Early Morning Confessional


It’s The 1st of the Month Vlog! Every 1st I will attempt to have a vlog of sorts so as to open up myself to the world in between photography, videography, and directing gigs, as well as the unsavory work I do to support it (you’ll see in the video). This one is titled Early Morning Confessional.

So this is my 1st vlog. I’ll try another go as I head to Texas and then back to Nevada, that time with my Canon camera as opposed to my iPhone 6s Plus.

Anyway, I hope it’s at least somewhat interesting haha
Laters.
-TDR

Check me out on any of these platforms:
Website: https://tristandrue.wordpress.com

Instagram: https://Instagram.tristramduke.com

Facebook: https://Facebook.com/tristandruerogers

Email me at tristandruerogers@gmail.com to get in direct contact with me.

Advertisements

Travel Log #4 (This is it!)


Breakfast was amazing. I had something called a Big Haul breakfast and Sarah had a nice dish with some sort of cinnamon toast/pancake concoction.


We didn’t make it to that Georgia O’Keeffe museum because we had the misfortune to wait inside a tattoo shop within Central Albuquerque for almost an hour. That scared us away, especially when the guy came out with the worst renditions of our requests that I’ve seen in a while. So no tattoo and no museum. What a bust.


The rest of our time in town was rather pleasant. We tried on hats and I even got Sarah to try on this beautiful vintage dress that was worth all the gold in the world if you wanted to see a smile unlike any other. Sadly, Sarah is a practical woman and so I couldn’t buy it for her due to the outrageous number drawn onto its tag.


We checked out this comic shop at the behest of my brother on Facebook where Sarah found a comic book written and drawn from a New Mexico native titled Sadman. I have an old screen play from when I wasn’t yet a man with that name as well. Both main characters were superheroes with shitty costumes, but I chose not to read anymore of it because I don’t know – life is good. It’s probably not the same as mine. Probably. Yeah.


This skate shop had this boss ass Pitbull roaming and keeping guard. We petted him and he payed us no mind, instead he kept watch. 


When the drive finally started, Sarah attempted to play a game about guessing animals with me. Apparently I do not know that many animal names, so we had to switch to Would You Rather? Which was all kinds of fun.


Rain poured all throughout the mountainside of New Mexico and into the plain and winding roads of Texas.


We stopped at a Rudy’s where we both ate a big ass potato stuffed with brisket. I had me a Texas beer called Shiner (my favorite) and Sarah had her an Ultra (healthiest beer on the market). Afterward we hung out for a bit, resting our poor backs and legs. With another set of engorged bellies, we were off. Some toads were hanging out by a drain pipe beside our car. That was cool.


We smoked a blunt and I had a panic attack. Sorry babe. She had to drive the rest of the way. Music helped me settle and I began to dance inside the darkness of the countryside.


After finally making it to the apartment, Sarah and I both passed out, unsure of our futures, but ready to take it on with gusto. 

-T.D.


P.S. Sarah read a few passages of my book, even writing down some notes. I’d love any critique from her. I also finally sent a few pages to an agent. That’s a whole lot of crazy right now. So much is happening so quickly.

I need to call my mom right now.

Oh, shit. I need a job.

Laters.

Travel Log #3: Detour


I have awoken in Albuquerque, New Mexico shivering atop a paper thin sheet residing within the sketchiest hotel room I’ve ever been. I don’t even want to get into it, but maybe cheaper ain’t always better. It looks like the second cousin of the hotel room from the Shining and the carpets do NOT help.


Arizona was beautiful. We stopped to eat and stretch our legs at Flagstaff. First to this nice old timey diner – that was short staffed and so not full, but requiring a twenty minute wait. The petrified park couldn’t wait that long if we’re to catch it under the sun, so we picked up another helping of greasy food from Jack in the Box as opposed to In-N-Out a handful of hours ago. I want my mother to retire here. I want that more than anything.

We listened to an assortment of disparate tunes from The Eminem Show, The Lion King soundtrack, Jack White, The Dixie Chicks, Marty Robbins, Kenny Chesney, N’sync, Nirvana, and 2 Pac among others. I had a bag full of CDs that I wasn’t sure were in working order nor whether any of the musical acts were worth a listen, so as we drove and jammed out I thinned the heard a little bit at every stop. 


The mountains and forestry were far beyond anything that I’ve seen in the Las Vegas side of Nevada since I’ve moved there. The fresh air reinvigorated us. We were stable again, both in our hearts and lungs. 


We passed by an attraction labeled as “Bearizona” which is supposedly exactly what it sounds like (hopefully) and by the gull of happenstance, if I ever pass it by again I will stop and try not to get mauled by too many bears.

My phone never really worked while deep in the state of Arizona. It was nice.


Sarahann looked amazing surrounded by the sunset of the petrified park. All those greens, blues, pinks, oranges, and her everything. We barely made it through the park with an hour to spare for sightseeing, but I wouldn’t have wanted it any different.

I’m here with my woman now, who’s in the shower, as I sip on coffee made with the use of our bottled water. The sinks don’t look up to par for drinking water. I hope my Sarah doesn’t come out of the bathroom tasting of copper as it is. It’s almost my turn next. My back is killing me, my ass is still asleep, and my heart won’t stop ticking loudly from inside my chest.

By tonight we’ll make it to Sarah’s apartment in Denton. Her home. Our home. 

Sarah walks out of the shower and says, “There are like long long LONG black hairs all over our towels. No!” She laughs.

I’m up next!

-T.D.

P.S. Hopefully to that museum next, if I can get Sarah to stop worrying about money. I took all those extra shifts so we could enjoy this trip. I just know how much she loves Georgia O’Keeffe and I’d like to make her smile only a billion more times before we have to get all serious again.

Laters.

Travel Log #2

Our adventure begins!

BUT first a little recap of last night:

Sarah’s car was a right and giving bastard. I have to leave a box of children books (all those Dr. Seuss’s!), my collection of Calvin and Hobbes, and every single bit of my workout equipment. I’m fine with the weights, but damn ALL THOSE BOOKS are surely going to eat away at me while I’m so far away from them. Sarah was great in that she actually found a way for the rest of the books to fit. Bless her heart. I’m going to live with this woman for all my days, huh?

My mother and my aunt showed us how to scrub away battery acid from under Sarah’s hood. Both the tooth brush and plastic cup didn’t make it, but their sacrifices will not go in vain.

Sarah met a lady who gave advice on real estate. The woman took the time to show off some of her paintings. A bird, a painting of a picture of her daughter, and something else that I forget. While I was sent off to fetch more boxes of books, the woman convinced Sarah to give away one of her easels. It wouldn’t fit anyway due to all of the boxes of books. All I could think was this is the same woman who walks all the way from her section of the apartment complex to our side with her Chihuahuas and their willingness to bark nonstop at everyone, carrying a doggy bag only to never use it after they’ve taken a shit within smelling distance from our sitting quarters.

After a few tossed out comic books and not a single box (Tetris with books is a lot like the Endless version of Tetris: forever), we rested.

Or so we thought. Drinking and cooking and gosh – why all the shots? It was definitely memorable. I’m going to miss everyone. I may cry on this trip.  

Snapchat has all the ridiculousness. Our next door neighbor (this nice old lady) even got down and partied with us. We drank two bottles of some mango vodka – what? Why? And all that beer. The chicken and veggies didn’t help. Time for coffee. Coffee coffee coffee!

Now, I’m atop my bed with a headache and a resting beauty beside me. The adventure begins as soon as we nurse our hangovers. We gotta hurry, but if Sarahann keeps fidgeting her little toes against my leg as she sleeps – we just might have to wait a few more hours. I’m in no rush anyway. We’ll get where we gotta get when we gotta get there.

-T.D.

P.S. Sarah made all these peanut butter and sugar cookies the other day. I’ve gotta stop! Why must I be so simultaneously health conscious and a cookie fanatic? She cooks! She bakes! She feels so soft against my skin! She’s a damn hoot, too. Oh, damn. There is no hope for me, is there? 

Travel Log #1 

So this is it. Tomorrow morning my gal and I will be heading out from Las Vegas, Nevada to the state that we call home in Denton, Texas. Along the way we will likely visit a petrified forest, perhaps a museum featuring the work of Georgia O’Keeffe (!), and at least one hotel room if we can’t help it.

As I type this I prepare for my last workout before the trip – this may be my last workout for a long while if I don’t get a job soon enough to pay for a gym membership (rent being of more importance, so damn it all) – with a cup of coffee and a nibbling of a peanut butter cookie made so lovingly by my babe. We went to sleep arguing after watching the film Dear White People. I could have put money on that one I tell ya! She’s still asleep. We both need to get as much rest as we can before the trip. Afterward – after the trip – I will have traded my living space in the desert beside my mother and aunt for my woman’s college home (in a college town) beside two other ladies – my gal’s older sister and a cousin. I’ll be surrounded as I always have and that’ll be just fine.

This is Tristan Drue signing off. I’m feeling the coffee already. Time to get my muscles strained as a writer never has before. Then loading up the car. Making it up to the love of my life if she’ll hear what I have to say. And to say goodbye to my mother. We both aren’t ready for such a “so long and nice to see ya.” I’m on a journey to discover what kind of man I am, while she is slowly stepping toward her own independence. Good luck to us both.

Good luck to us all, my loves.

See you when I see you.

-T.D.

P.S. I’ve got new glasses (not shown in pic) at the insistence of my girlfriend, Sarahann. I’m feeling a little more confident in the drive now. It’s been – what? – like four or five years since I’ve had an eye exam. Blurry be gone!