Tag: writing
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On Stage with La Gran Señora

Being a mariachi musician, you learn that every gig carries its own rhythm. But this one—this was different. It was more than performing alongside a star.More than shaking the hand of someone people call a legend.It was… everything. The day started early, like most mariachi days do. Instruments packed. Trajes pressed. Voices warming somewhere between…
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Waking Up, (or Almost Sleeping)
Ahhh, sweet slumber. The kind where your body finally stops twitching from yesterday’s chores and the blanket has molded perfectly to your shape. I’m out cold, dreaming of nothing, floating in pure bliss. Then it begins. A faint sound. Far away. Growing louder. Louder. Until it crashes into my skull like a marching band on…
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Conversations With That Guy In The Mirror
A funny reflection about my reflection. We all have that voice in our heads—the one we consult when making decisions, psyching ourselves up, or talking ourselves out of regrettable choices. Sometimes it’s calm, sometimes it’s nagging, and sometimes it’s downright mischievous. For me, that voice has a face. He’s there every morning—the guy in the…
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I Miss My Mom
It’s been almost a year since she left us, and some days it still feels like the world paused in that moment. I remember the quiet that filled the house afterward, a silence so deep it pressed against my chest. And yet, in that silence, her presence whispers back to me—in the smallest things, the…
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But I Just Wanna Play Catch
There was a time when the only thing that mattered was whether you could catch the ball. The sun burned hot on your back, the grass smelled like summer and sweat, and the popsicle you dropped three minutes ago was already a sticky puddle in the dirt. Your knees were scraped, your socks were wet,…
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The Glorious Absurdity of the First Day
Ahhhh… the first day of school. The crown jewel of the academic year. And this time, it comes after professional learning. Two glorious, soul-crushing days where you learned… well, you’re still not entirely sure what you learned. Icebreakers, slide decks, team-building exercises so awkward you briefly considered faking your own death. Somehow, someone convinced you…
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The Day Camp Diaries
When you hear “summer camp,” you might picture kids whisked away in vans, lugging haphazardly packed duffel bags, shipped off to some far-flung campground for a summer of “character building” and kumbaya bonding. Well… yeah—if you’ve watched enough movies, that’s exactly what you’ve seen. The reality? Not all camps are like that. Some are closer…
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Nostalgia on a Stick
Growing up, summer in Calexico had its own soundtrack—somewhere a screen door slammed, a dog barked three streets over, and a radio played Ramón Ayala so faintly you couldn’t tell if it was next door or two blocks over. The air already smelled like heat—dust, sun-baked asphalt, and tortillas puffing on the comal in someone’s…
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Morning Ritual: Still Not Funny, Dad
Mornings during the school year were something of a production for me. I wasn’t exactly a morning curmudgeon, but I wouldn’t have called myself a ray of sunshine either. My brain tended to boot up about ten minutes before my alarm—though, truth be told, it was never really off. At night, it just gave me…
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Storytelling with a Camera
Photography is weird. You’ve got the people who treat their cameras like they’re nuclear launch codes—checking every dial, obsessing over ISO like it’s some secret recipe. Then there are those who swear the perfect golden hour is the only time worth shooting. And don’t get me started on the endless debates about gear — “Full…
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The Exploits of an Over-Active Neurodivergent Mind

I’m good at a lot of things.I’ve always been good at things.(Not bragging… just being honest.) Drawing. Painting. Sketching.Music. Hands-on tinkering (mainly taking things apart just to know). Cooking. Eating.And—surprise twist in the third act—writing. (Who knew overthinking could finally earn its moment?) Good at many things, yes. But a master of none. Unless you…
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A Moment of Unconscious Consciousness
There’s a magic moment—quiet, fleeting—that happens between the instant your eyes first flutter open and the moment your brain realizes you’re awake. Most of us miss it. It feels like dreaming, but softer. Slower. It’s that gentle drift from unconsciousness to consciousness… before your body reminds you of gravity, responsibilities, or just how good the…
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“What’s in a Name?” A Late Show Monologue for the Mispronounced, the Well-Meaning, and the Forever Traviesos
You ever notice how the first day of school feels like the opening scene of a courtroom drama? The teacher walks in with the roster, everyone’s watching, and the tension is thick. And it’s all fun and games until they pause. Squint. Tilt their head. Take a long sip of coffee like it’ll give them…