X Marks the Spot

There are some things about which I am very perceptive. There are others where I have a severe blind spot. But, even in the case of the latter, it's clear to me NOW that I should not be playing any poker.

Jesus H. Christ I suck.

My decision-making is horrid. My attitude is way too careless. I'm not trying to play my best. I'm just playing. Gambling. Not good.

Which is how I end up at 8:30 p.m. out of both tourneys I entered tonight within 90 minutes, despite building a 5K stack after the first hour in the $16K on Full Tilt. I never even made it out of the Re-Buy period on Stars. It's sickening. And I should probably not play right now.

So, what else is going on?

I came up with a great idea for a screenplay. It would take WAY too much research for a book, but, like Hollywood itself, I can totally fudge on the details as long as the story moves. And it will. First and third acts write themselves. The second act is gonna be a problem. Need a sub-plot methinks. Gonna have to learn how to write a screenplay, too.

Went with AJ and X (in a nod to--and when I say "in a nod to," I mean "a blatant rip-off of"--Richard Ford and to retire the now hopelessly out-of-date term "dear and patient wife," I will be using 'X' to denote the woman who formerly treated me with some modicum of respect and admiration before she went completely insane) to see "Dragon Tales Live" at the local auditorium. It was not up to the lofty production values of the "Dora the Explorer" show we saw some time back and the sound was teh shit. Additionally, we made the tactical error of getting him some cotton candy prior to curtain, which resulted in excessive activity and a late-show sugar crash. He's currently resting thanks to a cycle of methadone.

The situation I find myself in at home is so surreal I don't even know where my ass is sometimes (work with me here). I have to interact with X every single day (though we are now sleeping in separate rooms, which is oddly comforting) even as she's telling some other guy she loves him. And I just amended our cell phone plan today to allow her more room for text messaging with him, a purely financial decision, but still, I AM enabling them to advance their adulterous, immoral liaison. Today we pretty much hammered out the details of the divorce and she's being utterly reasonable. That's guilt, I guess. "I already screwed you over; I'm not going to do it again," she says. (And for those of you out there who have been financially and custodially swindled by your lying, cheating spouses and are now shaking your heads at my naivate, thank you for your concern, but I've caught her in enough lies the past few months to know what it looks, and feels, like.)

Some of you might be wondering, "What the fuck was that on Friday then?" Well, you missed the point. Largely because I didn't provide it. It's true I thought there might be a chance, however infinitesimal, that my tapping the core issue may have caused her to think, "You know what? You're right. This flaw of mine has adversely affected every relationship I've ever had and I will never truly be able to give myself over to someone unless I fix it and I intend to do just that." Instead, I got a terse (figurative), "Fuck you."

Which is what I expected, to be honest. But it's still a good thing. Mostly, I don't have to lay awake every night trying to figure out the whats and whys and wherefores. Now I know. Second, it's done. I've reached acceptance (with the occasional dose of Stage 4 Depression thrown in). Not only do I firmly believe she'll never come back to me no matter what trials befall her (and really, they must). I also know I would never accept her back in any event, not without some serious counseling and desire to change on her part, and even then it's not bloody likely. So, I'm fully moving on. I've created a small pocket map of every high school in the immediate area. I've begun to scout escort services in adjacent counties. And bookmarked several Eastern European Mail Order Bride sites.

(Dear authorities and divorce lawyers, the last 3 sentences were written totally in jest. So declared by me, on this date 19 February in the Year of Our Lord 2006.)

I know there are more bad days in store. But slowly, I'm having more good ones. That unreachable pain is larely gone, replaced by a dull ache I only occasionally feel. I still do go on mega-tilt at seemingly benign things. But I try to do it in private. Or at the poker tables.