Poker, in a sense, is my vice.  My love to hate to play symptoms run hot and cold as I look at all the cards that lead to a busted bankroll.  And I’m playing right now on PokerStars in a $3.30 re-buy tourney, guaranteed 50K prize pool.  I took the add-on immediately and have now made it thru almost 4K players.  I’m in the dough, but not enough dough to be happy about.  Yah, human nature to always want the top of the ladder and the biggest pile of cash.  There are 201 players left.  I need to outlast them because I can’t outplay the bastards.

Riot’s birthday party was Sunday.  Fiasco City.  He had a good time and that’s really all that counts.  We hit Vegas a bit earlier than planned and went to Target to pick up a few last minute things and then off to Vons where we had ordered his cake on Thursday before leaving town.  I let him pick the one he wanted from their book and he changed his mind three times.  It was fun…and cute.  Not to worry, when we got to the bakery the cake wasn’t there.

I had specifically asked the clerk if we could have it by Sunday at noon.  No problem.  When I pulled out the receipt and the present clerk checked it, the fake bakery service person had written May 2nd on it.  Umnhhhh-that’s a Saturday.  No cake.  I didn’t go off or have a fit, but I wasn’t happy.  I asked to speak to a manager.  Of course they are out to lunch or some such something.  This clerk gave me a bigger sheet cake than what I ordered, after I futzed around about needing a cake, and wrote Happy 5th Birthday Riot on it for me.  And when I got to the check out, I found out it was free.  Riot picked this one out too.  I left my # for the assistant manager to call me when she came in.  She did.  Very nice and polite and I felt I voiced my disappointment over the whole thing but was happy that they at least tried to make the situation better.

When we got to the house, there were great banners and balloons hanging from the walls and ceilings.  He was pretty excited.  I had been priming his kid brain with ‘birthday party’ for three days.

(Damn poker, I made it to 198th place).

But as usual the parentals were not getting along well, mrs parental seemed to be in a snit, stomping out of her room long enough to do something that had nothing to do with me, and barely acknowledging me, and a half hour later when a few other parentals with kids appeared, mrs parental took one of them off with her to buy pizzas.  I think they found the local bar while they waited for the pizza order to be finished, they arrived back at the house about 2 hours later.  By that time everyone that was coming had been there and games were being played and coordinated by mr parental and other parents.  I’ve seen the show too many times and as much as I would have loved to stay and watch Riot blow out his birthday candles and sing happy birthday to him, I wasn’t going to stick around for the fireworks that always seem to hit on these occasions.  Just as I was loading up to leave, mrs parental came through the door, and I escaped without saying goodbye to anyone other than a few of the group, Riot, and mr parental.

I had a strange feeling of the aftermath as I drove the 70 miles to home.  It’s my house, yet I don’t feel comfortable there.  It used to be such a wonderful place and now it’s a shell filled with explosive emotion and hatred.  There is an undercurrent that can never be explained and each time something happens that mr parental does that mrs parental doesn’t like, I get a demanding text about it.  It’s not my turn to watch either of them.  So I’ve stopped even answering the texts.  I’m expecting to let the house go into foreclosure since no one there ever has any money for rent and I’m completely disgusted with the whole thing – not to mention that I’m upside down in the house and will never go back there and try to rebuild it to a ‘home’ and it’s the only way I can picture the two of them actually having to make a move and do something different…is if they get locked out.  The provider (me) has reached the point of no longer providing.  If I continue to pay, they continue to stay.  The house needs work and I can’t rent it for what the payment is on it.  So weighing all options, I believe I have come to the only conclusion that makes sense to me.  Just stop!

So my credit will take a beat.  Big deal.  Been there before and it’s no worse than never winning a poker tournament, just start over and keep trying to move up the snot covered glass hill.  Gain a little ground, slip back down and start again…such is life.

So the only vice I want to feed is my morning coffee habit and my poker habit.  I don’t have time or room to take care of anyone else’s.

Today I had a fantastic massage at a Wellness Clinic.  And made plans for future health visits, way Yummy!  And tomorrow I’m off to Vegas for the annual breast smashing done by someone with a license…mammography to those of you that don’t know.

Laters