One More Writer

Well, I wrote up a nice long post and blogger ate it. Damn, that sucks. Anyway, I have plants now. See them? Here's some flowers I planted. They look wilty, despite me using tons of potting soil, manure and fertilizer. Not sure quite what to do with them. And here's a few potted plants I bought, oregano and spearmint. (The aloe vera belongs to my roomate, Andy.)

I bought the plants as a way to keep me busy doing something, as I don't really have friends here yet. People from work are nice and we're starting to hang out, but most of them have busy lives and/or spouses, so that's a no-go.

I've been spending most my free time playing online poker. I've found, to my surprise, that I kick ass at it. I spent most of May in a nearby Casino, playing against your standard village idiots. Oh, and I'm famous as a result: Check out this article. Ironically, that paper is owned by the parent company that owns my paper. But whatever. Use me as a source? Why should I care?

Anyway, after making $800 or so playing at the Casino, I had a few bad nights, bought some poker books, made a few bad decisions and whittled down my bankroll to $250. That was two weeks ago. But since then, I've logged 40 hours or so playing online poker, and brought my bankroll up close to $2,000. My relative risk is pretty low - for the most part, I'm playing $1/$2 limit hold-em. The most I'm likely to win or lose in one single hand is $20. I play four tables at once, and collect about three-fifths of my money from sign-up bonuses the online casinos use to bring new blood to the tables.

Needless to say, all this money makes me pretty apathetic about a journalist's salary. Not that they pay me poorly at the Daily Record, but damn, I can earn three times as much money sitting in front of my computer - and I have been. Perhaps work would be better if I received feedback about my stories - but that's happened twice so far in two months. Ink up my stories in red ink. Tear them. Shred them. Scream at me. But please, don't just run them in the paper and forget about them. I need this attention, I have an ego here people!

Yeah. In other news, I'm trying to find a church. No luck so far. Went to an all-black church in Fayetteville two Sundays ago. That was great, really nice people, but I didn't get the wear-nice-clothes memo. So I felt slightly out of place, an unshaven white guy in ratty khakis and a sports T, next to gleaming black folk in their Sunday best. "Oh look Mavis, it's a white feller! Too bad he don't know what a tie is!" The worship service was totally worth it, though. One of the women up front could REALLY sing. Then the pastor got up and started preaching. Halfway through, the organist came back to the bench and started playing chords, causing the pastor to chant what he was saying instead of just saying it. Wonderful stuff. But there's hardly anyone my age there, so I don't know if it's really the right fit.

On the dating front, things are pretty mellow. Lillian and I broke up, yet we still talk on the phone every day. She came to see me in June, which was wonderful. Can we date other people? Yes. But that hasn't been too interesting for either of us. Most females around here are either super-boring or married. Honestly, I'm too attached to Lilly to want to be with anyone else. The one date I've gone out on so far hasn't been too exciting ... a 28-year-old with a kid. Yeah, it bumps up my average dating age from 17.9 to 19.2, but she didn't really have much interesting stuff to talk about. Oh wow, you're a preschool teacher? Tell me more, I'm enthralled. Oh, your ex-husband was a compulsive liar? Maybe I shouldn't have started out by telling you I was a scuba diving instructor the first time I met you, then. (Yes, I did this.)

And that's all that's fit to print, for now. Will there be another update in July? Don't hold your breath. If you have tips on how to keep my plants alive, feel free to write me.