Thursday, June 25, 2009

Choices

I woke up from my nap with my babies today, putted around the house for a bit and then opened the front door to let my dogs in. One of those little pamphlet things fluttered to my feet and I bent down to pick it up. At first glance, all that registered was that it wasn't from the Jehovah Witnesses who frequently leave handy little pamphlets and flier's at my door in a vain attempt to save my soul. When I looked closer, I found that it was from our power company. THIS handy little flier informed me that although they were very sorry, they had to shut my power off due to some ridiculous thing about 'non-payment'.

I looked around in bewilderment, as I was certain that I had just turned the T.V. on for my little ones, and that I was, in fact, standing in my well-lit kitchen.

So our power isn't off, at least not yet. I have no idea why they DIDN'T turn it off, although I'm EXTREMELY grateful. This latest little notice follows a notice of foreclosure on our mortgage and a summons for non-payment of a credit card bill.

We are currently broke, in other words. Broke, broke, broke.

This, my friends, is the ugly side of the chip stack. This is why so many, why almost EVERYONE else chooses stability over things like loving your job, being able to be flexible in your work schedule... stability is the thing that makes you certain that there will be no little pamphlet in your door when you get up from your nap. I don't want it, understand. I know that my man will come through, that we won't lose our house or our power tomorrow. I know this, because I believe in him and I love him with every fibre of my being.

I just kinda understand why some people choose stability.

For me, I choose my life, this unstable, messy, scary life that affords my kids and me more love and happiness than most people ever know.

I choose my man; he is my stability, my sanity.

I just hope he pays the goddamn power bill tomorrow.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

A Little Help from The Other Side of the Chip Stack

Hey, poker people. Listen up, missus poker has some o' dat 411 foah yah.

I'm giving you a little heads up, from the other side of the proverbial 'chip stack', if you please.

You know we love you, you men and women of poker. We, your spouses, your best friends... your family. We. Love. You. and because we love you, we understand and love poker. Some more than others, sure, but to love you is to love poker, and really, would we even be together if we didn't?

Right.

So, you are talking to someone who loves you and loves poker, OK? Remember that, because this next part might be a little harsh.

Shut. The. FUCK. Up about it already. I do NOT, repeat; I DO NOT want to hear a play by play of every single pivotal (in your mind, anyway) hand in the last tournament that you just got bubbled out of. I don't. I love you, I do, but after like... i don't know, the SECOND hand you start explaining. In perfect, fucking detail. With very, veerrrrry important details like how long the other person took to CALL YOU, honey... you start sounding like Charlie Brown's mother.

CB'sMom: Waawhhwahh wawhh wah wawh.

CB: Oh, riiiight. Mm-hm...?

CB'sMom: Wahh wawh wah waawh wah waawhh!

CB: NO WAY! huh!

CB'sMom: wawh wawh wawh waawh! the button! and then he fucking CALLAWAHWAH!

CB: FUCKING DONKEY! Gawd!

When our eyes glaze over and you notice that we're really only repeating the last three words of your previous sentence? Just cut to the end, OK? Because we DO love you, and we DO love poker. Just, please, stop talking. thankyoujeezus.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

It's All About Getting Head

I just made a connection between pouring beer correctly and playing poker well.

Ohhh, yes. Yes, I did.

When you first start drinking and/or pouring beer, you have no idea what you're doing. You know you WANT the beer, and you know that it goes in the cup, and the rest is all just... unknown territory. You don't even KNOW what you don't know, you know so little. You pour and it's nearly all head and if you're a guy you're all, 'heh. head'. And if you're a girl you're all, '*giggle* head'. You don't care that you have a glass full of foam; it's fun, you like it, you get enough in your mouth to feel excited, and you want more.

Poker is the same thing. You start playing, you like it, it's fun, but you have no real idea what you're doing. You might understand how the cards work, what would beat what, and that you want the chips. You might just get lucky enough to win one or two pots, and that is enough of a taste to make you wanting more. The adrenaline rush is awesome, even if you're really not quite sure WHAT just happened.

You might learn enough about pouring beer to tilt your glass. You're going to OVER tilt it, and you will definitely UNDER tilt it, and then, you'll really feel like you 'get it'. You are the master of the beer pour. You have learned that something called 'quality' exists. You might not care about having GOOD beer, but damn if you're not going to try to get AS MUCH beer as you can into your glass. You feel almost like a fucking professional beer pour-er. People WATCH you pour the beer, you're so damn smooth. You never spill any, you barely get ANY head (giggle), except, we all know that a good beer pour-er gets plenty of head. *wink, wink*.

The next step for poker is the same; you maybe have logged in a bunch of hours online, maybe you read a book or two. You finally understand things like POT ODDS. You're going to over-bet and under-bet the pot; you'll scream and curse the poker gods when some 'DONKEY' gets you all in with your A Q SUITED (it was suuuiiiittteeed!!) with his fucking pair of THREES and nothing fucking HITS and you're OUT of a FIFTY DOLLAR BUY IN. But fuck that shit, man. Those people don't even KNOW the TERROR they have brought upon them. You understand THEORY! It's not your fault that these TUNA get lucky. You win more pots, you might even feel like you're 'making' money... You regale people with your knowledge. Everyone loves you, loves to have you a part of their home games, you win those for SURE, because no one else UNDERSTANDS. Once again, you're getting plenty of head because You. Are. A. Poker. Star.

Then, somewhere down the line you realize that pouring a beer just right is NOT all about the LACK of foam. It's about wanting a GOOD beer. I'm not talking about Bud light vs. Heineken. I'm talking about pouring a beer to the BEER'S best. You'll get head, sure, but you'll let all the deliciousness out. It might LOOK like you don't know what you're doing, but you do. You know EXACTLY what you're doing. And the people who know will look at you and give you a little nod, as if to say, 'welcome, oh wondrous beer pour-er'.

Poker is NOT just about POT ODDS. It's not even about your STARTING HAND. It's about what you can make the other person THINK you have. You have to pick your battles; you have to pick your POSITION, but if you're the only one who knows that you have absolutely NOTHING, and everyone else at the table is certain you have the nuts or ALMOST the nuts, who cares what is in your hand? Someone who doesn't quite get it will think you're a total donkey, but those who know, know what it REALLY is. It's balls. Big, honken' BALLS. And a desire to have the best of ALL of it.