I don't think I've ever run as good as I have the last 2k hands. Not at all in terms of all-in EV, just hitting flops and getting paid off, every hero call being correct, every bluff getting a fold. It was so extreme that I actually got kinda spooked and when i finally lost a couple decent pots in a row I shut down my session a little earlier than usual less the pendulum was due to swing the other way. Such acts of cowardice will not be okay should I take on the Supernova Elite pursuit.
Speaking of which, I've been having a hard time getting a sense for how hard it's going to be because my computer just can't handle the mass tabling. It's normally fine up to about a dozen, and sometimes more to like 15-16, but never beyond that. So I went down to the computer store today on West Broadway to get a quote for building a PC expressly for poker purposes.
It is honestly hard to believe, when you go into that computer store on West Broadway, that these are the actual people that work there. That it hasn't actually been staffed by a casting agency. Cause to the last man they fit the exact profile of what you would expect to encounter.
And to the last man, they definitely think I'm an idiot. It's not just that I don't know the answers, I don't even really know the questions. And as you stammer through trying to explain what you're looking for you get kind of nervous and start making less sense. Fortunately my particular Poindexter was gracious in his dismissiveness, so it wasn't too painful. My personal low light was when I was trying to ask if it came with WiFi and somehow ended up getting an explanation of how you have to call an Internet Service Provider, that the whole world wide web was not actually preloaded onto the computer.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
The Personal Trainer
After a long absence I went to see the personal trainer today. Every single time I go there I'm reminded at least twice (and most often more) of that scene in (the very underrated) Forgetting Sarah Marshall where Paul Rudd is trying to teach Jason Segel how to surf. If you haven't seen it, youtube it or something, or just see the whole movie. It's really funny, at least to people with good senses of humor.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Avert Your Glance, Reba, It's A Poker Blog
Had a +$1k day today on Stars, my best day since switching sites. Started the day on a mix of 50 and 100NL, but spent most of it on just 100NL (having crossed a threshold on my strict bankroll requirements). I did take a couple horrendous beats, the most heinous of which was when I flopped a set of 8's to my opponents set of 3's only to have him turn quads. That blew. But I can't complain cause I ran great overall.
One hand I opened 76s suited OTB. A guy who seemed like maybe a weak regular 3bet and I decided to take a flop as we were fairly deep. Flop came 568r, he cbet and I committed myself with a raise. He made a marginal (imo) but obviously correct shove with pocket 10's, and I caught a 4 on the river.
The biggest hand of the day I opened 88 from the CO and was 3bet by a guy OTB who had a huge VPIP but a tiny 3bet %. We were about 175BB deep. Easy call even out of position, and I loved the 854r flop. I c/c'd a the flop and checked again when another 5 hit the turn. After he bet again I as unsure what line was best, but ultimately I don't think it mattered. He was not capable of folding his overpair and I dragged a nice 350BB pot.
One hand I opened 76s suited OTB. A guy who seemed like maybe a weak regular 3bet and I decided to take a flop as we were fairly deep. Flop came 568r, he cbet and I committed myself with a raise. He made a marginal (imo) but obviously correct shove with pocket 10's, and I caught a 4 on the river.
The biggest hand of the day I opened 88 from the CO and was 3bet by a guy OTB who had a huge VPIP but a tiny 3bet %. We were about 175BB deep. Easy call even out of position, and I loved the 854r flop. I c/c'd a the flop and checked again when another 5 hit the turn. After he bet again I as unsure what line was best, but ultimately I don't think it mattered. He was not capable of folding his overpair and I dragged a nice 350BB pot.
Maybe Moving
So the spousal unit and me have been vaguely considering moving since we got the good news. If you don't know, we live in a very small condo right downtown Vancouver. We want to stay downtown, and as the average cost of a condo down here is ~$600/sq foot, moving into a bigger place is cost prohibitive. We've gone back and forth between throwing poor prudence to the wind to buy a bigger place, and trying to convince ourselves that in many cultures it's perfectly normal to raise a child in a 600 sq ft condo.
About a week ago, I remember lying in bed discussing these matters, and we came to some sort of resolution that we'd just stay where we are. Somehow about 36 hours after that we had officially made an offer on an 1100 sq ft behemoth a couple blocks over (it's a slightly older building in need of some reno's and stuff, so it was a relative steal). Perhaps fortunately, the offer was rebuked and we declined to take them up on their counter offer. Which was, incidentally, the asking price. Doesn't seem like much of a negotiation. I thought it was supposed to go, you know, they ask for four, we offer two, we agree on three. But it was more like: Four. Two? Four. Three? Four. Fuck it.
It was almost the ultimate impulse buy, and though I guess it wasn't meant to me, it did push us over the fence on this matter and we're now officially looking for a new abode. I still think it's only 50/50 we'll end up moving, but we're full speed ahead for the moment. As I'm heading out of town in a couple weeks and have a fairly heavy schedule till October, and Rachel's due Hallowe'en, it pretty much has to happen very soon (or else not till next spring or something). So our place is listed, apparently the real estate agent's phone is ringing off the hook on it (it's definitely a seller's market, as evidence by the owner's flexibility when we made our offer), and I have to vacate the premises at various times tomorrow so the agent can show strangers around our four rooms (counting the bathroom, but not counting the walk-in closet). Then there's an open house on the weekend, at which point we hope people work themselves up into some sort of bidding war. Not that there'll be too much joy over it, tho, because it probably means that's what we'll be facing when we make our next offer.
Anyway, the last two days has been domestic overload as we prepare the place for public viewing. We could have gotten things ship shape in a superficial way fairly quickly. But mindful of a potential looming move and feeling overdue on some projects anyway, we set about sorting, disposing of, and/or filing the endless boxes of papers and mail and foreign coins and guitar picks and casino chips and road receipts and business cards and myriad, often unidentifiable, objects that filled nook and cranny round here over the past couple years. So it was a major job. We even reorganized the storage space down on P4, if you can believe that shit. But it's done and it feels really good. Even though I'm pretty sure I'm gonna regret about half the stuff I threw out.
I've probably played about 8 hours of poker over the last couple days. Mainly working on getting comfortable up around 20 tables. Have some computer issues to deal with, and testing out different AHK software and the like, but on a decision making level I definitely feel I can handle the tables. Right now I'm about a 5BB/100 winner over a medium-sized sample (about 40k hands playing 15+ tables at a time). I don't think that's sustainable, and in fact it's only 3bb/100 at 100NL (the rest is at 50NL) which is probably a more accurate reflection of where I'm at. But if I could get in enough hands to make Supernova Elite next year while posting a winrate of even a couple BB/100 at 100 and 200NL, I'd be pretty freaking happy. I think it's doable, but I've got a lot of time before I have to really decide.
Also visited my Dad in the hospital today and took him to Coquitlam Center to get his eye glasses fixed and for New York Fries. He seemed better than he has to me in quite a while. The hospital agrees with him, even if he clearly does not agree with it.
Had a first thing this morning dentist appointment that was horrific, exactly what I imagine it's going to be like when I neglect making an appointment. The regular girl is great, but they had a sub. And man, she destroyed me. I thought I was gonna puke for about an hour after and my teeth still ache now, 18 hours later. I asked the receptionist on the way out if I could make sure I had my regular girl next time, and she said sure and told me this lady was a temp. And I said, "oh really? she was terrible". The receptionist looked strangely downtrodden after this remark, which made me feel bad and wonder if the receptionist and the terrible sub were related. Or maybe there were lovers. I know how those hygienists roll.
Oh, and I went to Whatever Works, the new Woody Allen movie starring Larry David. Man, that Larry David sure can't act. What he can do is spit out vitriolic insults with great verve. Or elan. Is that a word? Some word like that, anyway.
Overall it was amusing, which given Woody Allen's wild swings in quality, is a not bad result. Though I did find it odd that for all the pretense of verbal word play and the stage-like mood to things, most of the laughs did not come from a very cerebral place. Larry David ranting at an 8 year-old kid is pretty fun, it turns out. Just like it's pretty fun when Adam Sandler and Bob Barker fight in Happy Gilmore. Doesn't make it smart.
If Woody Allen's entire filmography somehow didn't exist, if this was his debut, it'd probably be considered a 4-star movie. As it is, it's like two stars. Which, you know, I don't if that's fair. What's he supposed to do? How do you quit making Woody Allen-esque movies when you're Woody Allen. In fairness, he has branched out and made some decidedly less Allen-esque movies, and not all of them suck. But he oughta be allowed to come home to roost, don't you think? Still, try as I might, I can't imagine his other movies not existing, so I'm stuck at 2 stars for Whatever Works. Sorry Woody.
About a week ago, I remember lying in bed discussing these matters, and we came to some sort of resolution that we'd just stay where we are. Somehow about 36 hours after that we had officially made an offer on an 1100 sq ft behemoth a couple blocks over (it's a slightly older building in need of some reno's and stuff, so it was a relative steal). Perhaps fortunately, the offer was rebuked and we declined to take them up on their counter offer. Which was, incidentally, the asking price. Doesn't seem like much of a negotiation. I thought it was supposed to go, you know, they ask for four, we offer two, we agree on three. But it was more like: Four. Two? Four. Three? Four. Fuck it.
It was almost the ultimate impulse buy, and though I guess it wasn't meant to me, it did push us over the fence on this matter and we're now officially looking for a new abode. I still think it's only 50/50 we'll end up moving, but we're full speed ahead for the moment. As I'm heading out of town in a couple weeks and have a fairly heavy schedule till October, and Rachel's due Hallowe'en, it pretty much has to happen very soon (or else not till next spring or something). So our place is listed, apparently the real estate agent's phone is ringing off the hook on it (it's definitely a seller's market, as evidence by the owner's flexibility when we made our offer), and I have to vacate the premises at various times tomorrow so the agent can show strangers around our four rooms (counting the bathroom, but not counting the walk-in closet). Then there's an open house on the weekend, at which point we hope people work themselves up into some sort of bidding war. Not that there'll be too much joy over it, tho, because it probably means that's what we'll be facing when we make our next offer.
Anyway, the last two days has been domestic overload as we prepare the place for public viewing. We could have gotten things ship shape in a superficial way fairly quickly. But mindful of a potential looming move and feeling overdue on some projects anyway, we set about sorting, disposing of, and/or filing the endless boxes of papers and mail and foreign coins and guitar picks and casino chips and road receipts and business cards and myriad, often unidentifiable, objects that filled nook and cranny round here over the past couple years. So it was a major job. We even reorganized the storage space down on P4, if you can believe that shit. But it's done and it feels really good. Even though I'm pretty sure I'm gonna regret about half the stuff I threw out.
I've probably played about 8 hours of poker over the last couple days. Mainly working on getting comfortable up around 20 tables. Have some computer issues to deal with, and testing out different AHK software and the like, but on a decision making level I definitely feel I can handle the tables. Right now I'm about a 5BB/100 winner over a medium-sized sample (about 40k hands playing 15+ tables at a time). I don't think that's sustainable, and in fact it's only 3bb/100 at 100NL (the rest is at 50NL) which is probably a more accurate reflection of where I'm at. But if I could get in enough hands to make Supernova Elite next year while posting a winrate of even a couple BB/100 at 100 and 200NL, I'd be pretty freaking happy. I think it's doable, but I've got a lot of time before I have to really decide.
Also visited my Dad in the hospital today and took him to Coquitlam Center to get his eye glasses fixed and for New York Fries. He seemed better than he has to me in quite a while. The hospital agrees with him, even if he clearly does not agree with it.
Had a first thing this morning dentist appointment that was horrific, exactly what I imagine it's going to be like when I neglect making an appointment. The regular girl is great, but they had a sub. And man, she destroyed me. I thought I was gonna puke for about an hour after and my teeth still ache now, 18 hours later. I asked the receptionist on the way out if I could make sure I had my regular girl next time, and she said sure and told me this lady was a temp. And I said, "oh really? she was terrible". The receptionist looked strangely downtrodden after this remark, which made me feel bad and wonder if the receptionist and the terrible sub were related. Or maybe there were lovers. I know how those hygienists roll.
Oh, and I went to Whatever Works, the new Woody Allen movie starring Larry David. Man, that Larry David sure can't act. What he can do is spit out vitriolic insults with great verve. Or elan. Is that a word? Some word like that, anyway.
Overall it was amusing, which given Woody Allen's wild swings in quality, is a not bad result. Though I did find it odd that for all the pretense of verbal word play and the stage-like mood to things, most of the laughs did not come from a very cerebral place. Larry David ranting at an 8 year-old kid is pretty fun, it turns out. Just like it's pretty fun when Adam Sandler and Bob Barker fight in Happy Gilmore. Doesn't make it smart.
If Woody Allen's entire filmography somehow didn't exist, if this was his debut, it'd probably be considered a 4-star movie. As it is, it's like two stars. Which, you know, I don't if that's fair. What's he supposed to do? How do you quit making Woody Allen-esque movies when you're Woody Allen. In fairness, he has branched out and made some decidedly less Allen-esque movies, and not all of them suck. But he oughta be allowed to come home to roost, don't you think? Still, try as I might, I can't imagine his other movies not existing, so I'm stuck at 2 stars for Whatever Works. Sorry Woody.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Rocking Hard Or Hardly Rocking?
It's hard to know sometimes. Tonight we were the fourth and final band in this outdoor Amphitheater in central Washington state. Quite a nice set up, beautiful evening and all that, but they ran it festival style so there was no sound check. The in-ear monitors didn't get wired correctly so we couldn't hear shit. Well, it was different for everyone, but all I could hear was Jason's banjo and Trevor's vocal. Helluva concert.
If the in-ears go bad (like your battery dies) in a club it's not that bad, you still hear the mains. But at outdoor shows it's downright brutal. The front of house speakers are far enough ahead of you, and the sound doesn't bounce back against anything, to the point where you can't even tell if things are on. It's just a terrible overall experience, although almost always you find out later that people in the audience were fully unaware that you felt like you were drowning all night. It's still rock and roll, I guess, even if the band can't tell.
Crap ass internet at the hotel. Good enough to post a blog, obviously, but not pokerz worthy. It brings to mind the SuperNova Elite plan, on account of there are gonna be days like this where I just can't play at all. But for today, anyway, it's good timing. I've been running on fumes in the sleep department, but I'd probably play at least three or four hours if there was good internet. Actually, it probably is good enough to play a little bit, maybe 6 or 8 tables. But I played last night on sketchy internet and had my first bad session since starting the Stars experiment (bad in terms of how I played, not necessarily results). I realized the shit internet does get kind of tilting, takes me out of focus, so I'm going to try and avoid that as much as possible. Or, at least, tonight.
If the in-ears go bad (like your battery dies) in a club it's not that bad, you still hear the mains. But at outdoor shows it's downright brutal. The front of house speakers are far enough ahead of you, and the sound doesn't bounce back against anything, to the point where you can't even tell if things are on. It's just a terrible overall experience, although almost always you find out later that people in the audience were fully unaware that you felt like you were drowning all night. It's still rock and roll, I guess, even if the band can't tell.
Crap ass internet at the hotel. Good enough to post a blog, obviously, but not pokerz worthy. It brings to mind the SuperNova Elite plan, on account of there are gonna be days like this where I just can't play at all. But for today, anyway, it's good timing. I've been running on fumes in the sleep department, but I'd probably play at least three or four hours if there was good internet. Actually, it probably is good enough to play a little bit, maybe 6 or 8 tables. But I played last night on sketchy internet and had my first bad session since starting the Stars experiment (bad in terms of how I played, not necessarily results). I realized the shit internet does get kind of tilting, takes me out of focus, so I'm going to try and avoid that as much as possible. Or, at least, tonight.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Coming Out Of A Funk
I've been grumpy lately. Trying not to be, I swear. But I just have had this very short fuse, where everything might be going along fine and something relatively minor happens and I'm just instantly in a piss poor mood. Reminds me of a few periods in my life where things were kind of shit, and you can divert yourself from it for a bit, but ultimately it's always hanging over your head. Only things aren't shit.
But they are, I guess, stressful. Lots going on. Lots of stuff that, on the surface at least, seems worth furrowing your brow over. For whatever reason, though, I think I'm coming out of it. Cross your fingers (if not for my sake, for the sake of my life and travel companions).
One unfortunate byproduct of my recent mood is I just feel zero motivation to exercise. As exercising is a great way to enhance your mood, this obviously creates a circle that, while maybe not quite vicious, definitely has a bite. I didn't even pack workout gear for this brief little road trip we're on now. It's not a good sign if you can't even be bothered to pretend you might workout. I do have my running shoes with me, on account of I was wearing shorts and the Spanish Flip Flops were giving me blisters. So if we find time I think I will go out for a quick jog in just whatever clothes I can afford to sweatify. I am pretty sure that the schedule won't allow it, but at least I'm back to pretending I might. Baby steps, people.
But they are, I guess, stressful. Lots going on. Lots of stuff that, on the surface at least, seems worth furrowing your brow over. For whatever reason, though, I think I'm coming out of it. Cross your fingers (if not for my sake, for the sake of my life and travel companions).
One unfortunate byproduct of my recent mood is I just feel zero motivation to exercise. As exercising is a great way to enhance your mood, this obviously creates a circle that, while maybe not quite vicious, definitely has a bite. I didn't even pack workout gear for this brief little road trip we're on now. It's not a good sign if you can't even be bothered to pretend you might workout. I do have my running shoes with me, on account of I was wearing shorts and the Spanish Flip Flops were giving me blisters. So if we find time I think I will go out for a quick jog in just whatever clothes I can afford to sweatify. I am pretty sure that the schedule won't allow it, but at least I'm back to pretending I might. Baby steps, people.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Thinking About Supernova Elite
I got so annoyed with FT and their software update problems that I pulled my roll. Had been messing around with some Eurosites but so far can't get comfortable with their software (although I should probably try harder, but w/e) so suddenly I'm on PokerStars.
I've kinda thought about going for Supernova Elite before, almost as a personal challenge, but now that I'm actually playing on Stars I'm pretty seriously considering it. For those of you not in the poker world, that's a reward system related to volume of play. If you hit a certain number of points within the calendar year you'll have over six figures in bonuses. So basically if you even break even in the games, it's a decent income. If you can eke out 1ptbb/100 or something like that, it starts being a pretty dang good income.
If you can extreme multi-table (like ~20 tables) at 200NL 6max it's not as much play as I would have thought. But going through the endless 2+2 threads on the pursuit, people burn out pretty bad. And the fact is out of the hundreds of thousands of people who play on PokerStars, only 100 or so make it to Elite. Considering there's some pretty serious grinders out there, that's a surprisingly small number.
I don't think I would burn out on the actual play, I just think I might burn out on the pursuit. Especially with a new baby about. But at the same time, a 'guaranteed' six figures for roughly half the hours of a regular full-time job is kinda hard to ignore. I mean, baby's gotta eat.
It would start January 1, so I have a lot of time to consider it. Mainly I think I should do it, yet I have an overwhelming sense I would regret it. So we'll see. I'll probably do a couple 'test runs', getting the required points for like a week, and see how it feels.
I've kinda thought about going for Supernova Elite before, almost as a personal challenge, but now that I'm actually playing on Stars I'm pretty seriously considering it. For those of you not in the poker world, that's a reward system related to volume of play. If you hit a certain number of points within the calendar year you'll have over six figures in bonuses. So basically if you even break even in the games, it's a decent income. If you can eke out 1ptbb/100 or something like that, it starts being a pretty dang good income.
If you can extreme multi-table (like ~20 tables) at 200NL 6max it's not as much play as I would have thought. But going through the endless 2+2 threads on the pursuit, people burn out pretty bad. And the fact is out of the hundreds of thousands of people who play on PokerStars, only 100 or so make it to Elite. Considering there's some pretty serious grinders out there, that's a surprisingly small number.
I don't think I would burn out on the actual play, I just think I might burn out on the pursuit. Especially with a new baby about. But at the same time, a 'guaranteed' six figures for roughly half the hours of a regular full-time job is kinda hard to ignore. I mean, baby's gotta eat.
It would start January 1, so I have a lot of time to consider it. Mainly I think I should do it, yet I have an overwhelming sense I would regret it. So we'll see. I'll probably do a couple 'test runs', getting the required points for like a week, and see how it feels.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Time Travel
I flew from SLC to Pocatello on the Enola Gay the other day. I swear. Or maybe the Spruce Goose. One of the two. It was me and a bunch of mormons returning from their missions. They were in sharp suits, straight out of Mad Men. The plane's ceiling was about five feet high. I don't think they had tall people yet back when it was made. It didn't crash, but it really seemed like it wanted to. It's probably tired.
When we got to the Pocatello airport, which is impossibly small, there were just tons of people there welcoming home the mormon missionaries. They had signs and flowers. I watched one mormon missionary have an awkward hug/handshake with his grandfather. It was sweet. I wish I had a living grandfather to awkwardly hug.
I did have three band members come to pick me up/go to Sizzler. Later I tried to go to Harry Potter, not because I wanted to but because I didn't want not to. There was a huge line, tho, so instead we went to Monsters versus Aliens at the cheap theater. June Carter Cash was looking good in that one.
When we got to the Pocatello airport, which is impossibly small, there were just tons of people there welcoming home the mormon missionaries. They had signs and flowers. I watched one mormon missionary have an awkward hug/handshake with his grandfather. It was sweet. I wish I had a living grandfather to awkwardly hug.
I did have three band members come to pick me up/go to Sizzler. Later I tried to go to Harry Potter, not because I wanted to but because I didn't want not to. There was a huge line, tho, so instead we went to Monsters versus Aliens at the cheap theater. June Carter Cash was looking good in that one.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Sleepless In Montana
I had about four hours of potential sleep between returning from the gig and my wake up call this morning. I realized approximately 0% of that potential. The upside, as I sit in the Bozeman airport, is that I’ll probably sleep through the flights, reducing somewhat the drudgery of air travel. The downside is pretty much everything else.
There were a few reasons I couldn’t get to sleep. Of course my general tendency to get my AM’s and PM’s mixed up, mentioned briefly last blog, factors in. The fact that it was a gazillion degrees in the hotel room. That I was tremendously worried about missing my flight. That I had a nap in the van en route to Bozeman in the afternoon. But by far the biggest factor was that I got deep into the ‘bad thoughts’ part of my brain.
The starting point was reflecting on the gig. It was a private gig, and on the surface it was okay. Good food and drink, we were well paid, and the crowd was reasonably intent on partying. Should have been a cake walk, but for some reason it kind of soured within the band, and we actually had cross words with each other. Which is very uncharacteristic, but at the same time probably unavoidable from time to time. Realistically, it’s a shocker it doesn’t happen much more often. But what really got me, in reflecting on the gig, was the vague sense that at some point I had called out “I’ve Just Seen A Face” by The Beatles. That recollection brought to mind two questions: Why on earth would I have had us play that song? And why couldn’t I really remember playing it?
I had consumed some wine, but I didn’t think that much. I’m not a heavy drinker, tho, so I’m quite easily affected. Still, to not be able to recall that (and other things) just doesn’t make sense to me. I have this overall feeling that I didn’t even play the gig, that I only observed parts of it, and that I was similarly an observer, not a player, in the heated band conversations. It’s a very weird feeling, fuelled undoubtedly in part by my overtired state, but I don’t think fully so. In any event, I really don’t like it. In fact, I find it sickening.
Feeling sickened, then, my mind naturally produced a litany of concerns to correlate with how I was feeling. The usual suspects, you know? A (presumably natural) series of concerns regarding my pending fatherhood. Worries over the ridiculous and seemingly never-ending odyssey of hardship my parents have endured the past year or so. And worries about my ability to continue to earn a decent living.
I would, theoretically, recommend either of my current vocations to anyone (with the obvious and necessary caveat that there is some reason to expect some degree of profitably). I need to proactively remind myself of that, tho, cause I sometimes have occasion to think that in spite of the freedoms and exhilirations I get from my jobs, I’d be better off delivering pizzas. Or being a laywer. Or a mall security guard. Or, like Michael Scott opines in the office, living on a beach off a large inheritance.
There were a few reasons I couldn’t get to sleep. Of course my general tendency to get my AM’s and PM’s mixed up, mentioned briefly last blog, factors in. The fact that it was a gazillion degrees in the hotel room. That I was tremendously worried about missing my flight. That I had a nap in the van en route to Bozeman in the afternoon. But by far the biggest factor was that I got deep into the ‘bad thoughts’ part of my brain.
The starting point was reflecting on the gig. It was a private gig, and on the surface it was okay. Good food and drink, we were well paid, and the crowd was reasonably intent on partying. Should have been a cake walk, but for some reason it kind of soured within the band, and we actually had cross words with each other. Which is very uncharacteristic, but at the same time probably unavoidable from time to time. Realistically, it’s a shocker it doesn’t happen much more often. But what really got me, in reflecting on the gig, was the vague sense that at some point I had called out “I’ve Just Seen A Face” by The Beatles. That recollection brought to mind two questions: Why on earth would I have had us play that song? And why couldn’t I really remember playing it?
I had consumed some wine, but I didn’t think that much. I’m not a heavy drinker, tho, so I’m quite easily affected. Still, to not be able to recall that (and other things) just doesn’t make sense to me. I have this overall feeling that I didn’t even play the gig, that I only observed parts of it, and that I was similarly an observer, not a player, in the heated band conversations. It’s a very weird feeling, fuelled undoubtedly in part by my overtired state, but I don’t think fully so. In any event, I really don’t like it. In fact, I find it sickening.
Feeling sickened, then, my mind naturally produced a litany of concerns to correlate with how I was feeling. The usual suspects, you know? A (presumably natural) series of concerns regarding my pending fatherhood. Worries over the ridiculous and seemingly never-ending odyssey of hardship my parents have endured the past year or so. And worries about my ability to continue to earn a decent living.
I would, theoretically, recommend either of my current vocations to anyone (with the obvious and necessary caveat that there is some reason to expect some degree of profitably). I need to proactively remind myself of that, tho, cause I sometimes have occasion to think that in spite of the freedoms and exhilirations I get from my jobs, I’d be better off delivering pizzas. Or being a laywer. Or a mall security guard. Or, like Michael Scott opines in the office, living on a beach off a large inheritance.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Sleep
As in, what I should be doing right now.
Trevor's wife and kid arrived on the road today. And Amanda (the wife) was saying how Levi (the kid) already seems, at six weeks old, to have his day and night sorted out, he already does the lion's share of his sleeping in the wee hours. And I was thinking how ridiculous it is that I've been on earth, like what, 300 times as long as he has? And he's already ahead of me on that front. Some guys have all the luck.
Trevor's wife and kid arrived on the road today. And Amanda (the wife) was saying how Levi (the kid) already seems, at six weeks old, to have his day and night sorted out, he already does the lion's share of his sleeping in the wee hours. And I was thinking how ridiculous it is that I've been on earth, like what, 300 times as long as he has? And he's already ahead of me on that front. Some guys have all the luck.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
I'm The Angel Of Death
At least to Montana wildlife.
It's surprising, with the sheer number of miles we drive, that we aren't responsible for more roadkill. The only incident I really remember is way back in the day (we're talking the 90's here) a bird hit our windshield. Its soul went on to meet it's maker, but it's body got caught up in our windshield wiper. So we pulled over, and actually buried it and made a little cross. I can't remember if somebody in our group thought that was the right thing to do, or if it was supposed to be ironic. I just remember that's what we did.
Other than that, we definitely take out an insane amount of bugs, but I think we've left most creatures much bigger than that alone.
Friday night, after a sometimes surreal but definitely fun evening in Roundup, MT (I hadn't heard of it either), we had about a 200 mile drive to Helena. Post-gig drives used to happen a lot, but they're mainly a thing of the past. They're just not that pleasant, and they're probably not as safe as daytime driving either. But there weren't hotels available in Roundup, and it was a relatively early show (although we ended up not getting out of town till about 11:30pm), so we figured we may as well go for it.
Incident #1 came about 30 minutes in. A merry family of raccoons decided life would be even sweeter on the other side of the highway, so they made a mad dash. I was probably the only car within five miles of them. So on the one hand I can understand their complacency about crossing, but on the other hand I just wonder why they couldn't have waited just a moment or two. I tried some evasive maneuvers, but there were too many of them and we heard the sickening thump of at least one (I kinda think two) raccoons meeting an untimely end.
A few hours (and a small town speeding ticket, from a lady in a sweater who I am reasonably sure was in fact a cop) later, Incident #2. Everybody was sleeping except for Trevor, who was valiantly trying to assist in my efforts to not drive off the road. Suddenly a creature appeared in our headlights. Trevor thinks it was like a groundhog or something. I saw it as more a rabbit or cat. Whatever it was, it is no longer.
You know, they always tell you not to swerve if you see wildlife. Partly (probably mainly) because you don't want to either hit traffic coming the other way, or put yourself in the ditch, or whatever. But also, in my experience, a lot of these critters will get out of your way if you let 'em. If you swerve maybe you create like when you're trying to walk past someone and you both keep adjusting into each other's paths. But I think, ultimately, it's a group effort. I try to miss them, they try to miss me, and we get there together. I'm not sure what went wrong this night. Whether because i was on the tired side I didn't adjust as quickly, or if it was just bad luck. In any event, it really sucks. In the words of Gordon Gano, "We don't want no killin', Lord". I especially don't want to do none my own self.
It's surprising, with the sheer number of miles we drive, that we aren't responsible for more roadkill. The only incident I really remember is way back in the day (we're talking the 90's here) a bird hit our windshield. Its soul went on to meet it's maker, but it's body got caught up in our windshield wiper. So we pulled over, and actually buried it and made a little cross. I can't remember if somebody in our group thought that was the right thing to do, or if it was supposed to be ironic. I just remember that's what we did.
Other than that, we definitely take out an insane amount of bugs, but I think we've left most creatures much bigger than that alone.
Friday night, after a sometimes surreal but definitely fun evening in Roundup, MT (I hadn't heard of it either), we had about a 200 mile drive to Helena. Post-gig drives used to happen a lot, but they're mainly a thing of the past. They're just not that pleasant, and they're probably not as safe as daytime driving either. But there weren't hotels available in Roundup, and it was a relatively early show (although we ended up not getting out of town till about 11:30pm), so we figured we may as well go for it.
Incident #1 came about 30 minutes in. A merry family of raccoons decided life would be even sweeter on the other side of the highway, so they made a mad dash. I was probably the only car within five miles of them. So on the one hand I can understand their complacency about crossing, but on the other hand I just wonder why they couldn't have waited just a moment or two. I tried some evasive maneuvers, but there were too many of them and we heard the sickening thump of at least one (I kinda think two) raccoons meeting an untimely end.
A few hours (and a small town speeding ticket, from a lady in a sweater who I am reasonably sure was in fact a cop) later, Incident #2. Everybody was sleeping except for Trevor, who was valiantly trying to assist in my efforts to not drive off the road. Suddenly a creature appeared in our headlights. Trevor thinks it was like a groundhog or something. I saw it as more a rabbit or cat. Whatever it was, it is no longer.
You know, they always tell you not to swerve if you see wildlife. Partly (probably mainly) because you don't want to either hit traffic coming the other way, or put yourself in the ditch, or whatever. But also, in my experience, a lot of these critters will get out of your way if you let 'em. If you swerve maybe you create like when you're trying to walk past someone and you both keep adjusting into each other's paths. But I think, ultimately, it's a group effort. I try to miss them, they try to miss me, and we get there together. I'm not sure what went wrong this night. Whether because i was on the tired side I didn't adjust as quickly, or if it was just bad luck. In any event, it really sucks. In the words of Gordon Gano, "We don't want no killin', Lord". I especially don't want to do none my own self.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Poker Reversal Of Fortune
I’m reticent to even mention it, lest I jinx myself, but there has been a massive turnaround in the poker outlook. I’m not sure if it came across fully in previous blogs, but it was going quite badly. Wouldn’t say disastrously, because my real life bottom line wasn’t adversely affected, but I just couldn’t win. And worse, I knew I was playing bad. My online bankroll was getting quite small, I moved down to 50NL for the first time in a very long time, and still lost my first few sessions there.
Few days ago I started rewatching a series of videos that had been quite helpful for me a while ago, caused a real breakthrough inmy game at the time. I’m only halfway through the second of five, but so far it’s been a series of lights going on. I had definitely drifted away from my game plan, and even though on the forums or whatever I still knew what was right, in actual games I was constantly putting myself in situations where I ultimately had to run well to win. And as I was definitely not running well by any definition, the end result was not pretty.
Somehow just watching the videos (I guess in combination with knowing deep down that I was pretty off track) has seemingly instantly righted the ship. I’ve played eight sessions since then, and booked a winner every time. Not huge winners, but about 20 buy-ins overall. That’s pretty big cumulatively, and it is downright massive when compared with how it was trending previously.
Of course, you don't win eight consecutive sessions without running well. Which I definitely, suddenly, am. Although with the exception of one massive suckout (I got it in with AJ BVB against a very aggressive guy, he had AA -- somehow by the end of the hand there were two jacks on board), I haven't been coming from behind to win or anything. More just my big hands holding up against fish. But the results aren't the most important part. What matters is I feel like I'm playing my best again. It's a great relief.
Few days ago I started rewatching a series of videos that had been quite helpful for me a while ago, caused a real breakthrough inmy game at the time. I’m only halfway through the second of five, but so far it’s been a series of lights going on. I had definitely drifted away from my game plan, and even though on the forums or whatever I still knew what was right, in actual games I was constantly putting myself in situations where I ultimately had to run well to win. And as I was definitely not running well by any definition, the end result was not pretty.
Somehow just watching the videos (I guess in combination with knowing deep down that I was pretty off track) has seemingly instantly righted the ship. I’ve played eight sessions since then, and booked a winner every time. Not huge winners, but about 20 buy-ins overall. That’s pretty big cumulatively, and it is downright massive when compared with how it was trending previously.
Of course, you don't win eight consecutive sessions without running well. Which I definitely, suddenly, am. Although with the exception of one massive suckout (I got it in with AJ BVB against a very aggressive guy, he had AA -- somehow by the end of the hand there were two jacks on board), I haven't been coming from behind to win or anything. More just my big hands holding up against fish. But the results aren't the most important part. What matters is I feel like I'm playing my best again. It's a great relief.
Facebook Is Too Fast
So me & me mates were back at the shack we had Spike Jones on the box, and Trevor turns to me and says, ‘So Rachel’s running with the Olympic Torch!” And I’m like, “What?”
And then a split second later my phone vibrates with a text and it’s from Rachel, ‘call me, what are you doing January 27?’. She had gotten the very exciting news she had been chosen to run a stretch of the torch relay, posted it on facebook, and then immediately texted me. She had wanted to break the news to me directly, but sadly if you post in on facebook first, telling me immediately afterwards is not fast enough.
I feigned some outrage that I had to find out second hand, but truthfully I’m used to it. Trevor is a facebook fiend, and I am a facebook abstainer, so I fairly often get news of people in my life second hand through him. I should probably participate, but I just can’t get into it. I do have an account. I probably check it once a month. Probably actually respond to stuff, accept friend requests, etc, every six months or so. I’d obviously be better off just not having a profile at all, instead of just being a non-responsive asshole, but I do keep thinking one day I’ll develop a desire to facebook it up. Realistically, it’s not very likely, but you never know.
In the meantime, I’ll just keep checking for updates from Trev. If Rachel goes into labor or something, I’m sure he’ll let me know.
And then a split second later my phone vibrates with a text and it’s from Rachel, ‘call me, what are you doing January 27?’. She had gotten the very exciting news she had been chosen to run a stretch of the torch relay, posted it on facebook, and then immediately texted me. She had wanted to break the news to me directly, but sadly if you post in on facebook first, telling me immediately afterwards is not fast enough.
I feigned some outrage that I had to find out second hand, but truthfully I’m used to it. Trevor is a facebook fiend, and I am a facebook abstainer, so I fairly often get news of people in my life second hand through him. I should probably participate, but I just can’t get into it. I do have an account. I probably check it once a month. Probably actually respond to stuff, accept friend requests, etc, every six months or so. I’d obviously be better off just not having a profile at all, instead of just being a non-responsive asshole, but I do keep thinking one day I’ll develop a desire to facebook it up. Realistically, it’s not very likely, but you never know.
In the meantime, I’ll just keep checking for updates from Trev. If Rachel goes into labor or something, I’m sure he’ll let me know.
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