Monday, March 26, 2007

A Bad Week

I'm overdue for a post and/or update.

But this time, it's not wholly my idea.

I've been treading water with my play, mostly; I'm relying on turning previously earned points at Full Tilt and PokerStars to enter tournaments with cash prizes, or more commonly, which award seats into other tournaments (typically, on Stars, the Sunday Million). As I've done before, when I win a seat into the Sunday Million, I've been selling the seat for cash, which is a quick $200ish boost into my account.

I'd also been playing some of the charity tournaments around town, of which I've written previously; these are becoming a better and better deal for the player. After getting bad-beat out of several of the tournaments, I finally won one, and so for a change, I had several hundred bucks in my wallet. Gil and I played at Soaring Eagle over a weekend (more than two weeks ago), and we both did quite well over the weekend, a few hundred bucks ahead for each of us (at $3/$6).

Then, my dad unplugged the cablemodem here. It was a salvo on his part in the war over how everything I do is illegitimate, and while it wouldn't have been that hard to plug it in when he wasn't here, I didn't. In fact, I was avoiding my parents as much as possible.

This wasn't really supposed to go into this post, but I got around to it, so I'll put it here: I felt strongly that my parents were judging me while they were incompetent to do so. They don't read this blog. I'd given them things to read regarding various aspects of "life as a poker pro," because they don't believe there's any such thing. I'd suggested a couple of movies five years ago where I identify strongly with the lead character (As Good As It Gets and Finding Forrester), and they haven't seen them, but continue to tell me that my life is improper because I am, essentially, too much like those two characters. All of that, combined, made me very angry, feeling that they'd made no effort to try to understand my point of view, yet they continue to judge it as illegitimate.

With the cablemodem unplugged, I was forced to play live. I enjoy playing live more, but I'm becoming (to my chagrin) a tournament specialist, and the opportunities to play tournaments are somewhat limited. Most of the charity tournaments are limited to the weekends, and it wasn't the weekend. Unable to play a tournament, online or live, I went to Soaring Eagle to play $3/$6.

This usually isn't a problem, except for two things: First, my car's suspension is in really bad shape. Like, a-wheel-might-fall-off bad. Second, my car isn't actually legal. I didn't renew my license plate in 2005 because moving to Las Vegas was imminent (which turned out to be correct), and then I never put a Nevada plate on my car for three reasons: First, the cost, second, my reaction against all things mandatory, and third, there's no reason a Nevada cop should know that a white sticker on my Michigan plate means that it expired in 2005.

It does turn out to be relevant to this story, but before I left Las Vegas, I got a ticket for an illegal turn. I'd explain what I did, but I've tried before and apparently I have a serious inability to explain it and be understood. In conjunction with the preceding paragraph, the cop actually didn't notice that my plate was expired when he ticketed me. The cop suggested that I not try to pay the ticket right away, suggesting that it would be lost in paperwork for a while, and within a couple of weeks I returned to Michigan anyway. While I was here, Nevada suspended my Nevada driver's license for failure to pay the ticket.

We're back on the present, again. A week ago Friday, I was losing my shirt at the casino, losing more than $300 at $3/$6. Finally, after about fifteen hours, I decided that enough was enough, and left. On the way home, an Isabella County Sheriff's deputy appeared behind me, and pulled me over. It took him a while to discover that my Nevada license was suspended, but he eventually did, and since that's a misdemeanor offense in Michigan, he arrested me and impounded my car.

People who've had experience in these things tell me that Isabella County's jail compares pretty favorably to others around the state, that, in essence, it doesn't suck as much to be in Isabella County. And even I'll admit that, as much as it sucked, at least it was better than working at Lowe's. I'll probably write more about the experience eventually (in fact, I hope that I do), but not now. For now, I'll say that I spent ten days there, and leave it at that. (I also have about $1000 in various fines.)

Now I'm on "what next." Some ideas have been presented to me, which aren't completely stupid, and I still have a long dragged-out conversation with my parents coming, about how much of a shithead I am. In essence, all this isn't over yet. But I felt the need to get as much of it as has happened thus far, on (virtual) paper, and so you see this post. More later, I'm sure.