I had a stunningly wonderful weekend away with Hunny Bunny; the weather was nice, the roads were perfect, the cottage was lovely, the steaks we barbecued were delicious. I haven't been to this place since I was 12, and all I can say is that it's nice to have some places that don't change at all from how you remember them.

Well, here it is, Saturday morning. And while I'm not all that bright-eyed and bushy tailed (feeling a tad duntish, truth be told), I'm secure in the knowledge that I'm far less duntish than any of those in Key West with AlCantHang.

I can only imagine the bacchanalia that was Al's birthday celebration- I have no doubt that a good time was had by all. And as me dad used to say, I hope your night before was worth your morning after.

We had 32 donks out last night for the AlcantHang Memorial edition of the Friday Night Blogger Donkament. We had a couple of the I Eat Poker forum members, some Riverchasers, and the usual assortment of WPBT donks that are home on a Friday night for one reason or another. Congrats to LJ, Sox, Shadowcard3 and Ringo6624 for being ITM.



****

I'll see you guys later; I'm out of here for the weekend. Hunny Bunny is leaving for a size week tour on Wednesday, and we've both planned to spend this weekend together to hanging out. The weatherman is predicting a perfectly sunny fall weekend so we're hopping on the bikes and going up north for the weekend. The leaves are changing colour, and I've rented a cottage on a lake. I'm not sure if there will be cell service up there, but if there is then todays birthday boy can expect some dial-a-shots.

Have fun!

Cell phone service package with extra minutes: $50/month

Ultra high speed internet: $40/month

Lease payments on assorted hardware: $16/month

Using all of this technology to do dial-a-shots with Gracie while watching her laugh as Pablo flashed a nipple at the Sloppy Joe's webcam: utterly fucking priceless!

****

Happy Birthday Al!!!!!

Personally, I think the Dork quotient is a tad low.

For about three hundred and forty-five days of the year, I love my life. I have a meaningful job where I make enough for my basic needs (and a few extras), I have friends and a husband who loves me, I have a family that doesn't make me mental, and I have hobbies and interests that keep me sharp and let me be creative.

The other twenty days can be broken down like this:

• 12-13 days of the year I ride the hormone rollercoaster, and will hate everything about everything.
• 5 days of the year must be spent on duty visits to in-laws.
• 2 days of the year where I wish I had someone else's life.

This last one seems to happen when there is something going on that sounds fun that I want to go to but for one reason or another (usually involving work, money, and/or duty), can't.

Like this weekend. Blogger hijinks are happening in Key West, and while I appreciate the promises of Dial-A-Shots, it's just not the same.

Have fun, you bastards *grin.

****

However, for the rest of us, thankfully there's the intarweb, that great collection of tubes that brought us all together in the first place.

And on Friday, AlCantHang's birthday, is a special edition of the Blogger Donkament:


The Birthday Boy contributed a cool hunnert to the prize pool, so I think it behooves us to play in true AlCcantHang fashion: drunk.

So stock up on SoCo (or your poison of choice), click the automatic rebuy button, and lets have some fun!

Next Friday marks the 40th birthday of our favourite hippie, the one and only AlCantHang. To mark this auspicious event, there will be a special Friday Night Blogger Donkament: The AlCantHang Memorial.

The format will be the same donkalicious $1 + $1 rebuy, but there will be an added bonus; the birthday boy has added $100 to the prize pool!


Wheee!!!!!

So bring your dollahs and your drunken donkey game, and be prepared to hit the All In button like your name is Garth or MeanHappyGuy.

I think I'll offer a double bounty: a little sumpin sumpin for whoever rebuys the most times and another for whoever knocks me out.

Just off the phone with my beloved who is in Atlanta for a show. He is bemoaning the fact that that he was bored and wishes I was down there with him.

Oh honey... if I was down there with you, you'd still be bored. I would be out hanging with the degenerates, getting into all kinds of pokery mischief.

Damn. Wish I was there.

****

I'm going to jump on the bandwagon, and join Ski, Waffles and other bloggers in the Chris Ferguson Challenge. Bankroll management, like weight management, has proven beyond me in the past due to a total lack of any self-discipline. It seems the way to stick to it is to make it a challenge and make it public. (BTW, down 8 lbs in the Lose 30 by Vegas Challenge - 22 to go!).

I'm starting with $100 on Full Tilt, and the goals are to 1) work on developing more focus during online play, ie, stop treating it like a video game as Loud would say; 2) develop a better ethic - be a thoughtful player rather than a donk who's waiting for a big hit; and 3) make some monay!

So the rules are:

• Never buy into a cash game or a Sit & Go with more than 5 percent of my total bankroll. Exception: can buy into any game with a buy-in of $2.50 or less.
• Don't buy into a multi-table tournament for more than 2 percent of my total bankroll. Exception: can buy into any multi-table tournament that costs $1.
• If at any time during a cash game the money on the table represents more than 10 percent of my total bankroll, I have to leave the game when the blinds reach me.
• Acting like a donkey in a blogger game is fun as hell, but -EV for cash. A blogger game buyin must be earned, and can only be taken from net gains, not from my base bankroll.
  

How's that last one for incentive?

I've been playing around with it this weekend (down 20 on Friday, up 20 on Saturday), but am making my official start today. My tracking spreadsheet can be found here.

Bubbled.

Goddam four flushes.

Fucking four flushes.

I fucking hate bubbling. Even more than I fucking hate four flushes.

The two combined are just fucking vile.

Fuck. I think I need another martini to wash this taste out of my mouth.

****

You'll have to forgive me, but I was raised by two real sticklers for manners. Let me know if I'm way off base here (actually, no don't let me know, because it's not like I'm about to change my standards), but I think it quite rude to join a friendly group of people in a fun game and not say anything to any of them, even when a direct question is asked. If you're not going to contribute to the pot, or to the fun, why are you there? To take advantage of the drunken donkeys? Nice.

Yah, yah, I'm a bitch. It's been pointed out to me on numerous occasions. Whatever.

One of the great things about the school is that teachers are encouraged to join in the learning; what better example for kids on the value of lifelong learning. I've been able to dabble in art class, discuss the reign of the Borgias while sitting in a grade 12 history class, have a published author critque my efforts in the writers club, and attempt to slow down and relax while meditating in yoga class.

I bailed on yoga though. I always find that the moment I slow down and relax is precisely the time that life will sneak up behind me and kick me in the ass hard enough to leave a big fucking bruise.

But tonight I think I found something I could really get into - tonight was the first boxing class.

It sucked hugely to have any last illusions of fitness stripped away. It's hard to keep convincing myself that I'm not "in too bad a shape" when I can't do certain maneuvers because my belly is in the way and I'm sweating already after only 5 jumping jacks.

Ah but the boxing..... POW! BIFF! BAM! The sound of the glove smacking against the punch mitt is as musical to my ears as the sound of ice clattering against the metal sides of a martini shaker.

I like it. I like it a lot.

But it's gonna hurt like hell tomorrow.

The second time I went to Vegas was with Juliette, aka Loud. By then I was playing poker, and Loud took me around to some poker rooms. The one place I really loved the most was Binions. It's grotty and the chips stick together in clumps of 10, but I like it there. It is what is is, no pretensions. And the dealers absolutely crack me up.

Loud and I played the $60 tournament they run there four times a day. I didn't do so hot, Loud placed second. I wanted to go and play there again the next day, but it was going to be closed for filming a movie.

Well tonight I saw that movie, Lucky You.

Who do I see about getting back those 124 minutes? There must be someone I can bill.

Hey, I'll even take a free entry to a Binions game.

There's something that's been preying on my mind since my last foray into live poker last Thursday.

When I moved tables to get away from the most annoying human ever, I found myself at a full 1/2 table. Seat 1 was a young asian guy. The rest of the table was old guys; I'd estimate the average to be around mid-60's. Two were asian, and didn't look like they spoke much English, the rest were caucasian. Two of the players had over $400 in front of them, the rest were around the $100 mark. Not a lot of chit chat, most didn't look up when I sat down as they were fixed on the hand in progress. First impressions were this was a table of guys who knew what they were doing.

Now imagine that it's you sitting at this table. You're the new player at a table of leather-asses. You don't know how they play, but you're making assumptions based on these observations; and they are making assumptions about you. You're one away from the button, and are dealt your first hand at that table, and it's a monster - AA! All players before you but one call, including blinds there's $13 in the pot.

How do you play this?

Now take it an extra level; picture yourself as the only woman at the table. With the exception of one man, all are from a different generation, from a time where a woman engaging in a predominantly male pursuit may not have been taken too seriously. They will make more assumptions, different ones.

Do you play it now? Any differently?

Me? How did I play it?

When it came around to me, I raised to $15. Button folded, so did SB. However BB called, and so did three of the 5 limpers. Jeebus! Flop was 3h Kh Ks; BB bet 40, next guy folded, next one (lets call him Bert, he looked like a Bert, he was one of the big stacks) raised to 80, next guy folds, then me. I was sorely tempted, but figured that Bert was good (I put him on a set of Kings actually), so I bailed. BB re-raised all in, Bert calls him. BB has a flush draw, Bert has pocket threes for a flopped boat. No, BB did not make his flush (like it would have mattered) but an Ace did pop up on the river that would have given me a higher boat.

I feel like I played it g00t, but I have a nagging suspicion, that maybe I should have bet more pre-flop and tried to buy the pot then. But would they have taken me seriously? Would Bert have folded his 33?

See, THIS is why I love poker - so many unknowns, so many blanks that you just can't really fill in. Keeps me thinking.

That way I don't have to think about THE FUCKING SERVER THAT CRASHED AND CAUSED THREE DAYS OF LOST TIME, THANKS TO PEOPLE PLUGGING SHIT IN WHERE IT SHOULDN'T BE PLUGGED IN!!!!

Caps intended. It's only Tuesday and it has not been a good week.

"You'll never be a lady," he said, "Not like your mother."

He didn't say it to be mean or spiteful. He was smiling slightly when he said it, and his voice had that same matter-of-fact tone that one uses to give directions to strangers. He was just stating a fact as he saw it.

I remember muttering something like "Gee, thanks, Dad!", then retreating to my room (the teenage girl's sanctuary) to do what I usually did - repress and read.

At first, whenever I thought of it, I'd think "I could too be a lady! I have manners, and I'm quiet!". (Sidenote: from age 13 to 17 I was very shy and reserved. I know, hard to believe, but true.) But in later years, I grew farther away from shy and quiet, and now I realize that Dad was right: I'll never be a lady like my mother. I'll never be sweet and gracious even in the face of utter rudeness, I'll never be calm and smiling when at the brink of disaster. I'm more like my Dad in that I'll never suffer fools gladly, I'll never be subtle or discreet.

And the older I get, the more ok with that I am.

Last weekend I went to visit my favourite aunt, my dad's older sister. When I realized that there was just no way on god's green earth I could emulate my mother, this aunt became my role model when I was in my twenties (although she doesn't know it). Strong, independent in both thought and action, and no-nonsense to the core, Eleanor kicked ass.

And still does actually. At 93, she is still feisty and forthright. After she finished giving me shit for not getting off my ass to come see her, she demanded to know what was going on in with me. I told her about teaching ("HAHA! You teaching teenage girls with attitude - if that's not payback I don't know what is!"), and my three obsessions: knitting, poker and motorcycling.

"Oh, knitting's for old ladies. But I think I'd have liked to get a motorcycle. I could see me on one, harassing all the men."

She paused for a second.

"I used to play poker too. I seem to recall taking your fathers money on a few occasions." She laughs and shrugs, and the conversation drifts to other things.

The point is this: I come by it naturally. I can't help it.

****

I had Thursday off, so I took myself to Fallsview Casino for some pokery goodness. They were about half full, and I didn't have long to wait for a $1/$2 NLHE table. There were only 2 big stacks, and one was in the process of packing up his chips. The other big stack was the most annoying man it has been my extreme misfortune to meet.

He was a cheerful guy, with a line of patter and a slew of stories. We've all seen the type; designer glasses, expensive casual duds, trendy blonde spikey hair, voice one lisp away from being totally effeminate. I honestly don't think he could be quiet for any longer than it would take him to draw a breath. And loud - oh my frigging god. I sat beside speakers in a punk show that made my ears buzz less.

At first I thought, nice - a fun table. It took precisely 17 minutes for me to slip from "hey some entertainment with my pokery goodness, nifty" to "I wonder how many $5 chips I need to stuff in his gob before he's stifled?".

From minutes 17 to 32 I tried to approach it as an exercise - how to tune out annoying chatter and play your game.

At minute 33 I had a "fuck this, life is too short" epiphany and went to the desk to get a table change.

By minute 37, I was grabbing my chips and my Virgin Ceasar, vacating the premises. Mr. Jackass looks up at me and asks, "You're leaving us? Why are you leaving?"

For a brief moment, my mother's ghost whispered in my ear, don't make a scene, just make an excuse and slip away. But my inner Eleanor stopped, looked him straight in the eye and said in my best loud and firm teacher voice, "I am leaving because of you. You talk too much, you're too loud, and frankly you're not nearly as fabulous as you would have us think. I deal with loud, annoying girls all week - I don't need to deal with another one on my day off. So seeya."

Overall it was a losing session, but I still left feeling pretty good.

I think I'll bring some cards and chips next time I visit Aunt Eleanor. She'll probably teach me a thing or two.

****

Much fun was had last night at the Friday Night Blogger Boobtastic Donkament. there was the usual drunken donkery; my one clear memory is both Ingoal and I going all in with hammers only to be called by people with, wait for it......real hands! No hammer respect at all. I believe Ingoal has a screen shot on his blog. Oh dear...judging by the screen shots I was the recipient of a lot of his chips. However I was not able to hold on to them, and busted just after the break. Quel surprise.

And many thanks to all my IFF's for your comments and calls. I appreciate all the support for the girls. Truly *grin.

My doctor called me today, and good news! The boobies are fine!!!

Dial-A-Shots on me this weekend!!!

Everything I read or hear infuriates me today. EVERYTHING! I'm one big ball of irritable.

And no, it's not hormonal, so the next person who even hints at that will die a long and horribly painful death.

But Kat, you ask, what has so ruffled your usual state of calm equanimity?

Many little things (meetings, annoying co-worker, headache, whiney twelve year olds) and one big thing (my mammogram & ultrasound results are not at my GP's yet, making my appointment today a near-complete waste of time).

And how much longer do I have to wait, you ask?

1.5 to 2 weeks.

On a positive note, if there was a problem with the results I'd have gotten a call by now. I just really would like to be sure. 100% sure. Utterly and unequivocally sure.

Sigh. Deep breath.

Back to being patient.

Yes I did stay up for the Riverchasers; three and a half hours of it to be precise.

Took all kinds of screenshots and notes, but am far too weary to anything but post these:



'Twas fun - thanks to all for making me giggle with the chat. And now I must sleep....the students can sense weakness in a teacher like a pack a ravenous hyenas watching the antelope herd.

Is it October? November?

I swear I've been back to work for a few months.

What is that you say? Two days?? Nah, you're putting me on.

Oh god. You're serious.

Two days. Fuck.

I feel like the life has been sucked right out of me. Wanna know why I missed the Mookie last night?

I WAS IN BED ASLEEP. By 9:30 actually.

God how lame.

I hope I can stay awake long enough to play Riverchasers tonight.

Earlier this afternoon I was playing 3 tables on Full Tilt, a $5 two table SnG, a $6 one table turbo SnG, and a >NET Aussie Freeroll.

It was all good, and I looked at my screen to see 3 of hearts, 5 of diamonds. I wish I had the presence of mind to take a screen shot, as I had this hand on ALL THREE TABLES.

At the same time. What are the odds??

No seriously, I'd like to know.

As IronGirl and I were concluding on Saturday night: "RNG my ass!".