Well I made it. From beginning to end the journey took forty hours including a ferry, a bus, a train, a taxi and that six-hour wait at Hong Kong. I can have no complaints about the Air New Zealand flight out of Auckland. I was lucky enough to have an empty seat next to me, so I managed to doze a bit and see two very good films (Precious and A Single Man); the 11½ hours went by quickly. Coming into Hong Kong I didn't realise how mountainous it was, even though I'd landed there before. The airport is vast but it seemed the various shops selling designer goods were repeated throughout. You can only stare at banks of Cartier, Gucci and Omega watches for so long, although this time I was able to say, wow, with my poker winnings I can almost afford half this watch! Unlike the Air New Zealand 777, the Lufthansa Jumbo hadn't been brought into the 21st century with seat-back screens, and the flight to Frankfurt did seem to drag. The final flight to Heathrow took barely an hour, then I hopped on the underground. Having been out of the country a while, I always find the tube a bit of an eye-opener. I was greeted by a mob of vocal, alcohol-fuelled Chelsea fans whose team had obviously won the Premier League a few hours earlier. Campione, campione, olé, olé, olé! At the time I had no idea that they'd just thrashed Wigan 8-0. More striking were the women, the likes of which don't exist in New Zealand. How long did it take you to get your hair like that? And how much do those earrings weigh? It was hard not to stare. I wonder what they thought of me, looking washed-out and dishevilled. They must have thought I'd come from the other side of the world or something.
I arrived on my gran's doorstep, in Houghton, at 11:30 on Sunday night. It was great to see her. So far she's managed better than I might have expected. Things aren't easy - she gets confused a lot - but as long as my aunt stays out of the picture I think she'll be OK. On Monday morning I took the bike into St Ives. It was great to see the town again, especially on a Monday which is market day.
I'd planned to leave the country this morning, but realising I might upset my gran if I left so soon, I changed my flight (at a cost of course) and will now be flying to Pisa on Saturday. This lunchtime I got a surprise phone call from my brother. It was a pleasure to talk to him. We even talked politics for the first time I can remember.
We now have a government. Having voted in two MMP elections in New Zealand, I found it mildly amusing that the process of forming a coalition government caused such consternation here. I think a cobbled-together alliance of Labour, the Lib Dems and a bunch of nationalist parties would have been a disaster and I'm glad the Lib Dems went with the Tories in the end. There are clearly some major differences in policy between the two parties, but who knows, it just might work. I hope so.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Lift-off
I'll be on the plane pretty soon now. I'm a bit nervous to tell the truth. For the first time in a long time I'm actually going to miss people. Even back in 2003 when I shifted my whole life 12,000 miles, I wasn't particularly affected emotionally. With the notable exception of my grandmother who I saw maybe every other weekend, I simply didn't have anyone around me to miss.
I'll be flying out at 11:15 tonight on NZ39. It's a great time of day to leave because I'll feel like falling asleep then. Whether I actually do is another matter of course. I'll then touch down in Hong Kong (assuming my plane successfully negotiates the skyscrapers) and I'll be stuck there for bloody ages. Six hours. I'll be cursing the fact that none of the cafés and shops will be open when I arrive (they'll have opening times of 8am till 8pm or whatever, even though when you're flying there's no longer any sense of a.m. or p.m.). I then fly Lufthansa to London via Frankfurt; when I finally get to my gran's it'll be elevenish on Sunday night. I hope she won't mind.
I'll only have a couple of days in the UK before I take a Ryanair flight to Brescia. From there I'll catch a train to Venice, which will be an amazing experience I'm sure. Hopefully I'll be able to get accommodation there for two nights, at least, before exploring a bit more of northern Italy. I then plan to travel through France on the TGV, maybe catch some of Roland-Garros if I can somehow get hold of a ticket, then take the Eurostar to London on the 25th.
I'll spend as much of my remaining time in the UK with my gran as I can (I feel a bit bad that I'm not spending longer there) although I'll want to catch up with my brother as well as some old friends from university in Birmingham (with the exception of one bloke, I've almost fallen out of touch with them).
I leave London on June 9th and then head to Bangkok. Hopefully the political situation in Thailand will have improved by then, or else I'll have to cross the border into one of the neighbouring countries, meaning all kinds of fun and games getting visas. I get back to Auckland on the 24th when the big job search will really begin.
I did follow the British election yesterday, quite intently. I was shocked to learn that many people ended up in long queues at badly understaffed polling places and were unable to exercise their democratic rights. Heads will roll I'm sure. And some of the results from individual seats were frankly bizarre. It reminded me a bit of the 2000 US election when all those people in Florida accidentally voted for Pat Buchanan. I really do hope they get things sorted quickly.
The poker win. It's not like I hit six numbers on Lotto or anything, but I can't deny it's a significant financial boost to me. I hope I can enjoy it.
I'll be flying out at 11:15 tonight on NZ39. It's a great time of day to leave because I'll feel like falling asleep then. Whether I actually do is another matter of course. I'll then touch down in Hong Kong (assuming my plane successfully negotiates the skyscrapers) and I'll be stuck there for bloody ages. Six hours. I'll be cursing the fact that none of the cafés and shops will be open when I arrive (they'll have opening times of 8am till 8pm or whatever, even though when you're flying there's no longer any sense of a.m. or p.m.). I then fly Lufthansa to London via Frankfurt; when I finally get to my gran's it'll be elevenish on Sunday night. I hope she won't mind.
I'll only have a couple of days in the UK before I take a Ryanair flight to Brescia. From there I'll catch a train to Venice, which will be an amazing experience I'm sure. Hopefully I'll be able to get accommodation there for two nights, at least, before exploring a bit more of northern Italy. I then plan to travel through France on the TGV, maybe catch some of Roland-Garros if I can somehow get hold of a ticket, then take the Eurostar to London on the 25th.
I'll spend as much of my remaining time in the UK with my gran as I can (I feel a bit bad that I'm not spending longer there) although I'll want to catch up with my brother as well as some old friends from university in Birmingham (with the exception of one bloke, I've almost fallen out of touch with them).
I leave London on June 9th and then head to Bangkok. Hopefully the political situation in Thailand will have improved by then, or else I'll have to cross the border into one of the neighbouring countries, meaning all kinds of fun and games getting visas. I get back to Auckland on the 24th when the big job search will really begin.
I did follow the British election yesterday, quite intently. I was shocked to learn that many people ended up in long queues at badly understaffed polling places and were unable to exercise their democratic rights. Heads will roll I'm sure. And some of the results from individual seats were frankly bizarre. It reminded me a bit of the 2000 US election when all those people in Florida accidentally voted for Pat Buchanan. I really do hope they get things sorted quickly.
The poker win. It's not like I hit six numbers on Lotto or anything, but I can't deny it's a significant financial boost to me. I hope I can enjoy it.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Wow!
Tuesday. What a day. At 9am I fired up the SCOOP badugi tournament, not really expecting much. I was sure I'd played significantly more badugi than most of the field, and I rated my chances of some kind of payout at just about even, but making the serious money was such a remote possibility I had hardly considered it.
I didn't start well. In the first hour I won just one pot. During the first break I brought my washing in and then got back to business. Or so I thought. Dammit, I've lost my internet connection. Unplug, plug, unplug, plug. Still no reading, captain. I ring Vodafone. I'm on hold for ages. Stop it with the dance music at this time of the morning, would you? I finally get through to a bloke who was nice enough but clearly not based in New Zealand. "Have you tried unplugging it and plugging it back in?" "Yes, five times." I was told to type in various passwords and codes, then he noticed his switchboard was red hot. There was an Auckland-wide outage; he gave me a two-hour timeframe. Oh well. A quick back-of-an-envelope calculation told me I'd be blinded out of the tournament in almost exactly two hours.
I wasn't too disappointed. I hadn't invested much time or money in the tournament and I had plenty of other stuff to be getting on with. I left my computer on just in case; having worked in a large company I knew that "two hours" can be anywhere from a minute to some time next Tuesday.
When my connection miraculously sprung back to life - I was out for forty minutes - I still had nearly 80% of my initial 5000 chips. Things didn't improve much after that though, and I thought there can't be many tournaments where you can win just one pot in more than two hours of play and still show signs of life. In the third hour, with half my original stack left, I made a six badugi to virtually double up against a fellow short stack who I could tell had simply had enough of this badugi shit. I kept hanging in there but in the fourth hour, with half the 2408-player field remaining, I got involved with a couple of marginal hands and my stack was crippled. I was then dealt a one-card draw to a rough eight and had no real choice but to commit. I was three-bet by a monster draw and my tournament life hung by a thread. On the second draw I hit the two of diamonds to make 872A, my opponent missed, and I survived. I was about a 35/65 underdog on that hand. Two out of three times I would have exited right there.
I capitalised on my good fortune to build my stack up to 31,000 only to become one of the short stacks again as the money approached. When the bubble burst with 440 players left I was down to 11,000. Then something funny, but totally understandable when I think about it, happened. People started dropping like flies. You see, the payout structure was totally wack. Paying 440 is too many. Most of these people would only get their money back, plus a tiny bit more, and what's the point of that? And even as players were eliminated, the payouts hardly went up at all; 200th only paid slightly more than 400th, while even 100th was only enough to double your money. So it was hardly surprising that many of the short stacks said "sod this" and loosened up their play. Hence I decided to do the exact opposite. I haven't got a lot of chips here, but if I can just wait for a good hand and let everyone else knock each other out, who knows?
This strategy seemed to work. I played straightforwardly, betting aggressively with my good three-cards and staying out of the way with anything dodgy. With eighty or so left I hit the tournament lead and, almost in disbelief, took a screen shot of the lobby. At the ten-hour mark I realised I had a number of advantages over much of the field:
1. Yes I've been playing for ten hours and I'm getting a little tired, but think of all the poor sods in the States downing cans of Red Bull to avoid falling asleep at the wheel, or rather the screen. In contrast it's 7pm here and I'm still very much awake.
2. I've taken - and studied for - a lot of exams in my time, so concentrating on one thing for ten hours or more in a day is not a foreign concept to me.
3. I'm playing only this tournament. There were big Omaha tournaments going on at the same time. The very thought of playing simultaneous badugi and Omaha sounds like a nightmare. And of course people will be playing cash games and surfing the net and heaven knows what else.
I never thought seriously about the money until we were down to two tables, or to be more specific, eleven players. By this stage I was guaranteed a couple of hundred, but man were there eleven of us for a long time. And my stack was dwindling. Reaching the final eight would mean an extra hundred or so, while seventh paid over twice what eighth did! I wondered what was so special about seventh. As I said, the payouts were all wack. In fairly dire chip poo, I then won two big hands. On the first of these I committed with 43A while my opponent, who had tried to push me off my hand, had complete junk. I won the second as my six badugi went up against a seven.
As we hit the much-needed 15-minute break at the twelve-hour mark, I was chip leader with five players left. I glanced at those prizes again. What's fourth? Whoa. What's third? Oh man. I took a walk around the block in a bit of a daze. On my return we were soon down to three. Many more hands become playable three-handed, so I had to keep telling myself not to just click fold all the time. When we got heads-up I was at a slight chip disadvantage. Also I’d played very little heads-up badugi so I was flying by the seat of my pants. What should I three-bet with pre-draw? Three-card sixes? Smooth sevens? Nine badugis are monsters now, right? My opponent then wanted to make a deal. He was talking chip equity numbers and I had no real idea if I was being screwed over or not. In hindsight perhaps I was (at the time I was behind in chips by nearly two to one) but some PokerStars guru was on hand and everything seemed above board. I felt I had very little bargaining power as I’d never been anywhere near that situation before, and heck, win or lose the resulting payout would be beyond my wildest dreams (I later found out that my foe had taken home four figures a few times before). I took over the chip lead and on a couple of occasions I was a massive favourite to win, but after going head-to-head for more than an hour I’d had my chips. Second place for a whopping payout of US$4758. I was stunned.
Despite the previous day winning more than enough to pay for my next car (and the insurance for it!), yesterday was just a normal day, though I was very tired from Tuesday’s 14-hour-plus marathon. I talked at length with my counsellor about my relationship with Mum. Last night I attended the men’s depression group for the first time in ages (and also the last time in ages). I’d thought about buying drinks for everyone as a gesture, or perhaps going across the road to Hell Pizza (which, as the player who beat me was called Hellhound, would have been appropriate). In the end, as Andy suggested, I just got a few nibbles. We chatted about life, one of the blokes read out part of a play he had written, and I even talked about my gambling exploits with a “don’t try this at home” disclaimer.
Yesterday I spent some time just sitting out in the garden; it was a glorious autumn day. I realised one thing: whatever my next job is, I don’t want it to involve staring at a screen for 14 hours a day. I want to see some sunshine, some people, some life. I haven’t done enough of that lately. Tomorrow I’ll be seeing the careers advisor again.
The results of Britain’s general election will come in tomorrow. It will be a very tight race. If I was still in my old job I’d follow it on the internet at work, but I’m not sure if I will tomorrow. I’m hoping for a hung parliament and the Lib Dems to gain some influence, though I’m not sure it will really make much difference whatever happens.
It’s not long till I’ll be on the plane and I’ve still got so much to do before then. Maybe tomorrow I’ll write a quick post giving some idea of my itinerary over the next six or seven weeks. One thing’s for sure: poker will be off the radar.
I didn't start well. In the first hour I won just one pot. During the first break I brought my washing in and then got back to business. Or so I thought. Dammit, I've lost my internet connection. Unplug, plug, unplug, plug. Still no reading, captain. I ring Vodafone. I'm on hold for ages. Stop it with the dance music at this time of the morning, would you? I finally get through to a bloke who was nice enough but clearly not based in New Zealand. "Have you tried unplugging it and plugging it back in?" "Yes, five times." I was told to type in various passwords and codes, then he noticed his switchboard was red hot. There was an Auckland-wide outage; he gave me a two-hour timeframe. Oh well. A quick back-of-an-envelope calculation told me I'd be blinded out of the tournament in almost exactly two hours.
I wasn't too disappointed. I hadn't invested much time or money in the tournament and I had plenty of other stuff to be getting on with. I left my computer on just in case; having worked in a large company I knew that "two hours" can be anywhere from a minute to some time next Tuesday.
When my connection miraculously sprung back to life - I was out for forty minutes - I still had nearly 80% of my initial 5000 chips. Things didn't improve much after that though, and I thought there can't be many tournaments where you can win just one pot in more than two hours of play and still show signs of life. In the third hour, with half my original stack left, I made a six badugi to virtually double up against a fellow short stack who I could tell had simply had enough of this badugi shit. I kept hanging in there but in the fourth hour, with half the 2408-player field remaining, I got involved with a couple of marginal hands and my stack was crippled. I was then dealt a one-card draw to a rough eight and had no real choice but to commit. I was three-bet by a monster draw and my tournament life hung by a thread. On the second draw I hit the two of diamonds to make 872A, my opponent missed, and I survived. I was about a 35/65 underdog on that hand. Two out of three times I would have exited right there.
I capitalised on my good fortune to build my stack up to 31,000 only to become one of the short stacks again as the money approached. When the bubble burst with 440 players left I was down to 11,000. Then something funny, but totally understandable when I think about it, happened. People started dropping like flies. You see, the payout structure was totally wack. Paying 440 is too many. Most of these people would only get their money back, plus a tiny bit more, and what's the point of that? And even as players were eliminated, the payouts hardly went up at all; 200th only paid slightly more than 400th, while even 100th was only enough to double your money. So it was hardly surprising that many of the short stacks said "sod this" and loosened up their play. Hence I decided to do the exact opposite. I haven't got a lot of chips here, but if I can just wait for a good hand and let everyone else knock each other out, who knows?
This strategy seemed to work. I played straightforwardly, betting aggressively with my good three-cards and staying out of the way with anything dodgy. With eighty or so left I hit the tournament lead and, almost in disbelief, took a screen shot of the lobby. At the ten-hour mark I realised I had a number of advantages over much of the field:
1. Yes I've been playing for ten hours and I'm getting a little tired, but think of all the poor sods in the States downing cans of Red Bull to avoid falling asleep at the wheel, or rather the screen. In contrast it's 7pm here and I'm still very much awake.
2. I've taken - and studied for - a lot of exams in my time, so concentrating on one thing for ten hours or more in a day is not a foreign concept to me.
3. I'm playing only this tournament. There were big Omaha tournaments going on at the same time. The very thought of playing simultaneous badugi and Omaha sounds like a nightmare. And of course people will be playing cash games and surfing the net and heaven knows what else.
I never thought seriously about the money until we were down to two tables, or to be more specific, eleven players. By this stage I was guaranteed a couple of hundred, but man were there eleven of us for a long time. And my stack was dwindling. Reaching the final eight would mean an extra hundred or so, while seventh paid over twice what eighth did! I wondered what was so special about seventh. As I said, the payouts were all wack. In fairly dire chip poo, I then won two big hands. On the first of these I committed with 43A while my opponent, who had tried to push me off my hand, had complete junk. I won the second as my six badugi went up against a seven.
As we hit the much-needed 15-minute break at the twelve-hour mark, I was chip leader with five players left. I glanced at those prizes again. What's fourth? Whoa. What's third? Oh man. I took a walk around the block in a bit of a daze. On my return we were soon down to three. Many more hands become playable three-handed, so I had to keep telling myself not to just click fold all the time. When we got heads-up I was at a slight chip disadvantage. Also I’d played very little heads-up badugi so I was flying by the seat of my pants. What should I three-bet with pre-draw? Three-card sixes? Smooth sevens? Nine badugis are monsters now, right? My opponent then wanted to make a deal. He was talking chip equity numbers and I had no real idea if I was being screwed over or not. In hindsight perhaps I was (at the time I was behind in chips by nearly two to one) but some PokerStars guru was on hand and everything seemed above board. I felt I had very little bargaining power as I’d never been anywhere near that situation before, and heck, win or lose the resulting payout would be beyond my wildest dreams (I later found out that my foe had taken home four figures a few times before). I took over the chip lead and on a couple of occasions I was a massive favourite to win, but after going head-to-head for more than an hour I’d had my chips. Second place for a whopping payout of US$4758. I was stunned.
Despite the previous day winning more than enough to pay for my next car (and the insurance for it!), yesterday was just a normal day, though I was very tired from Tuesday’s 14-hour-plus marathon. I talked at length with my counsellor about my relationship with Mum. Last night I attended the men’s depression group for the first time in ages (and also the last time in ages). I’d thought about buying drinks for everyone as a gesture, or perhaps going across the road to Hell Pizza (which, as the player who beat me was called Hellhound, would have been appropriate). In the end, as Andy suggested, I just got a few nibbles. We chatted about life, one of the blokes read out part of a play he had written, and I even talked about my gambling exploits with a “don’t try this at home” disclaimer.
Yesterday I spent some time just sitting out in the garden; it was a glorious autumn day. I realised one thing: whatever my next job is, I don’t want it to involve staring at a screen for 14 hours a day. I want to see some sunshine, some people, some life. I haven’t done enough of that lately. Tomorrow I’ll be seeing the careers advisor again.
The results of Britain’s general election will come in tomorrow. It will be a very tight race. If I was still in my old job I’d follow it on the internet at work, but I’m not sure if I will tomorrow. I’m hoping for a hung parliament and the Lib Dems to gain some influence, though I’m not sure it will really make much difference whatever happens.
It’s not long till I’ll be on the plane and I’ve still got so much to do before then. Maybe tomorrow I’ll write a quick post giving some idea of my itinerary over the next six or seven weeks. One thing’s for sure: poker will be off the radar.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Please Mum, try to understand
Mum left this morning. For four days we got on like a house on fire, or almost, as she tidied and organised my flat and made lists for this or that. On Friday we saw Boy which I found quite moving; it certainly lived up to its very positive reviews. On Saturday we ate at Manna, the local Thai restaurant. My curry was predictably very tasty. But yesterday afternoon everything kicked off. I was depressed and wasn't in the mood for doing anything. We went to the supermarket. Now I don't do supermarkets when I'm depressed, and certainly not in the daytime when it's busy. An exception to this was after last Saturday's tennis disaster when I needed basics like bread and milk. That time I literally ran through the supermarket aisles, grabbed my bread and milk, and got the hell out of there as fast as I could. Yesterday I told Mum I needed to get out of there, fast, and that's when all hell broke loose. She was very upset and angry with the way I acted in the supermarket. I was dumbstruck. What did I do wrong?! When we got back to my flat we had a three-hour argument, if you can call it that. I made the fatal mistake of trying to reason with her and explain my depression. "But I get depressed too, you know." No you bloody well don't. "You've got no respect for your mother!" Of course I respect you. "All I get from you is hate, hate, hate!" What?! Are you serious? I love you. Unfortunately Mum's understanding of depression is in the dark ages, and I hate to say it but after thirty years I sometimes wonder if she really understands me either. But I love her. A lot.
Last Tuesday I saw Career Services. My advisor was clearly a very clever woman. We talked about all the various options, and finding a suitable job this side of Christmas suddenly seemed possible. I'll be seeing her again on Friday.
I'll be leaving the country in under five days and I'm starting to actually think about my trip. I'm a bit worried about the Thailand bit on the way back, with all the unrest currently happening there. If I decide to hop over to any of the neighbouring countries I'll need a visa, but things might be fine in Thailand in a month's time.
Tomorrow I'll be playing the low buy-in SCOOP badugi tournament. I'm lucky that it's a 9am start on a day when I don't have to do anything, and it's happening before I go away. It's a much deeper tournament than anything I've played before and I could be playing for several hours. Or not. I'll give a report in my next post.
Last Tuesday I saw Career Services. My advisor was clearly a very clever woman. We talked about all the various options, and finding a suitable job this side of Christmas suddenly seemed possible. I'll be seeing her again on Friday.
I'll be leaving the country in under five days and I'm starting to actually think about my trip. I'm a bit worried about the Thailand bit on the way back, with all the unrest currently happening there. If I decide to hop over to any of the neighbouring countries I'll need a visa, but things might be fine in Thailand in a month's time.
Tomorrow I'll be playing the low buy-in SCOOP badugi tournament. I'm lucky that it's a 9am start on a day when I don't have to do anything, and it's happening before I go away. It's a much deeper tournament than anything I've played before and I could be playing for several hours. Or not. I'll give a report in my next post.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Life stages
Following yesterday's Anzac Day service I met up with four others from the Asperger's group at St Lukes mall. After much discussion regarding the choice of film, we eventually plumped for Date Night which was hilarious in places, though I was hardly in the mood for comedy. It looked like we would see Boy which I must make sure I see before I go away. It was good to meet up with Richard and the others whose Asperger's were at varying levels and affected them in very different ways.
After Saturday's embarrassment I didn't particularly want to talk about my other tennis matches, but on Thursday I played what I imagine was my last ever match with Bazza. I'd rather not mention the score (I mean I'd love to, but we were only playing for the love of the game so the score hardly mattered). To cut a short story even shorter, we were outclassed in our second round match. Bazza was a talismanic figure at the club ("c'mon Belmont!") even if he could get on my nerves at times. Now that he's gone, that's one less reason for me to play there.
Saturday's singles - that match - was also a second-rounder. In the first round I got lucky and faced an inexperienced player. I struggled to an error-strewn 7-5 6-1 win. It wasn't much fun.
My dad flies back from the UK in a few hours' time. I think he's glad to leave and relieved that the unpronounceable Icelandic volcano won't stop him. The last four weeks, with my grandmother, haven't been easy for him. And as for my aunt, the less said about her the better.
Mum arrives here on Wednesday (by accident she booked her flight on the same day Dad returns from the UK). I'm looking forward to seeing her.
Tomorrow I'll be seeing a careers advisor. For once I'll be brutally honest and tell her what I want to do (and what I don't). I'll have to go to Mt Eden for this appointment (they recently closed the Takapuna office). On Wednesday, just before Mum gets here, I'll be meeting with my counsellor.
It's been a pain not having a car. Buses wouldn't be such a problem if I was making the same journey all the time, such as going to and from work, but as that's not the case I've found it all a bit of a struggle. I see people waltz onto the bus and ask nonchalantly for one or two or three stages. How do they know how many stages it is? I've never seen a sign telling me I'm about to enter the such-and-such stage. And what's to stop you from staying on for an extra stage or two? I can't imagine the driver remembering exactly who has paid for what. On occasions I've bought an all-day ticket that lets you bypass all that stage malarkey, but even some of the drivers don't know about this ticket, or at least they pretend not to.
On Thursday I entered an 18-man private tournament which one of the badugi regulars set up. It was a limit tournament with rapidly increasing blinds at the start, so luck would play a huge part in the outcome. I got a lot of luck, almost an embarrassing amount of it. When we got down to three I had over 80% of the chips in play, and soon it was all over. I followed that win with a fifth-place finish in last night's pot-limit tournament. That good fortune hasn't flowed through to the cash games. My overall profit did top $600 for the first time today, but nine of the last ten hands I showed down were losers and I ended the session at $599.
After Saturday's embarrassment I didn't particularly want to talk about my other tennis matches, but on Thursday I played what I imagine was my last ever match with Bazza. I'd rather not mention the score (I mean I'd love to, but we were only playing for the love of the game so the score hardly mattered). To cut a short story even shorter, we were outclassed in our second round match. Bazza was a talismanic figure at the club ("c'mon Belmont!") even if he could get on my nerves at times. Now that he's gone, that's one less reason for me to play there.
Saturday's singles - that match - was also a second-rounder. In the first round I got lucky and faced an inexperienced player. I struggled to an error-strewn 7-5 6-1 win. It wasn't much fun.
My dad flies back from the UK in a few hours' time. I think he's glad to leave and relieved that the unpronounceable Icelandic volcano won't stop him. The last four weeks, with my grandmother, haven't been easy for him. And as for my aunt, the less said about her the better.
Mum arrives here on Wednesday (by accident she booked her flight on the same day Dad returns from the UK). I'm looking forward to seeing her.
Tomorrow I'll be seeing a careers advisor. For once I'll be brutally honest and tell her what I want to do (and what I don't). I'll have to go to Mt Eden for this appointment (they recently closed the Takapuna office). On Wednesday, just before Mum gets here, I'll be meeting with my counsellor.
It's been a pain not having a car. Buses wouldn't be such a problem if I was making the same journey all the time, such as going to and from work, but as that's not the case I've found it all a bit of a struggle. I see people waltz onto the bus and ask nonchalantly for one or two or three stages. How do they know how many stages it is? I've never seen a sign telling me I'm about to enter the such-and-such stage. And what's to stop you from staying on for an extra stage or two? I can't imagine the driver remembering exactly who has paid for what. On occasions I've bought an all-day ticket that lets you bypass all that stage malarkey, but even some of the drivers don't know about this ticket, or at least they pretend not to.
On Thursday I entered an 18-man private tournament which one of the badugi regulars set up. It was a limit tournament with rapidly increasing blinds at the start, so luck would play a huge part in the outcome. I got a lot of luck, almost an embarrassing amount of it. When we got down to three I had over 80% of the chips in play, and soon it was all over. I followed that win with a fifth-place finish in last night's pot-limit tournament. That good fortune hasn't flowed through to the cash games. My overall profit did top $600 for the first time today, but nine of the last ten hands I showed down were losers and I ended the session at $599.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Two out of three ain't bad
This morning I played my last tennis match for the season and perhaps my last for a few seasons. I got out of bed, I made my way to the courts, I didn't win. In fact I got utterly thrashed. But in the words of Meat Loaf, that's two out of three which isn't too bad under the circumstances. I wanted the match over with as quickly as possible and got my wish. I lost 6-1 6-1 and was lucky to win two games, but I didn't care. We played on Court 1 where everyone could watch. They must have wondered what was going on. It was a match I never would have won even in the old days when I could still just about play the game, but this time I couldn't get off the court fast enough. At times I'd call out the score - "love-forty!" - before the point was over because I knew I was beaten. Matches are still going on as I write this, and a lot of people are down at the club watching them, but the thought of watching people play - and enjoy - good tennis on a sunny afternoon was too much to bear. And besides, I felt embarrassed. I went straight home, not knowing when I'll play tennis next. I wouldn't mind if I had a friend I could get the occasional knock with, but being part of a club and everything that goes with that is just too much right now.
It's strange what depression does to me. Not only do I stop caring, I also find it very weird that other people still do care. I have to remind myself that there was once a time that I cared too.
Tomorrow I'll attend the Anzac Day parade in Devonport and later meet up in St Lukes with a few of the Asperger's group to watch a movie. I'm looking forward to that.
It's strange what depression does to me. Not only do I stop caring, I also find it very weird that other people still do care. I have to remind myself that there was once a time that I cared too.
Tomorrow I'll attend the Anzac Day parade in Devonport and later meet up in St Lukes with a few of the Asperger's group to watch a movie. I'm looking forward to that.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Club champs commentary
Monday night's mixed doubles match was almost entirely rally-free and we were done and dusted in forty minutes. We lost 6-1 6-2. I don't think my partner particularly liked getting thrashed. I've played more and have experienced being thrashed more than she has, so it didn't bother me too much, especially because we won about the number of games that I thought we would. I wasn't happy after the match, however, when I found we would go into a plate competition. More tennis?! Please. Don't you understand? I only play this bloody game for exercise, and I'm playing every night as it is.
Last night was the men's doubles with Bazza. I'd been dreading it. It was a match we were expected to win (our opponents are fairly new to the game) but with the way I was feeling at the time, nothing was guaranteed. The match was delayed a bit, so I talked to a few people at the club and I felt more relaxed (sometimes that would have the exact opposite effect - I can no longer predict these things). The scores were close early on, but we pulled away to win 6-3 6-0. Both of us played steady tennis and it was like the old days when we used to win on a regular basis. As always with Bazza there were a couple of controversial moments. He called a ball out that I watched land plum on the line (or is it plumb?). I had a play on that ball and returned it, pretending that I hadn't heard him. But Bazza stopped play, called "Ouwwwt!" again, and our opponents accepted his call. I have overruled him in the past, but this time we were on Court 1 with dozens of people watching, and I didn't want to make a scene. Another time we accidentally started a game receiving from the wrong sides, but we did a quick switcheroo and our opponents failed to notice that Bazza had received two serves in a row. Tonight I've got my first round singles match; I happen to have drawn the better of our doubles opponents from last night.
I had lunch at the Patriot with Andy for my birthday. A very satisfying salmon salad.
Last night was the men's doubles with Bazza. I'd been dreading it. It was a match we were expected to win (our opponents are fairly new to the game) but with the way I was feeling at the time, nothing was guaranteed. The match was delayed a bit, so I talked to a few people at the club and I felt more relaxed (sometimes that would have the exact opposite effect - I can no longer predict these things). The scores were close early on, but we pulled away to win 6-3 6-0. Both of us played steady tennis and it was like the old days when we used to win on a regular basis. As always with Bazza there were a couple of controversial moments. He called a ball out that I watched land plum on the line (or is it plumb?). I had a play on that ball and returned it, pretending that I hadn't heard him. But Bazza stopped play, called "Ouwwwt!" again, and our opponents accepted his call. I have overruled him in the past, but this time we were on Court 1 with dozens of people watching, and I didn't want to make a scene. Another time we accidentally started a game receiving from the wrong sides, but we did a quick switcheroo and our opponents failed to notice that Bazza had received two serves in a row. Tonight I've got my first round singles match; I happen to have drawn the better of our doubles opponents from last night.
I had lunch at the Patriot with Andy for my birthday. A very satisfying salmon salad.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Ticking over
Today is the last day of my twenties. I can't say I'm looking forward to ticking over to a new decade. The fact that everything will end in a zero all at once - my age, the year, even the day - doesn't help. Tomorrow I'll be meeting Andy for lunch; it was very kind of him to suggest that, and it's about as big a birthday celebration as I could face right now. The last time I had a party, if you can call it that, it wasn't much fun. We ended up in some horrible sports bar in Birmingham (it might even have been the Sports Bar) where we couldn't hear ourselves think, let alone speak, and none of us enjoyed it, least of all me.
Being on the verge of thirty was one reason why I quit my job. It was time I stopped pretending to be someone else. I now know I couldn't go back to that sort of environment again, well not for a good few years at least. The question is, what now? English teaching and the mental health industry are my two main options. Oh, and my puzzles of course. I mustn't forget those.
On Saturday I attended the monthly Asperger's group. It's always an amazing experience. So many people, so little time. There were at least two totally new people there, one of whom you might call a typical "Aspie" - "hello, my name's Peter and I invent things", but the other was anything but. Whether he was trying to shock or impress me I don't know, but outwardly it appeared he was a born risk-taker with an enormous amount of confidence.
I took second place in Saturday night's badugi tournament. However there were only 37 runners so the payout wasn't huge, and I gave all my winnings back - and more - in yesterday's cash games. I thought I might have better luck in last night's tournament but bowed out in ninth place out of 55 when the top eight paid. I got all my chips in with an unbreakable pat queen, figuring that any pat badugi is gold dust at a four-handed table, but my opponent made a six on the first draw and I was out. A bad day at the office you might say. The good news is that I play at a low enough level than I can afford bad days. My overall profit stands at just over US$550.
I've put my name down for this week's club champs. I'm playing in all three tournaments - singles, doubles and mixed - so yesterday I popped along to club day for some practice. I got more practice than I bargained for. They'd organised a mini "FUN!" tournament. These days I find that anything billed as "FUN!" almost always isn't. We played a series of 20-minute doubles matches with sudden-death deuce, with prizes given to the man and woman who win the most games, regardless of how many they might lose along the way. So you're better off with 4-4 draw, say, than a 3-2 win. Of course I would never have been in the running whatever the format, and I think the eventual winners had won more games than I'd even played. There were too many people on the courts and I hated the whole experience. In the last match I was just going through the motions. Virtually every ball I hit went miles out, not that I cared. I just wanted to get home. I waited around for half an hour while they presented prizes for this and that, not wanting to appear rude. "We've had such a Fan Tastic afternoon of tennis. It seems like every member of the club turned up today (you're telling me). It's so Fan Tastic that you could all make it."
My three matches in the club champs are on consecutive nights starting tonight. My first match, a mixed doubles, won't be a problem because it's a match we're expected to lose. The other two, which I actually have a chance of winning, I can't say I'm looking forward to. I'll post my results later in the week.
Being on the verge of thirty was one reason why I quit my job. It was time I stopped pretending to be someone else. I now know I couldn't go back to that sort of environment again, well not for a good few years at least. The question is, what now? English teaching and the mental health industry are my two main options. Oh, and my puzzles of course. I mustn't forget those.
On Saturday I attended the monthly Asperger's group. It's always an amazing experience. So many people, so little time. There were at least two totally new people there, one of whom you might call a typical "Aspie" - "hello, my name's Peter and I invent things", but the other was anything but. Whether he was trying to shock or impress me I don't know, but outwardly it appeared he was a born risk-taker with an enormous amount of confidence.
I took second place in Saturday night's badugi tournament. However there were only 37 runners so the payout wasn't huge, and I gave all my winnings back - and more - in yesterday's cash games. I thought I might have better luck in last night's tournament but bowed out in ninth place out of 55 when the top eight paid. I got all my chips in with an unbreakable pat queen, figuring that any pat badugi is gold dust at a four-handed table, but my opponent made a six on the first draw and I was out. A bad day at the office you might say. The good news is that I play at a low enough level than I can afford bad days. My overall profit stands at just over US$550.
I've put my name down for this week's club champs. I'm playing in all three tournaments - singles, doubles and mixed - so yesterday I popped along to club day for some practice. I got more practice than I bargained for. They'd organised a mini "FUN!" tournament. These days I find that anything billed as "FUN!" almost always isn't. We played a series of 20-minute doubles matches with sudden-death deuce, with prizes given to the man and woman who win the most games, regardless of how many they might lose along the way. So you're better off with 4-4 draw, say, than a 3-2 win. Of course I would never have been in the running whatever the format, and I think the eventual winners had won more games than I'd even played. There were too many people on the courts and I hated the whole experience. In the last match I was just going through the motions. Virtually every ball I hit went miles out, not that I cared. I just wanted to get home. I waited around for half an hour while they presented prizes for this and that, not wanting to appear rude. "We've had such a Fan Tastic afternoon of tennis. It seems like every member of the club turned up today (you're telling me). It's so Fan Tastic that you could all make it."
My three matches in the club champs are on consecutive nights starting tonight. My first match, a mixed doubles, won't be a problem because it's a match we're expected to lose. The other two, which I actually have a chance of winning, I can't say I'm looking forward to. I'll post my results later in the week.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Panic stations
I had panic attacks both yesterday and the day before. At least I think that's what they were. One moment everything was normal, then the whole room started to spin, as if I'd been drinking, and I couldn't feel my arms or legs. Yesterday's one happened at around 9pm. I felt sick and lay on my stomach on my bed for a while. I then felt very weak and exceptionally hungry, like I hadn't eaten for days. What can I have that's quick? Weet-Bix. But that milk container is so heavy! I unplugged the phone (it was about the time Mum was likely to ring), ate my Weet-Bix in bed (the sugar tasted much sweeter than it normally does) and then went to sleep. This morning I'm fine.
I've had an up-and-down sort of week. Hopeful one day, utterly hopeless the next. On Monday night at Takapuna I played my last pair of interclub matches for the season. In my singles I was totally outgunned by a 17-year-old whose father coaches the game and whose 12-year-old sister is ranked second in the country for her age group (and can now beat her big brother). Man did that serve come down fast. His forehand was an equally effective weapon; I aimed everything at his backhand which, unfortunately for me, he was often able to run round. The Takapuna courts had ample space between the baseline and the fence, which was just as well because I needed virtually all of it. I lost the first set 6-2 in 22 minutes (yes I timed it again). The second was closer: at 3-3 I had a point to win each of the next two games. Had I won those points the outcome might have been different, but in the last game at 5-4 he slammed down four more booming serves to snuff out any chance I might have had. I broke his serve just once in the match; in that game he double faulted twice to give me a love-30 head start, and even then I only just won it.
What happened next, in the doubles with Superman, was quite a surprise. We played well but we were up against two young guys (including the one who had just beaten me) who were only interested in the singles. Once we were on top, they simply didn't care, and we won 6-1 6-1. The night's other matches also reached a swift conclusion and we were able to have a few drinks afterwards. Being a Monday night, and ... er ... New Zealand, everything is normally shut by the time we get off the court. After Saturday's experience which I found pretty horrible, I can almost say I enjoyed my tennis on Monday.
I spoke to my dad last night (my panic attack, or whatever it was, happened almost has we hung up). We had a good chat, mainly because we never talked about me. My grandmother isn't as bad as my dad had feared, but she's losing her memory and that is upsetting her. In fact she lived in morbid fear of losing her memory long before it actually happened.
Yesterday I started to think about the ins and outs of my trip for maybe the first time. I really don't like to plan things. The future, even a positive future such as a holiday, tends to scare me. I booked a Ryanair flight from Stansted to Brescia for May 12th; my plan is to spend nine days or so exploring the north of Italy, then visit Marseille, get the TGV up to Paris, go to Roland-Garros if I can somehow wangle myself a ticket, then catch the Eurostar (which I haven't booked yet) back to London.
Talking of UK flights, due to the volcanic eruption in Iceland, nobody in or around the UK is currently flying anywhere.
This afternoon I'll be meeting Richard and the rest of the Asperger's gang for their monthly meeting. I'm looking forward to it. It's one of the highlights of my month.
I've had an up-and-down sort of week. Hopeful one day, utterly hopeless the next. On Monday night at Takapuna I played my last pair of interclub matches for the season. In my singles I was totally outgunned by a 17-year-old whose father coaches the game and whose 12-year-old sister is ranked second in the country for her age group (and can now beat her big brother). Man did that serve come down fast. His forehand was an equally effective weapon; I aimed everything at his backhand which, unfortunately for me, he was often able to run round. The Takapuna courts had ample space between the baseline and the fence, which was just as well because I needed virtually all of it. I lost the first set 6-2 in 22 minutes (yes I timed it again). The second was closer: at 3-3 I had a point to win each of the next two games. Had I won those points the outcome might have been different, but in the last game at 5-4 he slammed down four more booming serves to snuff out any chance I might have had. I broke his serve just once in the match; in that game he double faulted twice to give me a love-30 head start, and even then I only just won it.
What happened next, in the doubles with Superman, was quite a surprise. We played well but we were up against two young guys (including the one who had just beaten me) who were only interested in the singles. Once we were on top, they simply didn't care, and we won 6-1 6-1. The night's other matches also reached a swift conclusion and we were able to have a few drinks afterwards. Being a Monday night, and ... er ... New Zealand, everything is normally shut by the time we get off the court. After Saturday's experience which I found pretty horrible, I can almost say I enjoyed my tennis on Monday.
I spoke to my dad last night (my panic attack, or whatever it was, happened almost has we hung up). We had a good chat, mainly because we never talked about me. My grandmother isn't as bad as my dad had feared, but she's losing her memory and that is upsetting her. In fact she lived in morbid fear of losing her memory long before it actually happened.
Yesterday I started to think about the ins and outs of my trip for maybe the first time. I really don't like to plan things. The future, even a positive future such as a holiday, tends to scare me. I booked a Ryanair flight from Stansted to Brescia for May 12th; my plan is to spend nine days or so exploring the north of Italy, then visit Marseille, get the TGV up to Paris, go to Roland-Garros if I can somehow wangle myself a ticket, then catch the Eurostar (which I haven't booked yet) back to London.
Talking of UK flights, due to the volcanic eruption in Iceland, nobody in or around the UK is currently flying anywhere.
This afternoon I'll be meeting Richard and the rest of the Asperger's gang for their monthly meeting. I'm looking forward to it. It's one of the highlights of my month.
Monday, April 12, 2010
I'm NOT being negative
It hasn't been a great few days. My conversation with Dad on Wednesday only made me feel worse about myself. I told him about the puzzles and how much they were paying me. "Is that dollars or pounds?" was his immediate reply. Pounds I said (I'd converted the figure). "Oh well. Better than nothing I suppose. I hope they're not taking you too long." C'mon Dad. Give me some encouragement, please. When we hung up, I felt sick. Why do I even bother? If the figure had been in dollars (and therefore less than half as much) I wonder what he might have said then?!
My dad's an artist. Paints pictures. He's made a living from it since 1977. I'm very proud of him. But as you can imagine, his income is unpredictable. He'll sell twenty paintings at an exhibition and then nothing for weeks. These barren spells really get him down. Not because they put my parents in financial dire straits (they don't), but because he only feels his work is any good if people are buying it. When he does make a sale - or two - after a dry patch, the last thing I'd say to him is, "oh right, only a small one then. Hope it didn't take you too long." Let's face it, making any kind of living out of selling art is no mean feat. And it isn't the eighties any more. When I was a kid, his paintings almost flew off the walls. He was one of the best in the business in my own (perhaps biased) opinion, and still is, but art was a fashionable thing to have back then, and people appreciated good art. Now people don't want to cough up two weeks' wages on something to stick on the wall, and would rather spend that sort of money on a 52-inch LCD TV. Or is it LED?
When I met my counsellor later on Wednesday, we talked about all the negativity coming from my parents, and strategies to deal with it. The next day, when I spoke to Mum, I tried out one of these strategies. It failed miserably. I told her that my brother (who almost stopped communicating with my parents for five years) had the right idea. She put the phone down on me. We did later repair much of the damage, but it wasn't nice.
I do think Mum and Dad are partly to blame (they do like to seek out worst-case scenarios) but a lot of the problem is my level of self-confidence. Most of the time this hovers around zero, and when I'm depressed it drops well below zero. I don't have many people to talk to, so anything my parents say (especially if it's less than positive) carries far more weight than it should. Hell, I'll be thirty next week! I'm old enough to have my own family.
I stayed up till 1:30 on Friday night to finish those puzzles (I'd better not tell Dad that) and on Saturday I played tennis. I was on the court in body, but not really in mind. Our opponents were a level above us, so it was hardly surprising that of the four sets I played, I lost three of them 6-1. The first match, with Bazza, started atrociously. The opening set was over in 19 minutes (isn't it funny that I thought to time it?); we put up a much better fight in an hour-long second set, storming out to a shock 5-2 lead and bringing up a set point. But in the end it was a struggle even to take the set to a tie-break, which we lost 7-3. The mixed match wasn't much fun. It was typical of many of my recent on-court experiences. At the start I at least have some idea of what I'm doing, but after a while I no longer know where I am or who I am or why I am. I was really only playing for the exercise and the mental health benefits I get from that; all those games and sets hardly mattered. I'll be playing again tonight.
My poker profit broke through the $500 barrier yesterday in unexpected fashion. I had my first ever tournament victory in a 66-man pot-limit badugi event. Reaching the latter stages of a tournament always requires a slice of luck, and I received mine when, short-stacked and half a dozen players from the money, I hit a seven-outer on the last draw to survive. For once I capitalised on my good fortune by building a healthy stack. Eventually we were down to three. Every time I raised, the player to my left would reraise the max and I'd fold as would my other opponent. Then I got dealt a K-9 badugi (you could perhaps call that a badoggie). I raised. Sure enough, he reraised. I don't think you've got anything. I just had him covered and put him all in. He called and drew two. My badoggie held up. Heads-up play didn't last long. My opponent wasn't aggressive enough, or just went card dead, probably a bit of both, and I emerged as the winner.
Now is a good time to take a short break from online poker. I've got a whole list of jobs that need doing before I go away. Lately poker has been something of an escapism. And it's got well-defined rules, it feels predictable, safe even. I know that probably sounds ridiculous. But after a few hours staring at virtual images of cards and chips flying around the screen, I feel I've wasted that time, and often get more depressed.
I met up with Phil shortly after my poker win. We played pétanque at Bayswater and then had a long chat over a coffee. He's emigrating to Denmark at the end of the month, to live with his girlfriend he met on a work trip over there. I told him about my puzzles; he thinks I could make a serious business out of them if only I'd publicise myself a bit more. When I think about it, I've gone to great lengths not to publicise myself, in all aspects of my life. It was great to see Phil though; he doesn't have any preconceived ideas about how people should live their lives.
Today I'm coming out of my latest bout of depression. When I'm depressed, nothing matters and I don't notice anything. Birds, dogs, trees, music, TV, other people, anything outside me and my depression completely washes over me. Sometimes I can't understand how the rest of the world keeps functioning as normal when I'm malfunctioning so badly. When I get back from my trip I think I'll move out of this flat. Living by myself isn't helping me.
My dad's an artist. Paints pictures. He's made a living from it since 1977. I'm very proud of him. But as you can imagine, his income is unpredictable. He'll sell twenty paintings at an exhibition and then nothing for weeks. These barren spells really get him down. Not because they put my parents in financial dire straits (they don't), but because he only feels his work is any good if people are buying it. When he does make a sale - or two - after a dry patch, the last thing I'd say to him is, "oh right, only a small one then. Hope it didn't take you too long." Let's face it, making any kind of living out of selling art is no mean feat. And it isn't the eighties any more. When I was a kid, his paintings almost flew off the walls. He was one of the best in the business in my own (perhaps biased) opinion, and still is, but art was a fashionable thing to have back then, and people appreciated good art. Now people don't want to cough up two weeks' wages on something to stick on the wall, and would rather spend that sort of money on a 52-inch LCD TV. Or is it LED?
When I met my counsellor later on Wednesday, we talked about all the negativity coming from my parents, and strategies to deal with it. The next day, when I spoke to Mum, I tried out one of these strategies. It failed miserably. I told her that my brother (who almost stopped communicating with my parents for five years) had the right idea. She put the phone down on me. We did later repair much of the damage, but it wasn't nice.
I do think Mum and Dad are partly to blame (they do like to seek out worst-case scenarios) but a lot of the problem is my level of self-confidence. Most of the time this hovers around zero, and when I'm depressed it drops well below zero. I don't have many people to talk to, so anything my parents say (especially if it's less than positive) carries far more weight than it should. Hell, I'll be thirty next week! I'm old enough to have my own family.
I stayed up till 1:30 on Friday night to finish those puzzles (I'd better not tell Dad that) and on Saturday I played tennis. I was on the court in body, but not really in mind. Our opponents were a level above us, so it was hardly surprising that of the four sets I played, I lost three of them 6-1. The first match, with Bazza, started atrociously. The opening set was over in 19 minutes (isn't it funny that I thought to time it?); we put up a much better fight in an hour-long second set, storming out to a shock 5-2 lead and bringing up a set point. But in the end it was a struggle even to take the set to a tie-break, which we lost 7-3. The mixed match wasn't much fun. It was typical of many of my recent on-court experiences. At the start I at least have some idea of what I'm doing, but after a while I no longer know where I am or who I am or why I am. I was really only playing for the exercise and the mental health benefits I get from that; all those games and sets hardly mattered. I'll be playing again tonight.
My poker profit broke through the $500 barrier yesterday in unexpected fashion. I had my first ever tournament victory in a 66-man pot-limit badugi event. Reaching the latter stages of a tournament always requires a slice of luck, and I received mine when, short-stacked and half a dozen players from the money, I hit a seven-outer on the last draw to survive. For once I capitalised on my good fortune by building a healthy stack. Eventually we were down to three. Every time I raised, the player to my left would reraise the max and I'd fold as would my other opponent. Then I got dealt a K-9 badugi (you could perhaps call that a badoggie). I raised. Sure enough, he reraised. I don't think you've got anything. I just had him covered and put him all in. He called and drew two. My badoggie held up. Heads-up play didn't last long. My opponent wasn't aggressive enough, or just went card dead, probably a bit of both, and I emerged as the winner.
Now is a good time to take a short break from online poker. I've got a whole list of jobs that need doing before I go away. Lately poker has been something of an escapism. And it's got well-defined rules, it feels predictable, safe even. I know that probably sounds ridiculous. But after a few hours staring at virtual images of cards and chips flying around the screen, I feel I've wasted that time, and often get more depressed.
I met up with Phil shortly after my poker win. We played pétanque at Bayswater and then had a long chat over a coffee. He's emigrating to Denmark at the end of the month, to live with his girlfriend he met on a work trip over there. I told him about my puzzles; he thinks I could make a serious business out of them if only I'd publicise myself a bit more. When I think about it, I've gone to great lengths not to publicise myself, in all aspects of my life. It was great to see Phil though; he doesn't have any preconceived ideas about how people should live their lives.
Today I'm coming out of my latest bout of depression. When I'm depressed, nothing matters and I don't notice anything. Birds, dogs, trees, music, TV, other people, anything outside me and my depression completely washes over me. Sometimes I can't understand how the rest of the world keeps functioning as normal when I'm malfunctioning so badly. When I get back from my trip I think I'll move out of this flat. Living by myself isn't helping me.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Getting to know my brother again
I spoke to my brother on the phone this morning. That's not something that happens every day. In fact it only just happens every year. I get the impression that this latest course, in which he lost two stone, has left an indelible mark on him. From a typically short email he sent me: "the army's not worth getting your legs blown off for ... I've put myself in harm's way enough in my time already." That's the first time he's ever come out with something like that. He's got a new girlfriend, Heidi, six foot tall. I figured she must be German but apparently not.
In the last few days, everything has been getting me down. My to-do list that keeps getting longer. My phone conversations with Dad where I feel he's judging me. The online poker - win or lose, I feel guilty about playing. And yesterday I got a phone call from my uncle about a possible actuarial job. Please, no! I'll have to apply for this job which will only put me back in the industry I so desperately wanted to leave, just to please my uncle and my parents.
I saw my counsellor this morning; this was good timing. She told me I really don't have to apply for a job I don't want just to please other people. This of course is true.
I spoke to Bazza this evening. On Saturday we'll be partnering each other in interclub for probably the last time ever.
A few months back I suggested that Scrabble's word list needed some serious weeding out. Well I heard today that they plan to do quite the opposite by allowing proper names. So if, for instance, someone plays the word QUART, I can (using a blank of course) make QUARTZ and BAZZA, scoring roughly a squillion points. Yuck. The good news is that these new relaxed rules only apply to a special new version of the game, and the rest of us can carry on playing as normal. Which makes me wonder, what's the point in the special edition? People can play under whatever rules they like, so long as everyone agrees, with a normal Scrabble set.
Tomorrow lunchtime I'll be seeing Mandy, the only real friend I had at my old job. She's still there, and still wishes she wasn't. Before then I'll be catching up with Andy. So we've got the Andy and Mandy show.
In the last few days, everything has been getting me down. My to-do list that keeps getting longer. My phone conversations with Dad where I feel he's judging me. The online poker - win or lose, I feel guilty about playing. And yesterday I got a phone call from my uncle about a possible actuarial job. Please, no! I'll have to apply for this job which will only put me back in the industry I so desperately wanted to leave, just to please my uncle and my parents.
I saw my counsellor this morning; this was good timing. She told me I really don't have to apply for a job I don't want just to please other people. This of course is true.
I spoke to Bazza this evening. On Saturday we'll be partnering each other in interclub for probably the last time ever.
A few months back I suggested that Scrabble's word list needed some serious weeding out. Well I heard today that they plan to do quite the opposite by allowing proper names. So if, for instance, someone plays the word QUART, I can (using a blank of course) make QUARTZ and BAZZA, scoring roughly a squillion points. Yuck. The good news is that these new relaxed rules only apply to a special new version of the game, and the rest of us can carry on playing as normal. Which makes me wonder, what's the point in the special edition? People can play under whatever rules they like, so long as everyone agrees, with a normal Scrabble set.
Tomorrow lunchtime I'll be seeing Mandy, the only real friend I had at my old job. She's still there, and still wishes she wasn't. Before then I'll be catching up with Andy. So we've got the Andy and Mandy show.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
I'm not addicted - honest
I'm tired and bunged up with cold, so I just want to go to bed. I'm looking forward to an extra hour there in the morning with our clocks going back.
Very little of note has happened since I last wrote. Dad arrived in the UK safely; while New Zealand is experiencing an Indian summer, Britain is the midst of whatever you call an everlasting winter. My brother has just got back from Brunei where he had the final stages of his SAS selection ordeal. Unlike most of those who start out, he got all the way to the end, but unfortunately (for him) didn't get selected. From what I gather, they had a small number of places and the final decision was something of a lottery. I'm very proud of my brother for getting that far; I personally couldn't think of anything worse. Apparently he's contemplating coming out of the army in the next year or so, perhaps concentrating on his parachute instruction which he currently does as a sideline. One of my top priorities on my trip is to catch up with him, to see him properly. Since I left the UK at the end of 2003, I've seen him just once, and that was only briefly. We've drifted apart, which is a real shame because although we're very different I think we'd get on well. Who knows, maybe I could even get a jump with him.
I spent this afternoon with Richard, and a very pleasant afternoon it was too. We chatted in a café in Mt Eden and then climbed the mountain itself. It was the first time I'd been up it. It was a great vantage point; looking out from the summit gave me some appreciation of Auckland's geography, which although I've lived here for six years, isn't great. I liked the map they had there; distances to various overseas cities were marked on it. It was nice to be reminded that the world is actually a big place; my world seems to have shrunk since I lost my car.
This paragraph will be nothing but online poker, so you may want to skip it. Next month PokerStars will be having its annual Spring Championship of Online Poker, or SCOOP for short. For each of the 38 events in the SCOOP, there are three tournaments (with low, medium and high buy-ins) that run alongside each other. The low badugi event has a $16.50 buy-in, and fortunately it's one of the first to run, so I'll be able to play it before I go away. I'd planned to pay for the buy-in out of my bankroll, but I realised I'd accumulated some frequent flyer points and wondered if I could somehow make use of those. For 70 points I could enter a turbo no-limit hold 'em satellite which gave entry to an $11 tournament for the top 10% or so. As the name "turbo" suggests, these satellites are all over in a flash, so I was able to have seven or eight goes at them without wasting too much precious time. I managed to qualify twice, but instead of entering those $11 tournaments, I unregistered and took the $22 which I could use to buy into any tournament I liked. Satellites to the SCOOP badugi had a $3.30 buy-in, so my $22 would give me six bullets to fire at those. My first attempt never really got going and I busted out around half-way. Yesterday I tried for a second time; I made an even worse start this time and my chip count was in three figures for nearly an hour. Staring elimination in the face, I survived by hitting a T42A badugi on the last draw when my ultra-aggressive opponent had a king. He liked to draw rough, so unusually for me I drew one card to the ten, figuring it stood to be the best hand if I could make it. My read was good but still I got lucky. That was the turning point for me. I then ran hot, and with the top three making it through, I soared up the leaderboard to second place where I stayed for the remainder of the tournament.
That all sounds rather convoluted (and I'm sure if Richard sees it he'll laugh - he's one of the few people I've told about my poker exploits, if that's the right word) but in short I've now got entry to a $16.50 tournament and have $15.40 I can use for other tournaments, all without dipping into my bankroll. And I've still got more of those frequent flyer points up my sleeve.
Yesterday was Good Friday - in New Zealand the same debate comes up year after year about whether shops should be allowed to open on that day. Contrary to popular belief, shops are allowed to open - they just have to pay a $1000 fine which in many cases is nothing. Although I'm not religious at all, I find it refreshing to have a day when people can't buy bathroom tiles or LCD TVs.
Next stop bed.
Very little of note has happened since I last wrote. Dad arrived in the UK safely; while New Zealand is experiencing an Indian summer, Britain is the midst of whatever you call an everlasting winter. My brother has just got back from Brunei where he had the final stages of his SAS selection ordeal. Unlike most of those who start out, he got all the way to the end, but unfortunately (for him) didn't get selected. From what I gather, they had a small number of places and the final decision was something of a lottery. I'm very proud of my brother for getting that far; I personally couldn't think of anything worse. Apparently he's contemplating coming out of the army in the next year or so, perhaps concentrating on his parachute instruction which he currently does as a sideline. One of my top priorities on my trip is to catch up with him, to see him properly. Since I left the UK at the end of 2003, I've seen him just once, and that was only briefly. We've drifted apart, which is a real shame because although we're very different I think we'd get on well. Who knows, maybe I could even get a jump with him.
I spent this afternoon with Richard, and a very pleasant afternoon it was too. We chatted in a café in Mt Eden and then climbed the mountain itself. It was the first time I'd been up it. It was a great vantage point; looking out from the summit gave me some appreciation of Auckland's geography, which although I've lived here for six years, isn't great. I liked the map they had there; distances to various overseas cities were marked on it. It was nice to be reminded that the world is actually a big place; my world seems to have shrunk since I lost my car.
This paragraph will be nothing but online poker, so you may want to skip it. Next month PokerStars will be having its annual Spring Championship of Online Poker, or SCOOP for short. For each of the 38 events in the SCOOP, there are three tournaments (with low, medium and high buy-ins) that run alongside each other. The low badugi event has a $16.50 buy-in, and fortunately it's one of the first to run, so I'll be able to play it before I go away. I'd planned to pay for the buy-in out of my bankroll, but I realised I'd accumulated some frequent flyer points and wondered if I could somehow make use of those. For 70 points I could enter a turbo no-limit hold 'em satellite which gave entry to an $11 tournament for the top 10% or so. As the name "turbo" suggests, these satellites are all over in a flash, so I was able to have seven or eight goes at them without wasting too much precious time. I managed to qualify twice, but instead of entering those $11 tournaments, I unregistered and took the $22 which I could use to buy into any tournament I liked. Satellites to the SCOOP badugi had a $3.30 buy-in, so my $22 would give me six bullets to fire at those. My first attempt never really got going and I busted out around half-way. Yesterday I tried for a second time; I made an even worse start this time and my chip count was in three figures for nearly an hour. Staring elimination in the face, I survived by hitting a T42A badugi on the last draw when my ultra-aggressive opponent had a king. He liked to draw rough, so unusually for me I drew one card to the ten, figuring it stood to be the best hand if I could make it. My read was good but still I got lucky. That was the turning point for me. I then ran hot, and with the top three making it through, I soared up the leaderboard to second place where I stayed for the remainder of the tournament.
That all sounds rather convoluted (and I'm sure if Richard sees it he'll laugh - he's one of the few people I've told about my poker exploits, if that's the right word) but in short I've now got entry to a $16.50 tournament and have $15.40 I can use for other tournaments, all without dipping into my bankroll. And I've still got more of those frequent flyer points up my sleeve.
Yesterday was Good Friday - in New Zealand the same debate comes up year after year about whether shops should be allowed to open on that day. Contrary to popular belief, shops are allowed to open - they just have to pay a $1000 fine which in many cases is nothing. Although I'm not religious at all, I find it refreshing to have a day when people can't buy bathroom tiles or LCD TVs.
Next stop bed.
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