6:30 and made breakfast. Work wasn’t hard to adjust to—well, not for me. My coworker, Tory, cried heavily. He came into the week thinking he was doing a certain job, only to find out that wasn’t what he was doing. It’s happened before; after last Christmas break he did the same thing. Cried. I have never worked with such a crybaby in my entire life. He proceeded to give me the silent treatment for the entire week. Would not even speak to me when spoken to. It’s one thing to see Alaya throw a fit—she’s eighteen months old. It’s another to see a fifty-eight-year-old man throw a tantrum like he’s eighteen months.

It was sad.

Back at work, I was busy purchasing from vendors across town—really busy, as I knew I would be after the holidays. Had Tory been doing my job, he probably would’ve been just as upset. Anyway, I was happy to be active. Day goes by quickly.

In my downtime, I made it a point to decorate the office with the few Christmas decorations we had—which weren’t much. They were sad little things, but it’s always fun to have them out for the spirit of it. The people who come into the office seem to appreciate them, at least. We have the Grinch, a Charlie Brown tree, and Caga Tió. I still need a Santa hat for the bear.

Tuesday we had the Christmas tree lighting on campus. After work, I met Yvette back on campus for the festivities. It’s a big bloody affair—bounce houses, train rides, activities galore. I was really only interested in the tree lighting because of tradition. I’ve attended every year they’ve had it since 2018. I actually first really met Yvette at the 2019 tree lighting. It was her first year working, and a group of campus folks got together for it. This is why it feels like a tradition.

Wednesday was more of the same. I didn’t have anything for breakfast, so I picked up a meal for Yvette and me around 7 a.m. At work, I was busy, busy. My coworker was still mute. Not sure why he’s pissy with me, to be honest. Oh well. I rather enjoyed the quiet. It’s better than him talking about eBay, estate sales, and bitching about various trivial bullshit all day long.

That night after dinner I had a new Christmas movie picked out to watch with Yvette. Oh. What. Fun. Michelle Pfeiffer!! I had a major crush on her growing up after her turn as Catwoman in Tim Burton’s Batman Returns. Who didn’t?

Anyway, this was a cute movie that basically points out how mothers are often unappreciated for all the extra things they do during the holidays. That’s a very brief summary. The family is also a damn mess, and they can’t seem to stand on their own without Mom—things just crumble apart.

We both liked the movie, and it was nice to see Pfeiffer in a film again.

Thursday the temperature dropped once again. It was cold and cloudy—like it should be this time of year. It really felt like Christmas was gearing up on campus. We had the President’s Christmas Party for our lunch. I’m glad we take lunch at one o’clock because it looked like most of the crowd had already cleared out.

Mostly it was fried foods, and that’s really not this diabetic’s cup of tea. I did get a sample of everything, just in case. It wasn’t until we reached the final table that we found the true golden ticket: pozole!!! They had it last year and it was fantastic. I made myself a cup, and then I made myself another. I have to say, I was rather stuffed by the time we finally left the party.

On Friday, I was the only one from my direct team at work. Troy was still upset and not talking, so he decided to take the day off. Honestly, I didn’t mind not having the grumpy mute around. His attitude needed to be checked, and I think we all had a better day without him there. It was busy, and I ended up doing everyone’s job.

After work, we went to Pancakes with Santa at the campus alumni center. I’d been told it was a packed, hectic event, but it really wasn’t that bad. We waited in line for pictures with Santa for maybe five minutes. The pancakes-and-sausage line was also pretty short. Yvette said they usually served breakfast sausage, but all they had were links this time, which don’t really go with pancakes.

The single pancake I had spiked my blood sugar to 250, and I ended up bouncing well above 300. Damn. That’s why I don’t do pancakes. Oh well—I’m still glad we went.

Happy Friday!!!

Jalapeño.

Homemade pizza.

Sesame chicken stir fry.

Chicken tortilla soup.

Jalapeño chicken stir-fry.

Pot roast with mushroom, carrots, potato and green beans.

Azteca steak. I was the last grilling night for a little while.

Chicken enchilada bowl.

Yellow chicken curry.

Saturday, I woke up and made some chorizo potatoes while Yvette was having her hair done and everyone else slept in. It was a nice, cool morning—still too damp outside for me to clean up after last week’s storm—so I decided to go shopping.  I’d rather cook a brisket.

I checked with Yvette, and we decided the whole family should come over. We were doing family photos around four o’clock, so it only made sense to have everyone over afterward. I grabbed the meat (btw, beef is fucking expensive these days), went home, applied a dry rub of my own concoction, wrapped it in foil, and put it in the oven to cook for a good six hours or more.

With the meat taken care of, I put away all the fall decorations so Christmas could take over. Nothing went up inside the house yet, but I knocked it out on the exterior—porch lights, my sad little tree, and my funny mesquite with lights. I was happy. I know Yvette wants more outdoor decorations, and maybe I’ll accommodate her later. For now, that was all I had in me.

We had family photos around four, just before sundown—the best time for light. I think the photo shoot went pretty well. I’m not entirely sure how good our photographer was, but I assumed some of the pictures would turn out. I had fun taking photos with the kids and grandkids. This was all very new to me. My first family photos since I was much younger, taking them with my brothers, mother, and father. It brought back some long-lost memories.

After pictures, we came home and finished cooking dinner: brisket, potato salad, beans, slaw, pasta salad, sausage, and deviled eggs—the works. Everyone came to grub around 6:30, and it was a fun evening of laughs. I even had leftovers.

Sunday was a perfectly gloomy morning, great for staying in bed a little later than usual. When I finally rolled out, I decided to make breakfast tacos using the leftover brisket—machacado. Brisket, sautéed onion and jalapeño, chopped tomato, eggs, and fresh cilantro. I still have my homemade hot sauce, so I applied it generously. Served with black beans. A damn tasty way to start the day.

Next up: coffee and Christmas decorations. I’d put them off for a day, and I figured getting them done would make everyone happy. I was surprised by how happy it made me feel. My grandmother’s ceramic tree really made me smile. I loved that damn thing growing up—forty years of memories gazing at that little tree.

After the decorations were up, I battled the acorns for the second weekend in a row while everyone else ran off to lunch at Yvette’s parents. Have I said how much I hate the goddamn things? It took at least an hour. I prayed that was the end of them for another year.

Oh yeah—Teegan got his first deer! A nine-point buck. He kept the skull to have mounted. Looks like we’ll be eating some venison. I could tell he was extremely excited about his first kill. I was happy for him. I’ve never been much of a hunter myself; I care about animals far too much to be entertained by the idea of killing one. That’s just me. I don’t judge those who hunt for meat. I do judge trophy hunters. Fuck those guys.

Sunday wound down like it always does—errands and preparation for the week. A short week, thank God. We did get some torrential rainfall—three inches and one loud bitch of a storm.

Monday, work was lame. I was tired from the storm. I did my job and filled in for some coworkers who had the week off. Had lunch with my mom since Yvette was participating in an interview. Helped Teegan boil the flesh off his deer head. Just another day.

Tuesday at work was dead. I mean dead as a doornail. Even fewer people from my team were there, and my boss was gone. I had to find things to keep me busy, and even that was difficult.

Yvette was lucky enough to get off work early—noon. Her boss told everyone to leave. Must be nice. I was stuck at work thinking about what I could be doing if I were off. I kept thinking about how exciting it would be to have my brothers in town. I was thinking about anything but being at work, watching the clock go tick tock, tick tock.

I had some damn diabetic issues all day long. Not with me, but with my devices. My fucking sensor kept malfunctioning, beeping, and driving me FUCKING insane all day. I had to resort to the old days of finger-pricking. Let me tell you—that hurts when your fingers are no longer calloused.

What I found out later was that it was reading the opposite side of the spectrum. It told me I was about to die while I was at H-E-B. I was shopping before dinner when my devices blew up. Yvette soon called because she had gotten the alert. I started to panic—not feeling low, but sometimes I just don’t know. I grabbed a Sprite and opened it right there in the store, drinking greedily. I paid out and went home. My sugar was actually high. I ripped that fucking device off my arm and proceeded to curse and replace it with a new one.

I hate being diabetic.

That evening, Yvette and I went to dinner with my mother, my brother, and his girlfriend. It was some nice adult time before the nephews arrived and all sorts of crazy ensued. It was also the only way we could avoid spending a small fortune. The kids don’t really eat much, but they still order full meals.

We got there first. I was still frustrated with my diabetic shit, and the place was fucking packed. I couldn’t hear the hostess, and she couldn’t hear me. I might have been a little rude. Honestly, I shouldn’t have been talking to anyone. I felt bad, but our 15-minute wait suddenly turned into a 45-minute wait, and I can’t help but feel that was her doing. We waited.

Once seated—with a nice little evil-eye glance from the hostess—it was mostly a nice evening. We of course ordered drinks. Something strong after that wait. My brother and his girlfriend had a little problem getting their drinks; I don’t think our waiter was all that great. But when everything finally aligned, it was great. We had a fun night at each other’s expense—mostly mine, for obvious reasons.

After dinner, Yvette and I drove around for a little while looking at Christmas lights. It’s amazing how early people put them up nowadays. My own yard has them up earlier than I ever have, so I’m one to talk. But at least it’s one less thing to worry about after Thanksgiving. It usually feels like a chore at that point.

We got home, and I initially got comfortable for the night. That was until I talked to my brother. He was going to the bar to meet some folks. I asked Yvette if she wanted to go, and we ended up heading out to Parrots Head. I saw some people I hadn’t seen in a long time, and we had a good time hanging out. We had shots and beer, and after watching a friend do karaoke, we took off. It was about two hours of good times, and I was really happy we went. We never do that, so it was impulsive—and worth it for the laughs alone. It was a damn good Tuesday night.

I will admit that Wednesday I was a bit exhausted when I first woke up. We had a large group of us going to see Wicked: For Good. Last year Yvette, my brother, my mother, and I all went to see the first one during Thanksgiving. This year, it was eight of us.

I had some issues upon arrival—a pounding headache. No one had anything for relief, so I went to my car to dig around. What I found was six pairs of sunglasses. Good lord, why?? I guess I unknowingly hoard them. I also realized I was dehydrated. I hadn’t had any water. And I was tired, without any caffeine. I was struggling. The struggle was real. I chugged a bottle of water.

I made it back to the theater just in time for the movie to start. I was excited—until my damn insulin pump began to bitch at me. It was expiring, because of course it was a good time for that. I did my best to ignore it, but it was relentless. At least I had the foresight to mute the bitch.

The movie was really good when I was able to focus. I had been surprised I liked the first one, so this one might not have been quite as magical an event, but I still really liked it—and the whole experience.

Thanksgiving! I slept in a little — and I needed it. When I finally got up, I found that Yvette had been busy making breakfast. Since lunch wasn’t until one o’clock, I figured, why not pig out?

I got ready pretty quickly, so while everyone else was making themselves look presentable, I decided to enjoy the nice day and take a walk around the neighborhood. While I walked, I ran into some great people — Uncle Dick and Aunt Cathy. They were on their way to Thanksgiving and recognized me as I was walking down the street. It was good seeing them, even if only briefly.

We had lunch at Yvette’s parents’ house. They put out the full Thanksgiving spread — damn good food, as usual. I realized this was my third Thanksgiving with her family, and it made me smile. We always take some family photos, and the 2023 picture was one of the first that Yvette made public.

I had some meal prepping to do between lunch and dinner. Back at the house, I made the deviled eggs and the “fresh” green bean casserole. The eggs are always a little bitch, so I knew what to expect with them. The green beans were new. Lola and Yvette took a nap while Teegan watched football and I cooked. I decided to put on some Christmas music. The time flew by, and before I knew it, we were off to dinner at my mother’s.

My side of the family celebrates with booze — wine and beer. There are always lots of “games” between my brothers and me. And by games, I mean that if a glass of wine is left unattended, it will likely be chugged by whoever finds it. This has been going on for years, and I’m not even sure how it started. The only real loser is the one whose wine gets polished off, only for them to discover there’s no more left to refill the glass. That’s a bummer.

The food was good all day long, and it was great seeing all the families together at both get-togethers. I felt very thankful for family. Blessed.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

Jalapeño.

BBQ brisket stuffed sweet potato with broccoli.

Artichoke spinach chicken and rice. It’s like an artichoke spinach dip, but with chicken and rice.

Happy Thanksgiving!! This is both family meals, lunch and dinner.

Saturday I slept in until about ten o’clock. That is very rare for me, and I was surprised everyone didn’t wake me. I must have needed it. I don’t usually sleep that late, and I woke up a little groggy.

Since the rest of the family had already eaten breakfast, I decided to skip that meal and make some burgers for everyone. I put together a grocery list and headed to the store—where absolute chaos awaited. It was a shit show. They had some holiday bullshit going on. Isn’t it a little early to have people dressed as Santa and elves? Apparently not for this store.

I survived the madness and got started on the burgers.  Prep work is generally my least favorite part of cooking, but I don’t mind it because it gives me something to do. Burgers don’t take much prep, so I was happy to make a lot of them. Easy meals are the best meals. Everyone seemed pretty happy with the food.

I headed out to my mother’s to water her plants and ended up staying a lot longer than planned. I got sucked into a Netflix special about Eddie Murphy and couldn’t pull my eyes away. I grew up watching his movies—probably way too young—so getting more insight into the man was a welcome comfort. It was great entertainment.

I was genuinely shocked to find out Eddie Murphy never drank or did any drugs, considering he spent the ’80s surrounded by people who were chemically enhanced. The stories he was involved in are epic.

That night Yvette and I had a date night. I wanted to take her somewhere fun. It was a beautiful November evening—unseasonably warm—so we went to the Lake House Pizzeria. Sitting outside by the lake wearing nothing but shorts and short-sleeve shirts is not something you’d expect this time of year, but there we were. Even better, the one freeze we had murdered all the annoying insects. Romantic vibes.

Sunday I made way too much breakfast: fifteen poppers and chorizo eggs. Sadly, only Yvette and I ate. Tee ran off to the gun range, and Lola can’t eat cream cheese. Tragic bummer. On the bright side, we had leftovers for the week. 

The girls went to Yvette’s parents’ for lunch, and I tackled the yard. Acorns. Everywhere. I had so many of the little bastards in my driveway that I felt like I was preparing for battle. The fuckers. I filled half a trash can with them. Big oak trees are a pain in my ass, but I love them anyway for their benefits.

I trimmed some more limbs too. We had a stop sign that was partially obscured by an oak limb. I didn’t want someone getting into a wreck and claiming they didn’t see the sign. I know the city is supposed to take care of these things, but they hadn’t done a damn thing, so I stepped up. That was even more work for me—breaking down and disposing of the branches. Love being a homeowner some days.

Next up: cleaning my car. It needed it. Desperately. After a few smart-ass comments from people over the last few weeks, I finally gave in and cleaned both the inside and outside. It’s amazing what you can accomplish with a little shame-based motivation.

Monday was just chaos.

The highlight might have been the Staff Senate meeting. They wanted to enforce attendance more tightly. I’m against it because my job isn’t as flexible as some. Things come up last minute, and I must actually do my work—unlike certain people who seem to have mastered the art of not working at all.  I think putting a tighter grip on attendance will discourage more people from wanting to be on the Staff Senate. We already have piss-poor attendance as it is.

They proposed an amendment to the bylaws—three unexcused absences and six excused— and suddenly the room erupted. There was a lot of disagreement. Some people thought that was too many absences. Others thought it was just right. Some others and I thought it was way too murky and not clearly defined.  What if you were on medical leave?  Maternity leave?  Does that count against you?   They were so eager to enforce attendance that they really didn’t think things through.  New bylaws were just quickly laid to paper. 

So in the end we couldn’t even vote because revisions were needed. The people who introduced the vote looked extremely disappointed.  Crushed.  I enjoyed every moment of it. I’d already had issues with this topic, and they were too cowardly to give me a proper response. 

Honestly, I should just resign as senator and become an alternate. These people are sucking all the fun out of it, and fun was literally the only reason I agreed.

I spent a good hour and a half Wednesday morning trying to get my internet bill down. Lucky for me, I had nothing pressing to do at work, so I could afford the time while on the clock. I was bounced around between three different individuals. It was a sad state of affairs.

At first, all I wanted to do was renegotiate. I had the prices of local competitors and what they were offering new customers—basically the same service I was already getting. I could cancel and switch to one of them for about forty dollars less, so why the hell wouldn’t I leave my current provider? I called my provider and was introduced to my first taste of the hold music.

The first lady I spoke with offered me a ten-dollar discount if I linked my bank account to their system. NO!!! I learned my lesson the hard way linking a bank account for automatic withdrawal with my medical bills. Hard no. When I told her that wasn’t going to work and that she’d need to match the competitors, she transferred me to someone above her. Yay—more elevator music. I think this is a tool they use to test a person’s willpower. I wanted to give in, but I remained strong.

The second lady offered me the same thing, plus a discount for going paperless and a “great deal” on cellular service if I switched to them. Again—no. I didn’t want deals; I wanted my bill to match the local competitors. After another threat to cancel, I was back on hold listening to the most beautiful, barf-inducing elevator music ever created.

The final girl must have been upper tier, because right off the bat she offered me a matching price if I would remain a customer. Ridiculous that it took over an hour to get to this stage, but I understand their logic. Most people give up. Most people take the small offers because it’s better than nothing.

I endured. Unfathomable patience from a man who has none. In the end, I got what I wanted.

On that Wednesday evening, we had one hell of a thunderstorm roll through town. It felt as if I’d turned the calendar back to May and a storm of early summer was announcing itself. It was wild. The light show was spectacular—fucking crazy for November. There were even reports of hail. Everyone in the house was up and moving around because of the unexpected fury of the beast outside, while I was out there like a loon, smiling ear to ear. I was full of static and decided to have a drink to fully embrace the wild weather wonders around us. I was loving every moment of it.

Thursday, it was more of the same. We desperately needed the rain. So nice and gloomy. I was in my element, with an elevated sense of happiness about me. Even a minor hit from my insurance company couldn’t bring me down.

It seems that when I had my ex-wife removed from my auto insurance, for some reason or another, they failed to cancel her “Death, Dismemberment, and Loss of Sight” coverage. How the hell that happens, I have no idea. I blindly assumed that all of that was included, and once she was removed, everything pertaining to her would also be removed. Tricky bastards, those insurance companies.

I was likely not in the best of places when I removed her. Heck, I’ll be honest—I wasn’t in the best of places at all. I was trying to get her name removed from so many things at that time that it doesn’t surprise me something slipped by unnoticed. I was a mess. If I wasn’t working, I was probably drinking. Dark days. At least they somehow caught it, and I’ll be receiving a credit for the time they’ve been charging me. What’s done is done. It’s not like I even knew I was getting screwed, so why be upset about it? Now I see it as a benefit.

Friday finally arrived, and thank God I had work carried over from Thursday, because I wouldn’t have had a damn thing to do that morning. Zilch. Nada. It was miserably slow after ten o’clock.

That afternoon was a different beast—busy as fuck. For better or worse, I was underwater, reaching for the surface. It was crazy. I was having a blood-sugar battle on top of it all: high, low, and back again. Rinse, repeat. Hard times.

After work, things finally mellowed out. Teegan headed out of town to watch his last high school football game. Yvette and Lola grabbed Whataburger and settled in with a Christmas movie while I ordered carryout from The Penny. It was a nice way to close out the week.

Happy Friday!!!

Jalapeño.

Carne guisada bowl

Tacos al pastor.

Shoyu hot dogs. A Hawaiian comfort food, I hear.

Chicken chow mien. those time everyone got in on eating it. Chicken breast, egg noodles, celery, broccoli, cabbage, carrots, green onion and a hoisin sauce mixture.

Saturday, I made breakfast for the three of us. The girls had biscuits and sausage, while I cooked up some potatoes and leftover steak from the night before, topping it all with an over-easy egg — a little breakfast bowl, if you will. After that came some house cleaning and laundry — just about typical for a weekend.

This time it was the boy’s momma who wasn’t feeling well. Since his father was off on a hunting expedition, we went over and watched the baby for a while. He was really no trouble and it turned out to be good, quality time. While we were there, Noah and Teegan made it back from their hunt, and we visited a bit before trekking off to the final campus tailgate of the season.

I was rather saddened that we’d already reached the end. I love those little party sessions — all the free food, drinks, and goodies that come with them. It’s always a lot of fun visiting and seeing everyone having a good time.

We were excited about getting the ribs one last time. Alas — no fucking ribs. WHY?! For that matter, the vendors were pretty scarce. You’d think that being the last hurrah of the season, they’d have been out in droves. Oh well.

Later, I decided to make some hot sauce from scratch. I’ve found that simple is better when it comes to hot sauce. I just boil a batch of red and green jalapeños, a tomato, and a little onion. Once they’re cooked through, I pull out the immersion blender, throw in some spices and cilantro, and get to blending. The smell was impressive — and eye-watering. I even coughed from the heat in the air. The batch was gold.

I decided to cook something that would go well with the sauce — something simple that everyone would like (except Lola). Chipotle chicken bowls with spicy chicken thighs hit the mark. Everyone went to bed satisfied while I started the first half of Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein. All in all, a pretty nice day.

Sunday was Teegan’s birthday! I made some biscuits, sausage, and bacon, and we all just hung around visiting for a while before Lola and Yvette took off to pick up the baby from her grandparents. The rest of the day was spent running errands around town, preparing for the week ahead, and doing chores around the house. I even trimmed up a tree in the backyard.

That’s what Sundays are all about when you get older and have kids, it seems — preparation and chores. I used to just make a menu, grab the supplies I needed, and, more often than not, head to the bar to wind down. That was after the divorce and before Yvette became part of my life — a time with few responsibilities during a darker period.

For Teegan’s birthday celebration, we all met up with my in-laws, my mom, and Noah, Nadia, and baby Niles. Zero One Ale House was calling Teegan’s name. I passed driving duties to Yvette and ordered myself a fancy house-brewed beer — it really hit the spot. Everyone ordered food and seemed to be having a good time, except poor Lola, who was sick to her stomach.

While devouring my Jamaican jerk chicken — spicy as can be — I ordered another one of those fancy beers. Damn, it was good washing down my meal. I even felt a little elevated by it.

To finish the night off, we all came back to our house and gathered around a cake Yvette had baked. We lit the candles and sang “Happy Birthday” to Teegan. I ate more cake than I needed. After everyone left, the remaining household went to bed. I finished the new Frankenstein movie and eventually hit the hay.

The Work Week Begins

The work week had to begin at some point. Monday wasn’t too terrible. Seth took off — because of course we couldn’t be fully staffed — so I stayed busy doing his job. Honestly, I liked it that way. Otherwise, I’d have been stuck in the office, and I thrive on being away from that joint.

After work, we had dinner plans with guests coming over. I had planned to run a few errands and swing by my mother’s to visit, but instead I came home to a surprise: the damn dogs had somehow opened the outside refrigerator — the one holding the rotisserie chicken. (Later, my camera revealed it was Rosco, but at the time I had no idea.) I was furious. I changed my plans and ran back out to Sam’s for another chicken. That little detour ate up all my extra time, so I didn’t get to visit my mother. Damn dogs.

Dinner turned out great, though, once everything fell into place. Owen was still messing with his little hotspot that he just couldn’t stop licking. Nadia was over, and since she’s been a veterinary assistant for years, she took a look at it. We applied some spray and she helped me put on “the cone of shame.” Poor bastard was terrified and kept running into everything with it on. I felt bad, but he really needed to let that spot heal — it was raw as hell.

The cone of shame… poor Owen.

Tuesday was fine, except for the horrific lunch I had. Owen either vomited or shit all over the place — I couldn’t tell, and it really didn’t matter. He eats shit, so when he vomits, it’s still essentially shit. Splatter shit. The smell was absolutely awful, and cleaning it up took a solid thirty minutes. I even stuffed earplugs up my nostrils to try and avoid gagging.

Lunch didn’t seem all that important after that cleanup.

The rest of the day was a drag in the office — which is usually the case when you’re stuck there. Afternoons progress at the pace of a snail.

After work, I went out to my mother’s to visit before coming home and cooking a few steaks for the girls. Teegan and I weren’t really feeling what they were having, and I had more vomit that needed cleaning up. Chicken bones — from the missing rotisserie chicken. I wondered when they’d show themselves. It was absolutely fucking awful and smelled just like the rotisserie chicken. I gagged and lost all appetite to cook anything for myself, so I decided to find some carryout for Tee and me at The Penny Taphouse. He got a nice Philly cheesesteak, and I went with my spicy ginger chicken — total comfort food.

Hump Day was just as bad, if not worse. I spent a lot of my time trying to find a place for Yvette and me to go for our one-year anniversary. It was coming up fast. I didn’t want to spend it in town — I wanted to take a nice little trip somewhere. My heart was leaning toward Fredericksburg. It’s already a fun destination, but during Christmas it’ll be absolutely beautiful for Yvette. I booked a room.

Thursday I made it to work early for our “morning meeting.” What a joke. Is it a pep rally? A pat on the back?  Disciplinary session? It wasn’t like the last ones, which were all about us supposedly not having freedom of speech on campus. What this one was — was a waste of time. I didn’t learn anything new that I didn’t already know.

I guess it’s good that we have these meetings to make sure everyone’s on the same page, but I still think it’s silly that I’m required to attend when I generally already know what’s being said — and most of it doesn’t even pertain to me.

I used to skip these meetings. I went most of a year without attending a single one. Eventually, my absence was noticed, and something was said to my boss. Ever since then, it’s been “mandatory” that I show up. Bullshit — but it is what it is.

Friday, everyone bailed by noon, and it was just Troy and me. I let him run around town paying up any bills he had left while I managed the office — which basically translates to trying not to fall asleep. It was that kind of Friday. I should have brought my book. Instead, I was jammin’ to classic Neil Young songs, trying to keep my eyes open.

After work, Yvette and I had a Ring Ceremony to attend for her student worker. It’s always tough to drag my ass back onto campus after getting off work, especially on a Friday. By that point, I’m ready to kick back and call it a day. I really wanted to jump right into the new show Yvette and I started, The Beast in Me.

Alas, the ring ceremony awaited. Honestly, though, I think it’s pretty amazing that Yvette has that kind of relationship with her student workers. This was the second time we’ve attended one of her graduating students’ ceremonies. Pretty cool.

The ceremony is rather moving, really. You can feel the excitement in the air. These young men and women have made amazing accomplishments and they are on their way to the goal. Futures so bright only the sun can rival.

Awards we came home and made quick meals. Yvette and I settled into 3 episodes of our show. Goodnight.

Happy Friday!!!

Jalapeño

Chipotle chicken bowl.

Yvette’s gumbo and potato salad.

Tuscan chicken and spaghetti squash.

Beef enchiladas.

Chicken mole.

The weekend started off with me grilling — soaking up a quiet morning. Bacon and egg street tacos for brunch hit the spot.  The weather was perfect — I enjoyed my coffee outside with the dogs I love this time of year when I can sit on the porch, water my plants, and listen to the songbirds sing. Pure tranquility.

The tranquility of that moment.

It didn’t last long.  I started looking at my backyard. Damn the acorns — I hate them. nature’s version of glitter — everywhere, impossible to get rid of, and just when you think you’ve cleaned them all up, there’s more. One of the joys (curse) of having big oak trees.

After that, not much happened. I ran a few errands, stopped by to see my mom before she left town, and let the day drift by. Lola was off to a concert, Alaya spent time with her grandmother, and Tee got picked up by his brother for an early morning hunting trip. I settled in with a new book while Yvette watched her show — I don’t think she even left the house. Mellow Saturday.

Sunday carried the same lazy energy. We had taco salads at Yvette’s parents’ and lounged around for most of the day. Weekends never last long enough, but this one was beautiful — calm, quiet, and exactly what we needed.

Than came Monday.

Monday was the day from hell. I barely slept, and my stomach was a mess. Pretty sure it was the salmon I made — I had a bad feeling about one of the pieces.  It was a little off. I noticed it when I was preparing it and made sure I was the one who ate that piece.  Big mistake. Regrets. I threw up a few times.

As if that wasn’t enough, baby Niles was also throwing up.  He was lethargic. Scans showed an intestinal obstruction. They decided it was best to have him airlifted to DFW for better testing.

Yvette wasn’t thrilled that I didn’t go with her, and honestly, I wish I could have. But someone had to stay behind — the house, the kids, the dogs, work… It also turned out they were in DFW for entire week, which I couldn’t have done.

I waited for updates from Yvette while juggling dinner for the kids and making sure Noah’s dogs were fed too. It was a long, anxious day.  Luckily, when news did arrive, the obstruction was just a simple twisting of the small intestine. They performed a minimally invasive procedure (through the anal cavity) to untwist it. The baby was fine and once again drinking and eating.

Told to remain in the area for at least 24 hours, they were discharged on Tuesday. I thought that was a little soon and that Niles should have been under observation for a longer period of time. I’m no doctor — what do I know?

Ignorantly believing all was better, I went about my workday Tuesday. I was tired, and my stomach was till a little sensitive. My biggest gripe was that I love seafood, and the thought of eating fish made me queasy. Idiot. Throwing up salmon and coffee the day before was brutal.

That Tuesday evening, the kids’ father paid for their food — Japanese steakhouse — leaving me to fend for myself. That was fine; I had Trader Joe’s meals at home.

Turns out my gut feeling that the baby should have been under observation wasn’t without merit. Around 10 PM, they took Niles back to the hospital because he wasn’t eating or drinking. After 12 hours of ER waiting, they finally got a room and saw the doctor: Niles was inflamed from the procedure but otherwise fine.

On Wednesday, they kept him overnight for observation to make sure he stayed hydrated. No one had packed appropriately for a long stay, so Yvette checked out of the hotel and went to find clean clothes and travel accessories.

I was at work, busy as a bee and disappointed to hear that I’d be sleeping alone in my bed again. I just wanted them all to be home. I didn’t mind getting dog food or taking care of the dogs. I love feeding the kids dinner. I just wanted everyone home so they could catch a breath.

When Thursday rolled around, the week already felt like it should have been over. What a long week it had been. I partly blame the time change for that — not just everything else going on. It gets dark so early now, and I’ve been running around after work trying to make use of the little daylight left before heading home to cook or find dinner for the kids.

I really do hate the fucking time change.

The workday started with a minor shouting match between my coworkers, Seth and Troy, over a silly disagreement that had happened around five o’clock on Wednesday. Both were being stubborn, each convinced he was right.

I tried my hardest not to laugh out loud — it was exactly the kind of ridiculous moment I needed to start the day. I even thanked Seth for the entertainment. He grinned and said, “You’re welcome,” like he’d just performed stand-up.  Honestly, I think he enjoyed it as much as I did.

Later, I talked to Yvette. She had stayed another night at the hospital, catching what little sleep she could in a chair. The baby was finally keeping most of the formula down — most — but the doctors wanted to keep him a bit longer to see if he’d have a bowel movement before going home. It wasn’t looking too promising.

In the end, they all stayed one more night in DFW.

I can’t believe Yvette left on Monday and it’s already Friday. That’s the longest I’ve gone without seeing her in over a year, and honestly, I don’t like it one bit.

The day at work was meandering along at a painfully slow pace. Troy had taken the day off to dry his eyes after his little altercation with Seth. I expected as much—he always gets upset and needs a day to recover. Poor baby. The upside? I got to pick up a couple of his tasks since my own work had basically dried up.

By the afternoon, I was just done. I kept glancing at the clock, counting down the hours. I had dinner plans with the whole family, and all I could think about was cooking for everyone. Mostly, though, It was just excitement knowing Yvette was finally heading home. I can’t even explain how much I’ve missed her.

The evening was magical. Dinner was amazing. We laughed. Some of us drank. We shared our week’s war stores. We were exhausted, but we were all together.

Happy Friday!!!

Jalapeño.

Chicken chow mien.

Salmon and shrimp.

Gorgonzola gnocchi with chicken, broccoli and mushrooms.

BBQ pork ribeye, baked beans, potato salad, grilled okra and slaw.

Gnocchi alla Sorrentina with chicken & mushrooms.

New York strip with cognac peppercorn mushrooms, butter mashed potato’s and broccoli.

Saturday Morning at TCU

Saturday morning I awoke refreshed. I woke up early, like it was a workday—which I suppose the TCU campus tour essentially would be, at least a little. I took a shower and wanted (well, needed) some coffee. For some unexplainable reason, our hotel had nothing complimentary unless I brewed it myself. So that’s exactly what I did. Lame.

In the lobby, I settled down in front of the TV and flipped it over to The Weather Channel, wondering if I’d see any mention of last night’s crazy storm. Apparently, a tornado did indeed touch down near where we were staying—hence the ominous sirens. Crazy. It really was one scary night out.

By morning, the weather had mellowed into a calm, gray overcast. I’ll take that any day over yesterday’s white-knuckle drive. Honestly, it might have been the perfect campus-touring weather.

Hotel experiences are always something. I know many people will disagree, but I truly enjoy them. I like sitting in the lobby and people-watching. I met a lady from L.A. whose daughter was going to TCU and really liked it. I told her we were there for a tour. She asked if the Dodgers had won. I had no fucking idea. She seemed to want to chat, while I just wanted my coffee and a little quiet time to myself.

We arrived at TCU, and I was immediately wowed by the stadium—and how they managed to make it look like it had always been part of the campus architecture.. Even after that brutal storm, the place was gorgeous. Truly stunning, actually. I could imagine how incredible it would look without branches and debris scattered everywhere. It felt like we were taking a leisurely stroll through a park.

Funny thing: our campus tour guide turned out to be from our own town! Small world, right? That made his stories more relatable for Teegan. It was also a much more immersive tour—we walked the campus more than we had on any of the others. And might I reiterate—the campus is fucking beautiful. Man.

Out of the four college tours we’ve done, I’d put TCU at the top of the list. A big part of that might just be the weather, though. Our previous visits were either freezing, soaking wet, or hotter than hell—it’s always the weather.

I did feel a little pang realizing this was probably our final campus tour with Teegan. I’ve really loved these trips with him and Yvette. It’s been exciting to see college life from different perspectives across the state.

Heading Home

On our way out of town, we stopped at Trader Joe’s. I found a few treats for a great price. Lola had to have In-N-Out Burger, so we went there next. The chaos inside that place—and not knowing what the hell was going on—gave me a full-fledged panic attack. No joke. I actually had to splash water on my face to calm down.

I let Yvette drive home. I’d done my duty. We grabbed some Chick-fil-A and made our way back to our own little town. It was a wild trip, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.

Sunday morning, I slept in. When I finally woke up, I wasn’t thrilled to find that one of the dogs had left me a “nice” surprise. After cleaning up that mess, I ran to the store to grab what I needed for breakfast: chorizo potato tacos. Yum, yum, yum.

Weekend Wrap-Up

We spent the afternoon watching some football at my in-laws’ after feasting on some caldo. The Eagles beat the Giants. I hate them both, but I really despise the Eagles.

The rest of the afternoon was spent running errands together—which I actually enjoy. I also needed to fix the wall shower mount, which ended up meaning replacing it. Easy task. I was presented with two options: drill into the bath tile or use the adhesive that came with it. I’ll try the adhesive first. I’m in no rush to risk breaking the tile.

That’s basically my weekend. I’d say it was a lot.

Monday. The Halloween week!!  What a week to be alive and kicking.  What a week to be above the grave.  The spookiest time of year.

Work was actually consistently busy, which made the day just fly right on by—and honestly, I’ll take that any day. Nothing drags worse than a slow Monday. I had some good conversations with folks across campus, and the universal consensus was clear: everyone’s over this weather and ready for a change.

Yvette was off taking care of Nile’s, so I didn’t see her until that evening..

After work, we had Noah and Nadia over for some burgers. I figured since the cold weather was moving in, we might as well fire up the grill one last time. Burgers are easy, delicious. I mean, who doesn’t love a burger?

I had fun outside cooking. Flipping patties. The company was great, the food hit the spot, and the evening turned into one of those unexpectedly perfect Monday nights that make the week feel a little lighter.

On Tuesday, the cold actually moved in a little earlier than expected. One moment it was sunny, and the next it turned cloudy and windy. You can practically watch the weather change here in Texas. Oh well — I wasn’t dressed for the cooler temps, but I had to adapt.

That evening was all about trunk or treat with Alaya. She dressed up as Stitch from Lilo & Stitch, and of course, she was absolutely adorable.

I’d never been to a trunk or treat before — they’re pretty chaotic! Considering it was hosted by a high school, this one was a huge affair. So many damn people. Alaya cleaned up on candy and even scored a balloon animal. She was a happy, happy little baby. I love this stuff.

Halloween Day!!! 🎃

Hard to believe it’s been two years since I proposed to Yvette — dressed as a clown, no less. Yep, a fucking clown. Halloween has always been special to me, but ever since that day, it’s taken on a whole new meaning. Now it’s not just about spooky costumes, scary movies, and pumpkins — it’s about one of the happiest moments of my life.

I still smile thinking about how ridiculous that proposal was. Silly and not exactly romantic — but totally me. I wouldn’t change a thing. It’s one of those memories I’ll always carry with Yvette and the kids. Funny to think it all happened before we even knew Alaya would be part of our little family. Life moves fast.

As usual, I showed up to work in my traditional Halloween “uniform”: a black shirt and one of my spooky buttons. This year, I went with the pumpkin one. I’ve had those buttons for at least eight years now, and somehow I’ve managed not to lose a single one — even though I only wear them once a year. Honestly, that’s the real Halloween miracle.

Campus was alive today — a witchy wonderland down in the UC basement with food, black lights, door contests, and more; a costume contest in the library; and trick-or-treating all around. Watching the students laugh and show off their costumes just filled me with joy. There’s something about seeing people fully embrace the fun that makes my soul shine on Halloween.

I picked up some lunch, and Yvette and I had a little picnic outside the UC, people-watching as students walked to and from classes in their spooky and cute Halloween costumes. Yvette was in total Halloween mode and started talking about maybe throwing a Halloween party next year. I thought that was a damn good idea.

The rest of the day at work was filled with the joy of Halloween. It’s always such a fun day to be on campus — everyone’s energy just feels a little lighter and a lot more playful.

After work, it was trunk or treat and trick or treat adventures.

I was Yip Yip from Sesame Street. A bit of an obscure character, apparently, since no one I’ve talked to seems to know who he is.

How?! He’s been around since 1972! I mean, I guess I sort of get it. He doesn’t have much interaction since he doesn’t really talk. He’s not cuddly like Elmo or the others, but I’ve always thought he’s damn unique.

As a kid, the Martian segments always cracked me up — especially the one where Yip Yip encounters a telephone. Still hilarious to this day.

First up was the Boo Bash on campus. It was a simple little blast. Alaya scored big.

After our little campus walk, we headed to the south side of town—apparently the place for trick-or-treating. We had no idea what we were getting into, but wow, it was packed. Some of the houses were even giving out adult treats, such as beer, spiked punch and Jell-O shots. What a treat.

Only three people recognized who I was dressed up as, which was a bit disappointing. Everyone else thought I was Cookie Monster. I mean… I kind of get it, but still. It felt good when someone said “yip yip”.

We wrapped up the night with some takeout and handed out candy to the last few trick-or-treaters. Yvette and I ended the evening with one of my favorite Halloween traditions: watching Trick ’r Treat. Perfect way to close out the night.

Happy Friday!! Happy Halloween!!!

Horror Season 2025

Mandy

Fucking Mandy. This movie. This movie holds a place in my heart. 2018 — Jesus, that feels so long ago. I love this film. It’s been a few years since I’ve watched it, but it still lingers. It’s deeply atmospheric.

Director and writer Panos Cosmatos first caught my attention with his debut, Beyond the Black Rainbow. I was eagerly waiting to see what he’d do next — and I wasn’t disappointed.

Mandy is very much a psychedelic rock opera of madness.  Conan the Barbarian on acid in an ‘80s fever dream.

The story itself is fairly straightforward — if you ignore all the subtext, symbolism, and cosmic dread leaking out of every frame.. It’s a revenge flick — drenched in horror. Lots of horror. But really, the film is all about the visuals and sound design. My god, the colors are everywhere. The imagery burrows into your mind and stays there for many moons afterward. I cannot stress enough how visually stunning this film is — unlike anything I’ve seen before or since.

Per IMDb:

“The enchanted lives of a couple in a secluded forest are brutally shattered by a nightmarish hippie cult and their demon-biker henchmen, propelling a man into a spiraling, surreal rampage of vengeance.”

A murder-revenge rampage — and what a ride it is.

The King Crimson intro sets the mood.  You know you’re in for something transcendent when King Crimson shows up.

We start with a couple living a tranquil, happy life on the outskirts of civilization. He’s a lumberjack; she works at a convenience store. One night, their peace is obliterated by the arrival of a deranged religious cult. The titular Mandy is murdered, and her partner, Red, descends into a blood-soaked revenge trip.  Lots of drugs.  The viewer is dragged along for the trip — a blood-soaked fever dream to the very end.

Nic Cage is at his finest here. One scene, in particular, is unforgettable: he completely breaks down, chugging a bottle of booze in his tighty-whities and unleashing a primal scream of grief and fury. It’s raw, unfiltered, and unforgettable.  For my money, this is the best Cage yet.

Jeremiah Sand  — what a disgusting and outstanding villain. A narcissistic failed musician turned cult leader, convinced he’s a prophet of God and everything is his. He’s so grotesquely self-absorbed it’s almost mesmerizing.  His song is atrocious — and the fact that you can buy it on iTunes is the funniest kind of blasphemy.  He is at times pathetic and almost laughable but also shudder worthy.  New Age hippie trash. 

And then there’s the satanic LSD biker gang, The Black Skulls. My god — are these beings even human? I honestly don’t know. Not since Hellraiser have such demonic creations graced the screen. They’re frighteningly grotesque, straight out of a nightmare.  Mad max meets “cenobite” aesthetic.  The chainsaw fight scene? That’s cinema. Pure, deranged, chainsaw-to-chainsaw.

The Chemist and the Tiger.  “You exude a cosmic darkness”.  What a line. What a scene. What a vibe.

This movie demands multiple viewings to fully absorb all the tiny, twisted details baked into it. Enjoy the ride. Hallucinogenic, nightmarish, and weirdly beautiful. 

All Hail the Cheddar Goblin!!!

Jalapeño

Chicken veggies over rice with queso.

Tapatio’s w/ Spanish rice.

Burgers.

Saturday, we woke up and went to the Homecoming parade. Alaya got all the candy. She was a happy girl. The parade itself was actually good; they had some clever floats for our viewing pleasure. The announcer, not so much. I think they need to slim down the announcements. My lord, the poor guy was about two blocks behind before someone finally told him to zip it.. Honestly, the parade could have been over for ten minutes before he even caught up..

After the parade, I rushed off to my next event: the No Kings protest.

It was an incredibly uplifting experience. I hadn’t really planned on attending this time around, but my mother called to say she and a friend had made a last-minute decision to go. I’m so glad I decided to join them.

I felt my spirit lifted. It was a gathering of people united by their frustration with the current administration—namely, our Dear Leader, Trump. The age range and racial makeup of the crowd were all over the place. Not the radicals or far-left types Fox News likes to portray—just regular people from different walks of life.

As I’ve said before, I’m not a Democrat—I’m an Independent. I’ve never voted straight party. Some folks in the crowd were even Republicans who’ve simply had enough of the “orange man.” These were people who want justice for everyone, not just a select few.

The crowd was even larger and more organized than last time. The police had taped everything off and had a noticeably stronger presence. They were also pulling over the obnoxious, instigating assholes speeding by in loud trucks. Every time one got pulled over, the crowd erupted in cheers. That felt like justice served—with a side of sweet, sweet karma.

You can disagree and support the Dear Leader—but don’t be an asshole about it.

The signs were even more creative and inspiring this time. I also loved how more people dressed up. We had inflatable costumes, and even a woman who made her own frog outfit. Apparently, the Portland frog protester sparked a wave of frog inflatables across the country—who knew?

There was a loose, joyful feel to the crowd. Just people united for a good cause, having a good time. Such a good vibe in the air and among the people.

I was happy to run into a couple of old friends at the protest—again. It’s funny that I hadn’t seen them in years, but here we were, crossing paths at both No Kings protests. For a man who’s all about dividing people, I guess in his own twisted way, Trump is bringing us together.

After the protest and back at home, I really just wanted a damn burger. I called in to a local joint, City Limits, who was serving $10 burgers on Saturday, and Yvette and I split a tasty meal. We really didn’t need it, considering that the tailgating we were about to attend usually fills sour bellies.

The RamJam was a blast, but once again, it was too damn hot—like a slow roast you didn’t sign up for. I ate way too much—ribs, sausage, tacos, cheesy potatoes, fried chicken, Frito pie, and a lot of beer. After that burger, I really didn’t need any of it, but here I was: a walking, bloated mess.

We ran into my friend Art again, and naturally, Yvette and I had to take shots. Obligated. At least this time, Yvette was going down with me—heroic, really. They were all very impressed with her ability to kill a Jell-O shot. The rest of the day, I burped up the rump shots.

We enjoyed ourselves so much that we stuck it out until basically the end.

That evening, we ran a few errands and just chilled. It was a quiet night with the baby gone, Lola out of town, and Teegan out helping his brother.

I turned on a horror comedy, Freaky. It was a blast! It’s about a body switch—a teenage girl swaps bodies with a serial killer, and vice versa. She has 24 hours to make it right or she’s fucked, forever stuck in the killer’s body. Vince Vaughn plays the killer’s body, and his turn as a teenage girl is actually unexpectedly hilarious. I didn’t realize I needed Vince Vaughn playing a high school teen in my life.

My lord, some of the kills in this movie are just truly epic. The shop teacher was sawed in half in a spectacle of blood and guts that would make even the goriest horror fans cringe and cheer. One poor fool has a wine bottle shoved down his throat. Great fun. Satirical horror at its fucking best.

Sunday was a beautiful morning. It was brisk. I watered the plants and enjoyed my coffee. Teegan was already up, playing his new game.  I could hear the yells coming from inside, which basically means he was either winning or losing spectacularly—I was laughing either way. I’m definitely going to miss his gaming antics when he heads off to college.

Yvette’s parents made red beef enchiladas, hard shell tacos, rice, and beans—a true treat for a Sunday lunch. We ate and watched football. Roger and I talked about work and the endless weirdness that is campus life.. I left stuffed and with a couple of new Halloween decorations that Emma gave me on my way out.

It was a good day. Yvette and I went to the store, I meal-prepped for breakfast (which I suspect Teegan ate overnight), did some house chores, and went to my mom’s. We mostly just relaxed, which might be code for “napped.” Everyone was back at the house for dinner, and that was the weekend in a nutshell.

Monday, dear Monday.  The most dreaded day of the week. I was stuck with office duty—again—which probably makes me sound like a broken record when I say how much I truly fucking hate it. I feel like a caged bird (pretty sure that’s been said before too). Sitting around with nothing to do drives my ADHD brain absolutely insane. Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t have a regular office job. I should remember that every time I start looking around campus for something else.

I did manage to escape for a bit to attend the Staff Senate meeting. You know, after getting that charming little email about my poor attendance record.  Fuck it—I wasn’t doing anything else for a change, so I figured why not show up and make my presence known.  Appease the “executive board”, so to say.

The meeting looked way more official than any of the ones I’ve attended in the past. Each senator had a little table tent with their name on it.  I walked in and had a full “WTF is this?” moment.  For a second, I thought we had assigned seats or something, until one of the ladies handed me my tent. Honestly, I don’t see the point. Just feels like an unnecessary waste of someone’s time.

Was anything informative discussed at the meeting?
Haha, not really.

I did learn a little about the new department, Career & Professional Success. What I really wanted to know was what happened to all the people from Career Development—the department this new one apparently replaced. They’re just… gone. Vanished. Like they got Thanos-snapped out of employment. Did they all just retire in unison? Really strange. I expected at least one person to stick around for the handoff. Apparently not.

The rest of the meeting was just committee reports, which felt like a whole lot of nothing. Someone mentioned possibly getting us T-shirts. Again, kind of an unnecessary waste of time and energy. Do we really need shirts to signify we’re senate members? No. Attendance came up too, so I’m guessing I wasn’t the only one who got that email.

Anyway, I agreed to the terms, so I guess I’m strapped in for the ride. But based on experience, I’m not expecting any major accomplishments to come out of this.

The rest of the week wasn’t particularly exciting.

At work, I just tried my best to look busy—sorry, stay busy—around the office. My big escape from the monotony came in the form of trash cans. Yep, you read that right: trash cans.

Apparently, the housing department decided to splurge on some fancy new shiny bins and didn’t want the old ones anymore, so off they went to salvage. The funny thing is, the old cans were still perfectly fine! A gross waste of money—classic university move.

I let a few other departments know about the unwanted cans, and two of them immediately jumped at the offer to replace their battered old Rubbermaid Brutes. One department came to grab theirs, but I became the unofficial trash can delivery service for the other, hauling cans across campus.

After several trips over a few days, I’d successfully distributed the “new-to-them” cans around campus. It felt good to save a couple of departments some cash—and hey, it even made two buildings look a little less trashy.

Friday rolled around and started out rather normal — that is, until I realized that a nick on my thumb had bled all over the shirt I was planning to work in. I had to change, and I wondered to myself if that wasn’t going to sum up the rest of my day.
Well, it summed up the moring.

The office was already crazy when I walked in the door. Everyone and their fucking dog needed something from us. We later found out it was because their boss was onto them for not completing jobs, so they needed us to help with the logistics. It was loud, and some of the weirdest of the weird were lingering around like fucking vultures circling a rotting corpse.

This was a bummer for our office, and I brought it up to my boss. Just because the techs aren’t getting their jobs done in a timely manner doesn’t equate to an emergency for me. This shit shouldn’t trickle down on us. It was slow most of the week, and then Friday was insanely busy. Actually, the last few Fridays have been hectic as all kinds of hell.

I also had to deal with some exceptionally moody fuckers. One guy came into the office and loitered for almost an entire hour waiting for one of my coworkers to return so they could run an errand together. He got pissy because he had to wait, and then when my team member arrived, the weird fucker wouldn’t even talk to him — so my coworker went about his business. Only then did this fucker go, “Is he leaving again?”
Yes, you idiot. Why didn’t you stop him if you’ve been waiting on him for almost an hour?

I just knew he’d go tell his boss the reason he couldn’t get his job done was because my office wouldn’t accommodate his needs. That’s just the way this asshole is.

I also get a little anxious on days when I have a long road trip ahead of me — and Friday was that day.

It was gloomy and wet, which would’ve been perfect on an average day. But this wasn’t an average day. We had to hit the road to DFW. What’s usually an almost five-hour drive could only be made worse by the weather conditions. Plus, who wants to leave town with severe weather in the forecast? You could come back to a mess.

I was ready for the road — just not looking forward to it.

The drive was a chore with all the showers. People driving like maniacs in piss-poor visibility really takes it out of me. Hell, the interstate itself takes a lot out of me.

After checking into the hotel, it was a quick trip to the most chaotic Old Navy I’ve ever seen. Talk about a goddamn mess—I have no idea what the hell happened there. Looked like a tornado had gone through the store. Looked like Lola’s room.

Next was an outing on the town for some local Cuban food at a place called Lola’s. Yep, same name. I guess they’d eaten there back when it was just a little old food truck. Now it’s a full sit-down dining experience. I do love me some Cuban food.

Leaving was interesting—one hell of a storm. I’d forgotten just how ominous those tornado sirens sound. Visibility was shit, and we had to “turn around, don’t drown.” It was dark, flooded, and crazy. GPS rerouted us through what must’ve been a shady neighborhood—thankfully, we couldn’t really see it. It was a scary adrenaline rush for us all.

Back at the hotel, Yvette and I hit the bar for a drink. We needed it. Happy fucking Friday!!!

Horror Season 2025

The Gate!!

As a child, The Gate was my jam. A horror film geared toward children, 1987’s The Gate doesn’t rely heavily on blood and gore, but its story of backyard demons and literal hell on earth was terrifying to me back then.  Still is today.

All the leads were child actors, so I could relate to their performances—their onscreen fears. Monsters attacking while Mom and Dad are away? Classic ’80s kid-centric horror.

It all starts when a storm brings down a tree, uncovering a cavernous pit that turns out to be the gateway to hell. Around this time, the parents head out of town, leaving their 15-year-old daughter in charge of the house, the family dog, and her 12-year-old brother.

At that age, your parents are your protectors. So when bad things begin to happen and the kids are left to face it alone, it hit especially hard. I could project myself into their scenario—it frightened the hell out of me imagining something similar happening while my own parents were gone.

In my books, The Gate belongs right up there in the kid-peril pantheon with The Goonies and Honey, I Shrunk the Kids—except this one’s a full-on horror movie. The kids triumph in the end with little or no help from the adults. I’ve always loved that kind of story. It made them feel more real, more relatable.

So what about the creatures? Well, there are imp-like demons no taller than a doll—and they look terrifying. There’s a zombie that can attack and abduct people through walls. A giant serpent-demon emerges from the floor. Kids and teens get possessed. There’s even a weird dream sequence where the parents come back… but they’re evil. And don’t get me started on the family dog’s death—it made me want to cry.

This movie had all the spooky elements needed to scare a kid.

But what truly haunted me was when the lead character develops an all-seeing eyeball in the palm of his hand. That eye creeped me out more than anything else. He eventually takes care of it with a shard of glass, but that image stuck with me for years. I was terrified that something like that might happen to me. The idea of an always-watching demon eye, and the only way to stop it was stabbing yourself? Yikes.

I still think the movie holds up today. Nostalgic.  The practical effects are spot-on. I love the creature and sound design.  Nightmarish in the best way. The atmosphere is just great.  The child actors are convincing.  When they scream in terror it’s as if they were truly terrified.  The Gate scared the ever-living shit out of me as a kid—and honestly, that’s the highest praise I can give it.

So if you’ve never seen The Gate, you owe it to your inner child to watch it.

Jalapeño.

Sweet and sour pork.

Mexican steak with a lot of sides.

Tuscan chicken and spaghetti squash.

Chipotle chicken bowl.

Hibachi bowel.