Where or where do the days go?
I can’t win a pot playing online poker at WSOP.com now. It’s like the days disappearing without a trace, the Card Fairy left me high and dry. No cards, no hands, when I do THINK I have a hand, it’s a trap. But this isn’t a tale about running bad. Anyone that’s spent any time at the tables knows all about running bad…they don’t need my input on it.
Things are a bit nerve wracking right now. I have surgery scheduled for November 6th, if the red tape doesn’t kill me first. The world of medicine coupled with the world of insurance are two really freaky acts that should never be combined. Getting approval for this and approval for that and this test and that test and trying to find out if you’re scheduled for outpatient surgery but your doctor says you have to stay overnight…WTF? I don’t mind the overnight stay so much, what I will mind is if I have to pay for it since it’s outpatient surgery. Wonder how my screaming voice is, if it can be heard across the nation?
Of course the surgery might make me scream too. I suppose if the drugs are good enough I won’t mind. I’m thinking back to gallbladder removal last year and that was pretty freaking miserable when I tried to move my torso…like slip my legs over the edge of the bed and head for the toilettin type of thing. Then there’s the little matter of puking when I come out of surgery…gotta love that part. Even when you tell the anesthesiologist that the anesthesia always makes you sick and they tell you they’ll give you something through the IV before you wake up. Uh-huh! It’s the motion sickness thing, everything is a blur and I can’t focus.
You remember the days when you got dead-tard stupid and got drunker than a skunk, right? You couldn’t stop the spinning. That’s exactly what this is like. It does wear off faster than a mind-bending drunk-a-thon does so that’s a plus I suppose.
Let’s dip into the poker pool for a slight rehash of the news.
Daniel Negreanu and Jack McClelland both were voted into the 2014 Poker Hall of Fame. Some of the people that are nominated each year but never make it to the final must feel the sting of Negreanu’s induction. It’s the first year he’s been eligible and BOOM, Baby!!!
On Phil Ivey’s losing his lawsuit against Crockfords in the edge-sorting case, I can help but wonder why, since the judge said in his view Ivey was cheating, the casino or the gambling commission aren’t after Ivey. Really!!! Cheaters usually get prosecuted if they are caught in casinos.
I finally told momparental to kiss my ass. SWEET! For the last 12 years I’ve bit my tongue with her, and the last 10 years I’ve been over cautious and worked at steering clear of confrontation with her. Even when she’s called me the ‘c’ word and a ‘bitch’ and sent me horrible texts and emails and left me ugly phone messages. I usually do not respond when she goes off on one of her vitriol laced tirades because I know the only person that suffers is Riot. She verbally badgers him and taunts him wrapped around whatever conflict she is feeling at the moment and when she’s on my butt for something she imagined, he will hear about it because he loves to spend time with me. Hateful and hurtful, that’s her MO.
She got mad at me a few days and it had nothing to do with me other than I tried to 3-way call her so she could talk to Riot. Riot was with his dad and they didn’t have dad’s phone, they were calling from a friend’s phone (the friend didn’t want momparental to get his number…who does?). She wouldn’t answer her phone but sent me an idiot text a moment later never to call her or text her again. YIPPPEEE! I would love it that way.
Anyway, long and short of it, after Riot spending a huge part of his life with me, calling me and talking about coming out every weekend for almost the last three years, I tried to call him tonight because this weekend the plan was made to have 3 of my grandkids come out. Momparental knew about it through dadparental. No answer on the phone call. I sent a text “Riot call grams about this weekend.”
I get this text from her “Riot is 10 years young. He also has parents who can speak for themselves. Do not call my son for arrangements or planning his weekends!!! You are to ask his parents first! Then I have to know through Dar, not you!”
I sent back, “Kiss my ass”
She responded, “Ditto”
I responded, “I can’t stoop that low”
The only person I feel bad for out of all of it is Riot. I know how she treats people and how she treats Riot just from listening to him talk. I know that within a few weeks, she will completely change her attitude about all of it…it will be as if this never happened. When Riot leaves home (I believe he will way before he’s 18), I will have the pleasure of blocking her number and never speaking to her again. I look forward to that day. But in the meantime, I can’t even express how good it felt to tell her to kiss my ass.
Tonight’s sunset was yummy.
Last night’s was a super visual experience.
Today we had a partial eclipse of the sun. I went out, with my camera, all I got was the glare devil (no I didn’t look at it through the view finder). So, I missed it.
On the run, sleep is waiting.