Reading/Listening, Poker

Reading: A collection of poems by Wallace Stevens. I'm on page 124/251. I don't like some of the poems as much as I remember. I've already read most of this book for a class on poetry, but I never finished it. My favorite poem is still The Emperor of Ice Cream. It is great. I finished a book by Charles Bukowski called The Captain is Out to Lunch and the Sailors Have Taken Over the Ship. It is just a collection of his journals, but they are hilarious. I think I write vaguely like him, and we share the same disenchantment with the human race. Albeit Bukowski is a tad bit more bitter than I am, and he seems to have lost the hope for humanity that I still hold on to. Maybe he had some extra insight that I am missing because he was near to his own death when he wrote the book. Who knows. I think it was a good way to get into his writing because it really got me into his head.

Listening: Millionaire by Kelis featuring Andre 3000. The heavy electronic influence in this song makes my nipples tingle. The lyrics are a great blend of Kelis' smoky, sexy voice weaving itself in and out of the music and Andre 3000 stomping on the flow for an all-too-brief solo in the middle of the track. Even his staccato rhyme still manages to wrap itself in the great musical blanket. This is one of the best produced tracks that I've ever heard. There are thirty-eight different ways that the song could have been garbage, but whatever genius put this song together tiptoed through the minefield. Awesome song.

I'm trying to follow Jesus Ferguson's ride from $0 to $10,000. He laid out a bunch of bankroll management rules that he stuck to religiously (pun intended) on his way to a stack of high society. What this means for me is that with my $140ish bankroll, I have to play $.02/$.05 NLHE with $5 and cash out if I hit $15. I won big (relatively speaking) one night but have gotten beat the past couple, so I think I'm only up like $2 if anything over 3-4 sessions. Ferguson took $150 to $10,000 in 9 months. Granted, I'm not going to play as often as he did, but if I do it in a year I'll be happy. Fuck, if I do it at all I'll be happy. Wish me luck.

More Posts to Come

I was going to post tonight, but by the time I got home and ate it was way too late for me to try and use my brain in any meaningful way. I did want to put in writing that I have more posts coming about: old lady in the Denver airport, my thoughts on how airports should work, and that's all I can remember right now because my weekend is catching up with me.

Blogs to Come...

So, I've been very busy these past ten days. I'm running my buttocks off trying to get ready to leave for Vegas on the 20th, and other things have popped up. My parents made a surprise visit that I hadn't budgeted time for, as well as a Saturday night that went horribly wrong and cost me all of my sleep on my weekend off. It didn't go horribly wrong as in jail or injury, it went horribly wrong as in the universe conspired to keep me up all night. Blog posts to follow this week/weekend: Saturday Night, Match Day, Reading/Listening, Sheets, Long Work Days, and probably others. For now, this is what you get.

Reading/Listening, Car, Stuff, Poker

Reading: The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo, page 113/197. The story interests me, but it gets to be a little over the top sometimes. Coehlo definitely shows more than he tells. Descriptions are sparse and anemic, which leaves takes something away from it for me. I just finished a section wherein the main character visited an opulent tent. I wanted the description to make me feel the sense of awe that the main character had to have been feeling, but it didn't get me there. This was what I got: "The ground was covered with the most beautiful carpets he had ever walked upon, and from the top of the structure hung lamps of handwrought gold, each with a lighted candle." The story intrigues me though as I'm just getting to know the Alchemist, and I have the feeling that he is going to be an interesting gentleman.

Listening: I can't stop listening to The Train by Big Boi and Khujo Goodie off of the Idlewild soundtrack. First of all, I think I want Big Boi to give the eulogy at my funeral because I love the dude's voice. Secondly, the music makes me feel happy. Not happy necessarily, but I get this warm feeling, the type that you get when you know everything is going to be ok. Thirdly, people like things in threes, but I don't have another point. When I woke up this morning, I had the conscious thought "I want to hear that song right now," and I think my repeat count is on nine so far. Overall, the Idlewild soundtrack wasn't all that stellar, but there were a few jewels on it. This is one of them.

My car is making a bad noise. It sounds like somebody is flying a turbo-prop plane fifty feet above my car. It's going into the shop tomorrow night. I hope nothing major is wrong with it because I really like Monique and do not want her to go to the mechanic and die. For those of you thinking that I've lost it, Monique is the name of my car. You're probably right, though, I have probably lost it. It was fun while I had it. Anyway, car equals sick. I'll update later this week when I get the diagnosis from the car doctor.

A collage of my week, in no particular order: Brandon came up and we went out to eat with my parents; I've apparently been living very cheaply because I have way more money in my bill account than I thought I did, that or I didn't pay a bill; eleven days until I go visit Virginia in Vegas again; I have the next TWO weekends off in a row, I have no idea what to do with myself; one of the girls I work with had a miscarriage this week, she has been in my thoughts a lot; I've had odd dreams about random people from my past in weird situations, breaking their hips and blaming me, etc; my weight is down to around 190, down from 197 a couple of weeks ago, all I've been doing is eating smaller meals but it sucks because I'm hungry all the time.

I played poker for an hour or two today. I read an article about Chris "Jesus" Ferguson and how he turned $0 into $10,000 in a year and a half online and thought "I can do that." He had rules that he followed to help him manage his bankroll which I think I'm going to try and stick to. It took him nine months to get from $0 to $100, and then nine more months to finish it off. I started today at $125, so I'm figuring it will be about eight months before I'm at $10,000. Warning: The previous sentence may contain some falsehoods. Anyway, the rules he had were that he wouldn't join a cash game or SnG with more than 5% of his bankroll, and he had to get up and leave if the money on the table represented 10% or more of his bankroll. He could only enter tourneys with a buy-in of 3% of his bankroll or less. I'll probably avoid that aspect and stick with cash games and SnGs. Today I played some $.05/$.10, $.02/$.05, and a $3 HU. I won the HU and profited $6 through the rest of the play, which actually isn't too bad. I don't have any memorable hands because I play trained-chimp poker at these levels. General tips down in the sewers of poker: people don't fold and they never believe you. So, I limp as many pots as I can and bet the shit out of it if I catch the flop. I also get tough preflop with good hands. I insta-called a $4 raise into a $1.50 pot with AK preflop. The other guy had AK as well. You wouldn't see me doing this crap at a $1/$2 table, but down here I didn't have to think about it. I'll only play once or twice a week, but I'll update as I go. Bankroll at $134.26

Debacle/Injuries, Reader, No Poker

So...I got this text message from D'vo on Friday that said "We should get drunk and fall down on Saturday." This sounded like a good idea so I called him up around 5pm and met him at his girlfriend's apartment. She's out of town and he is babysitting her chihuahua Brody. We started the afternoon by playing Drinking Girls' State Basketball. I do not recommend this for the amateur drinker because it's hard. You take several drinks each time a shot misses the rim, each time a girl falls down, for every point, and each time there's an unforced error. You also have to finish your beer each time a girl cries before the end of the game. We were obviously somewhat tipsy by the end of the game and decided to head to a bar. We went to Thomasville, which is a bar in an apartment complex (genius). We played some darts and drank more beer. I kept calling the bartender Adrienne. Her name was Jackie. Several pitchers and shots later Jeff picked us up and took us to a bowling alley. I have no idea where it was, but it was GHETTO. D'vo and I chatted with two white trash dudes while Jeff did something. Then we left and went to another bar. At this bar, I took out the trash. I don't know why. Neither do Jeff or D'vo. While I was taking out the trash, I called Virginia. She said that she couldn't understand most of what I said, but it was sweet that I called her. Jeff then took us back to our place. D'vo and I were hungry, so we walked over to Hyvee. Somewhere on this sojourn I gashed my finger and fell down. When we got into Hyvee, D'vo pointed at my hand and said "Whoa, something happened to your hand!" It was covered in blood. This was the first that either of us had known of my finger gash. So, yeah, we did our best imitation of the two drunkest people in Omaha.

Virginia read my blog tonight for the first time. It was sort of weird listening to her as she read through it. She read back quite a ways, and I had forgotten some of the things that I wrote about her when we first met. They were all good, but it was just different to have her get a glimpse of how she blossomed in my mind. I am excited that she's going to read all of the posts. As she put it "I can use this as a window into what you were like before we met."