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I fool them all again!

Well, the results are in, and to quote the California State Bar website:

"The name above appears on the pass list for the July 2004 California Bar Examination."

Wild.

So now the job hunt begins again, and now I can apply for the jobs I really want, the ones that require Bar membership before they'll even look at your resume. I'll let you know how that goes.

By the way, if you want to learn a little more about this horrific process, read this press release from the Bar. After I read it, I got more than a little sick to my stomach.

B-Day is upon us!

So, the looming date on my calendar is finally here: tonight at 6 PM PST, the California State Bar releases the pass list for the July exam. Whether my name appears on that list or not decides the direction my life takes for the foreseeable future. I'll post again soon with the results, or you can look them up for yourself starting Monday when the results are posted to the public.

Pray for Mojo.

Celebrity Poker Showdown Conspiracy Theory

Maybe it's just me, but did anybody else think it was really weird that Dave Navarro, last season's runner-up and seemingly good poker player, this week played what can at best be called horrendous poker, making horrible decisions and acting as if he'd never seen a deck of cards before? My theory: Dave threw the game. Why? Because I don't think he was interested in playing at a championship table where (at least) two-fifths of the players had slept with his wife.

Facts supporting my conspiracy theory:

• Last season, Dave won his opening round, and then narrowly lost the championship to Seth Meyers from SNL. Dave played outstanding poker in both games, showing a real knack for playing good hands and bad hands with equal skill.
• This week, Dave played won the first two hands by playing in that same aggressive style. However, for the rest of his game, he then played just awful hands, and more importantly, played them in such a way that he was assured to lose: he consistently called raises, but never in an aggressive manner that could have scared the other player out of the pot. Additionally, he did so with cards that clearly were not winners.
• When Dave was the first one out and on his way to the Loser's Lounge, he was shown calling his wife Carmen Electra and telling her, "I lost, and your ex-husband won."
• Regular viewers of the show know that Dennis Rodman, married famously in a drunken Vegas wedding to Carmen Electra, won his round, and would be playing in the championship.
  
• Regular viewers have also figured out that an entire season is usually taped in a couple days, and so it is very possible that Dave watched Dennis play and win, and knew that if he won, he would be sitting at the same table as Dennis within hours.

So there you have it: my case for why Dave took a dive. If I'm right, I am disappointed, but I understand; tough to bluff a guy who is going to look at you across the table with that knowing look in his eye (emphasis on the Biblical definition of "know"). Especially when that guy's nickname is "The Worm."

I think he could have won the whole thing, but now, my money is on Doogie. You?

My civic duty

If I heard Chris Matthews correctly last night, blogging is mainly supposed to talk about politics. I looked back at my entries, and I mostly talk about poker and puppets.

So today I'll try to make more of a political statement with some "talking points," as the kids today are calling them. Here goes:

• I vastly enjoy maps over listening to four people argue, and this is my favorite one. I especially like that you can click over to how it looked in 2000; for all the talk about how much has changed over the past four years, it looks surprisingly similar.
• I almost gave myself an epileptic fit last night as I flipped from channel to channel, looking for said maps and some sort of unity about the electoral college count. I found Dan Rather's forced folksiness the most annoying, followed closely by Brit Hume's smugness. I can't point to any one channel's coverage that I especially liked (I don't count watching Jon Stewart since that is a comedy show, Tucker!), but I probably watched CNN the most, since I did like their big board-o-numbers (mmm...shiny graphics!).
  
• I'm not pleased that Dubya won, but I am glad that somebody actually won this time, and won solidly enough that it doesn't look like there will be weeks of recounts, lawsuits, and explanations of pregnant chads.
• I don't live in Kentucky anymore, but what I have heard and what I saw when I recently visited leads me to believe that Jim Bunning is an embarrassment and a good example of how divided our country is right now. I want to believe that people voted this guy in because they voted for the Republican party, or against the Democrats and/or Mongiardo, but not actually for this guy. I really want to believe that.
• Dear Democratic Party: four years ago, Ralph Nader didn't steal votes from you; you lost votes and voters because instead of working for your base and representing the party's values, you took the liberal vote for granted, just assumed they'd vote against Bush = for you, and worked hard to move to the middle and swing undecided and moderate Republican voters. You lost that election. Period. Now, I bring this up because in the coming days, months, and years, you can play the blame-game again if you want to, OR you can start planting the seeds for a real groundswell in 2008. If you want my help, you need to ask, not just assume. I'm willing to help if you're willing to work with me. Sincerely, One of Many Prodigal Sons.
  

I hope Chris thinks that's enough. Now, back to poker and puppets!

No porch lights, maybe?

We didn't have any trick-or-treaters last night. Granted, we had no candy, so it was for the best, but still...shouldn't there have been a couple? We figure the local kids either drove south to the Burbs for some hot candy action, or did the whole mall/zoo thing that has become increasingly popular. This pushed us into a reminiscing fit last night about our shared memories of suburban Halloweens: how the streets were crawling with kids and parents, the fear of razor blades in apples, and houses that didn't decorate and give out Zagnut bars were the rare exception, not the rule. We also discussed the "that one house" rule: apparently all suburban kids had that one house in the neighborhood that went way too far in the Halloween spirit (for me, it was the house that dug graves in the front yard, complete with people jumping out of them...graves!)

So relying on said suburban training, we turned off all the lights (we don't have a porch, so we figured complete darkness would be our version of the universal signal that this house is not participating in your fun, little Spiderman) and went out for Malaysian food (mmm...jicama). Seemed like the thing to do.

Back to earth

Played poker again this weekend, and my rush has left the building. Got busted out on a desperation all-in; had Ace, Queen of clubs, figured that was about as good as it would get, and got called by a King(d), 4(s). Somehow, he made the King-high straight, and I was out. Yuck.

Still, not a bad night considering the cards I was getting. After I got dealt 8,5 off suit for the eleventh time in one night, I was reminded how much editing goes into televised poker to make what is probably a seven-hour marathon seem like a tight two-hour show (including Dave Foley's witticisms).

Made me feel a little better.

America...F**k Yeah!

If you are easily offended by stereotypes, un-PC humor, or puppets alternately killing each other, having hot sex, or vomiting uncontrollably, then Team America: World Police is probably not the movie for you. But if you are a little more open minded and can turn off that little voice in your head (the one that is going to constantly remind you that what you are watching is just wrong) for an hour and forty five minutes, I highly recommend this movie. We saw it last night, and my jaw ached afterwards from smiling and laughing the entire time. A fantastic send-up of Hollywood celebrities, big-budget action films, and global politics; what's not to love?

BTW, my wife even came along for the ride. She wasn't thrilled, but she admitted that the fierce Korean panthers were pretty funny!

Little help?

This screen capture (which neocons would probably claim is doctored) from the first debate seems to show what a lot of us have suspected for a while: Dubya is clearly a puppet, and Karl Rove has really long arms.

Who is seriously voting for this guy?

Maybe I AM Phil Gordon!

This past weekend saw a weird spike in our poker game; we played both Thursday night after the first Presidential debate (btw, I have to believe that only people who made up their minds about voting for Dubya a LONG time ago could have watched his stuttering, confused performance and not been embarrassed...) and again Saturday night, making for a very short turnaround time between games.

And I think that short turnaround hurt our game. Normally, our weekly game, although set around the chips and cards, is also about getting together, sharing stories from the past week, joking around, etc. However, the lack of time between games meant nothing new to share, and I found myself much more focused on winning than on just having fun (my normal M.O., regardless of all my other talk of money and winning).

Hopefully, if we take a week off and have something to talk about this next time, things will go better. And hopefully, I'll continue to stop making stupid mistakes and WIN, WIN, WIN! :)

I have the conch...for now

We had an out-of-town visitor recently, and her presence in our small house made me painfully aware of just how much television I sit in front of. Not "watch," necessarily, but just have on all the time. I need to get more books.

Anyway, when I am honest with myself, I have the television on a lot, but I actually don't watch that many shows regularly. I am trying to keep that number down, since investing in new shows requires dedicating more of my brain to names, subplots, etc. I just shouldn't have the time for that.

So anyway, my new show this season is probably going to be Lost, which has the best chances for keeping me interested. I love "stranded" stories, esp. the elements of how you would survive in a strange situation with very few tools, resources, etc. I am also a sucker for X-Files-esque monsters and mysteries, both of which are apparently going to be staples on this show. And finally, I really love the whole Lord of the Flies, create a new society, what happens when the cops are gone and there are no legal consequences to your actions, sort of story.

For now, I'm in.

I'm no Phil Gordon, part two

Okay, so after several weeks of hot poker action, and being the only one in our group not to win some money yet, I finally took home a pot at our weekend poker game! What a relief! I was really getting tired of being the guy at the table who knows all the rules, all the lingo, reads the books, watches the shows...and continuously goes home broke. Finally, the cards came my way, and I feel much better about how I played.

My biggest mistake of the night was actually against my wife. Here's the line:

I'm holding a Jack and 4, both hearts. Flop comes: Ace (hearts), Queen (clubs), and 9 (hearts). So two cards to go on the board, and a pretty good chance at the flush, right?

But I bet wrong. I should have gone after the pot more aggressively and scared everyone else out, but I limped in, slow playing it to see if I would indeed make the flush. What happened?

Turn: 9 of spades. River: Queen of hearts.

In other words, I make my flush on Fifth Street, but I also waited too long, and now anybody out there with a Queen or 9 has the full house, and I'm screwed.

And sure enough, my wife had the Queen. Probably should have gotten out, but I was pretty pot committed by then, and figured I should at least see if anyone made the boat, so I stuck around. She did. Grrrr.

Of course, she's been putting in our entry fee for the past four weeks, so since I've been playing with her money, I guess I shouldn't complain. Also, my take of the pot was enough to pay her back for the past four weeks, so I really can't complain.

I wish I had made enough to also pay off the parking ticket I got last week, the one she will now have to pay, but maybe I'll get lucky again this weekend. We'll see.

Fun with high winds

Just dropped off our good friend at the airport; she visited for the last week, and now is headed home...and straight into Hurricane Ivan. Yikes.

When we lived in Alabama in '95, we lived through Opal, and I will never forget it: amazing winds and rainfall, a solid week afterwards without electricity or phones, and the realization that I would NEVER have made it as an early pioneer without air conditioning. God bless you, Mr. Carrier!

What has been interesting about watching all of the Ivan coverage on television was realizing that I never saw any of the Opal coverage due to the power outage. I wonder if the Weather Channel guys, in their cool black t-shirts and baseball caps, were set up just around the corner from our house, and we never knew it?

And by the way, do we need an intrepid reporter to lean into the wind, get his hat blown off, and struggle to talk into the microphone every time a hurricane comes? You can't tell me some of that isn't added dramatics.

It's hard to stand in one place. We get it, already.

BETTER than flying cars!

The Jetsons promised us flying cars by now, but I think this is even better:

Netflix and TiVo are rumored to be considering teaming up and allowing members to download movies from the Netflix library directly to their TiVo box. What a world.

This, of course, means that the paltry amount of cardio I get walking to the mailbox to mail my red envelopes back will have to be replaced somehow. I must resolve to walk to the refrigerator more often, but come back with less. Balance will be achieved.

Somebody set up us the bomb

So in the spirit of my last post RE: my love of reruns, I thought I'd link to one of my favorite internet-phenomenon-from-several-years-ago and breathe a little new life into it. Come on; if VH1 can do I Love the 90s, surely I can get away this?

Seriously, this time we mean it: All your base are belong to us.

Deal with it.

Dreaming of reruns

I think I really want TiVo.

I worry that, right now, I watch too much television. And by "watch," I mean "stare at that box till something else better comes on, then stare some more." I'm often just flipping around till I find something even moderately watchable (read: not good in and of itself, just better than the other dreck). Interesting fact: especially in the early afternoon, that is usually something on the E! network. Surprised me, too.

So here's my theory: with TiVo, I may actually watch less television, since I would know that I could turn it on, go immediately to something I want to watch, do so commercial-free, and then move on with my life. Granted, what I usually want to watch are reruns of Seinfeld or The Simpsons (IMHO, both still better than any other scripted show on TV), but that's my right as an American, yes?

As soon as I get a job and can afford TiVo, I'll test my theory and publish my results for you. The New England Journal of Medicine awaits.

Should I feel dirty watching the Olympics?

Misty May, member of the US Olympic Women's Beach Volleyball team, has a mole on her left inner thigh.

I really shouldn't know this. Her doctor should know this.

But I know this because when NBC flew to Greece for its Olympic coverage, they forgot to pack their shame. Their coverage of Women's Beach Volleyball has been the most overtly sexual thing on my television ever since my wife made me call the cable company and tell them we were getting Cinemax for free.

And just in case NBC's slow-motion replays of the women diving into the sand from every angle aren't enough for you, there's more. In between games, the venue actually has female cheerleaders in even more revealing swimwear (not easy to do) dance suggestively while the atheletes take a break.

Maybe I should be outraged, maybe it's a celebration of women taking control of their sexuality, or maybe it's just sex-marketing business as usual. Let me know what you decide. In the meantime, I'll probably be making disapproving comments...but probably not changing the channel.

And Misty? I'd get that looked at, if I were you.

I'm no Phil Gordon

Damn...I watch Celebrity Poker Showdown religiously, have seen Chris Moneymaker win the 2003 WSOP several times on ESPN, and have even read Positively Fifth Street by James McManus. So shouldn't I be better at poker by now?

Answer with a question: how do you get to Carnegie Hall? Practice, practice, practice.

Actually sat down and played for the first time this weekend, and was the first one out. Had a blast doing it, was basically losing my wife's money since I'm still unemployed, and picked up a few things about my own game and the playing habits of the others at the table.

I'll do better next time. But for now, off to practice. Wish me luck.

My religious/cancerous experience

There are film snobs, wine snobs, music snobs, and so on. I am not a cigar snob per se, but I can talk the talk, and I finally got the perfectly legal chance in Aruba to enjoy the producto de Habana that I have read so much about: a sweet, sweet limitado edicion Cohiba cigar. And afterwards, I have never come closer to considering violating the trade embargoes of the United States.

For those of you who are not cigar lovers, skip this paragraph. For those of you who are, I have to say it was the most perfect cigar I have ever enjoyed. Beautiful brown maduro wrapper, springy to the touch, nice torpedo tapered-head (not a true torpedo, but close), and I would guess about a 40 ring. After lighting, it kept a uniform coal the whole way through, and burned evenly and slowly. The draw was phenomenal, and the aftertaste was like slightly overcooked popcorn, never bitter, even towards the end. Being the first cigar I have smoked in years, coupled with its flawless flavor, I was truly blown away.

While enjoying it, I thought of my old friend Russ from Alabama; we taught together for a year, and after school on Fridays would sometimes go to a local smoke shop, walk into the humidor, and pick out something new. Then we'd head to a bar around the corner, fire up the cedar, and enjoy a good smoke, a good beer, and some good company. Good times.

I wonder whatever happened to Russ; I hope he's doing well wherever he is, but for a few minutes last week, he was in Aruba with me enjoying a fantastic Cohiba and laughing about the students.

I still can't blow smoke rings.

SPF 85?

So explain this to me:

We spent four days in the Caribbean. Every day, without fail, I applied a sunscreen lotion with an SPF of 45 (for reference, mayonnaise is about a 40), was NEVER in the direct sun for more than 10 minutes, and I still got a nice, pink sunburn.

Why does God want me to burn?