Mean Gene

Blue Gene

Had our first beach volleyball game tonight, and "The Underachievers" were victorious. We knew the folks on the team we played, one of whom couldn't make it, and that allowed us to take 2 out of 3 games. Since we only won one match in two years of playing in the competitive league, perhaps playing in the lower, "rec" league is more our speed. Had a good time. The four beers (four? five?) afterwards didn't hurt either. Friggin love playing in the sand and then having some suds. Friggin awesome.

I'm tired, and moderately drunk. Nah, moderately buzzed. I may have to stay in this state to survive not attending the blogger blowout taking place the next few days. Nah, I'm pretty much over that. I knew I wasn't going all along, so there's no sense of loss involved. Well, the sense of loss ended a few weeks ago. Do you have any idea how hard it is to wash tears out of pillowcases?

Today (well, let's see if I post this before midnight, probably not) marks the one-year anniversary of me getting laid off from my last job. Went to work (after a hellish Friday before the Memorial Day holiday) and was told my services were no longer needed. Along with a bunch of other people. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise, I hated my old job, it had become a waking nightmare, and I got a job making more money without the soul-draining stress and powerlessness. Is that a word? It is now. Anyway, one of the reasons why I'm not going to Vegas is that I'm still a temp, meaning I don't get paid vacation (in the last year I've taken one day off and one sick day). And I'd feel guilty going to Vegas when I was not only losing vacation time but also losing pay.

See, when I finally go to Vegas, I don't want to feel guilty on the plane ride there. I want to fly west feeling cool and confident and ready to tear it up. It's perfectly fine to fee guilty on the way back. Flying home to Pittsburgh I want to be thinking thoughts like:

I can't believe I did that
I can't believe I said that
I can't believe I drank that
I can't believe I paid her to...do...that

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. I'm the only pokerblogger in Pittsburgh (am I?) so I could return to my humdrum life without anyone being the wiser. And I'm curious to see what I'd do, under those circumstances.

So that's why I'm not like every other blogger out there, sleeping in my traveling clothes so I can jump right in the car when my alarm goes off. Beyond the obvious fun I'm going to miss out on, I'm really disappointed that I won't get to meet a lot of interesting people whom I kinda feel like I know really well even if I've never seen them or spoken to them or know what they look like. It's rather an odd situation.

I'm beat. Two hours of VB and four beers and the usual weight of my despair on my shoulders. I hope to hell yinz have a friggin INCREDIBLE time out there. I look forward to hearing the stories and seeing the pictures. If there's a next time, I hope to be there. As I told Iggy the other day, hopefully by then I'll have my act together enough to join in the fun. Oddly, I've felt optimistic lately, I have the feeling that I'm about to turn some sort of corner. Like something good is about to happen, something's gonna break my way. And as that's not my usual default setting, maybe my intuition is spot on this time. Time will tell.

But rest assured, at some point over the next few days, when I find an alcoholic beverage in my hand, I will face west and raise my glass/stein/bottle/bucket and toast the mayhem going on just over the horizon. It may be, when all is said and done, that I will be very, very glad that I'm 3000 miles from the jurisdiction of Clark County law enforcement.

But I doubt it.

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