Word Dump

It's been a while, eh? I've got a lot of topics to cover so I'll make a subheading for each new rant or ramble. And guess what? I DON'T HAVE DYSENTERY!

School's Out For Summer
I'm not teaching summer session because the full time faculty get mad cash if they teach in the off-season, so they all snatched up the open classes before we adjuncts could get a chance at teaching them. Which means I am somewhat unemployed for a while. I still work one day a week at the art studio in Nashville, helping artist Adrienne Outlaw with a community based sculpture project that involves poking millions (literally) of small nails into a nylon mesh fabric. Doesn't it just sound like a grand ole time? Uh... And then I also work cleaning houses of family members for supplemental income, which I did for seven straight hours today. And I am pooped. And then I've got a couple commissioned drawings I've been working on. And if you read my last couple posts you'll know that my house has been in total disarray for a couple weeks because we moved all of our furniture and belongings around to turn the house into a duplex so my brother can have a shag pad without me and Jason cramping his style. And in the process I've been sytematically cleaning everything and throwing out stuff we just don't need anymore, and it's a chore. The house is still a wreck, and we've got some special guests coming to visit next week (a certain Dr. Pauly and possibly a Change 100) so I want to get everything finished by then. Which is why I haven't posted lately - I just happen to be the busiest unemployed person in the universe.

Brodie's Perilous Adventure
Last week Jason and I had dinner at my aunt's house with the rest of my dad's family. My aunt has several dogs (and a new potbelly pig named Plato Pig), one of which is a 150 pound Newfoundland who is best friends with my 16 pound boy Brodie. Brodie stayed with this family when Jason and I went on our three week honeymoon (this is before we got Bonnie), and so he and Sophie the Newfie became super tight. [When Jason and I got back from our honeymoon we went to get Brodie and Sophie picked Brodie up by his harness with her mouth and moved him away from us.] Anyway, so last week we went to eat at Aunt Dee's and we brought Brodie and Bonnie so they could leisurely run along the riverbank and play with the other dogs. We rarely let them run off leash at our house because we're near a highway, so any chance for them to get exercise is good. So we're all eating dinner, and Miss Socialite Bonnie is running around our feet eating dropped food and basically hanging around the humans. Brodie went off on his own, as usual, and we didn't think anything about it. After about an hour I realized that Sophie was missing, too. We figured Sophie and Brodie were off chasing cows or doing some other dog stuff together, and that they would eventually show up. When the sun got really low in the sky I decided to go looking for Brodie. I drove away from the house down the incredibly long driveway, and I met Sophie on the way...without Brodie. So then I went riding around the nearby neighborhood with Bonnie hanging out the window as my lookout, and I called Brodie's name as I drove by each house. At one point I thought I heard him barking frantically, but I didn't see him - and I figured if it was him he'd come running to me. I drove around some more and finally circled the neighborhood again. This time, a lady started waving her arms at me and asked if I'd lost my dog - I went running up to the house and there was my Brodie on a leash! This was the house where I thought I'd heard him barking -- my poor baby boy had been able to see me through the bushes the first time I drove by, but I couldn't see him, and he HAD been barking to get my attention. And he was on a leash so he could't get away! I don't by any means think the lady was going to steal him, and she lived near a highway so I'm rather glad she nabbed him and put him on a leash so he wouldn't get run over. But still, my poor boy was detained with these strangers and couldn't get back to my aunt's house. Which is why Sophie looked so forlorn when I saw her sauntering down the driveway. This is the closest I've ever come to losing a dog, and I feel a little violated. Sure, they've run off and been away for hours a couple times in the past, but that was in the woods, away from people. This time he was in a neighborhood, and I realize just how precious those dogs really are to me. And I don't know what I'd do if someone ever nabbed them.


World Series of Poker Circuit Event, Harrah's New Orleans
Since I have time off this summer, I was able to accompany Jason to one of the tournaments he covered for Bluffmagazine.com during the past week. I was offically his assistant with the tournament coverage, even though I didn't get paid for it. I even had a media pass and everything! My job was to walk around and get chip counts, look for exciting hands, follow interesting human interest stories, and I even did quite a bit of typing for the actual website. I did almost everything Jason does, only not as efficiently or as in-depth.

We drove down to New Orleans because it's only 8 hours away and we wouldn't have been able to afford two plane tickets. We arrived in New Orleans around 10pm, so we didn't get to see much on the way into town. The interstate was horribly labeled so we got turned around in what looked to be a really bad part of town and I was slightly frightened, though over the next few days in the daylight I quickly came to realize that most of the city looked liked a ghetto, and it's because of the hurricane.

Katrina
I've said it before, I'll say it again. My name is Rachel, and I'm a germaphobe.

I was really trepidacious about going to New Orleans post-Katrina, because in the back of my mind all I could think is that the city was covered in poo water. Worse than poo water, even, when you take into account all the trash and debris and - yikes - decomposing animal and human bodies that were also in the water. And I do not in any way intend to make light of the situation after the hurricane - believe me, I've shed many tears over the loss of life and the catastrophic shootings and rapings and lack of medical care that those people endured. [Yeah, Rachel, but what did you do to help the situation? Well Terry, because I didn't have the means to physically go there and help out, I sent money. And there are still animal shelters operating out of parking lots for the abandoned pets left in the city, and I encourage all of you to help out in any way you can.]

But yeah. The city was covered in poo water. And so before we left to go there, I kept joking that I was going to wear fishing waders to keep from touching any tainted surfaces. Of course everyone kept telling me that germs die quickly, blah blah blah. But you know what? Even if the poo water germs are dead, there's still a lot of germs in that city. The streets smelled like vomit and urine (which I'm told they did even before the hurricane) and there was random garbage everywhere. Some of it is household garbage, but the city is absolutely covered with hurricane junk. It's absolutely unbelievable. Germs aside, I can't fathom what it must have been like right after the storm, because it's almost a year later and there are still piles of rubble and overturned cars and huge chunks of asphalt dangling from trees. Underneath the interstate overpasses in the downtown area is a depository of destroyed cars - all of them covered in dried mud and smashed to bits.

There are two types of damage caused by Katrina -- there's the hurricane winds with sea water surges, and then there's the flooding cause by Lake Pontchartrain's levees breaking. We didn't even see the damage caused by the lake flood, we just saw the wind damage. And Jesus, it is devastating. We were in the affluent areas the whole time, including the French Quarter, and still there are many street signs and stop signs missing entirely. It's quite hard navigating the city streets when you have no idea what street you're on and when no one stops at intersections. Those are simple things you'd think would have been fixed by now, but I guess that just shows that the other areas of the city are the priority right now, and I can't even begin to imagine what those areas are like. On the way out of town we could see some of the worse-hit areas of the city from the interstate, and Jason and I both cried. The saddest thing I saw was the Superdome, it's roof still torn to bits with some loney twisted metal rods sticking out of the top (maybe once used for satellite dishes or something?) They should level that whole place and make a new one, just on sheer principle. Thousands of people were trapped in there in total darkness, many of whom died from their wounds, the survivors ruined by chilling memories of carnage they will take with them for the rest of their lives. And the airport - it was a makeshift morgue for god's sake - these places will never be the same, and I think it's disrespectful to the citizens of New Orleans to open these places back up as if nothing had ever happened there. God. I want to cry.

Harrah's
This was the only place I visited that was in perfect condition. And I have a hunch it's because it's the only place that had enough money to restore itself it it's original condition. There's a really cool bar called Masquerade where many a poker player and I had drinks. But it's got these creepy dance platforms that are usurped each night by Britney Spears wannabe dancers - ugh.

Pahss The Junyah Mints!
I got to see the 2005 World Series of Poker Champ Joe "Pass the Sugar!" Hachem live! And you know what he had on the table while he played? A big box of Junior Mints. How sweet is that? Most players have cigarettes or something, and he's got a classic but not-too-common box of candies. He's a super nice guy, and he bought me the best cosmopolitan I've ever had! And no, he wasn't trying to get in my pants. Errr, at least I don't think he was, cause he bought a round of drinks for everyone standing in the circle of people around him at the Masquerade bar.

No Limit Rachel
I played my first no limit cash game while at Harrah's New Orleans. I'd played tournaments and limit cash games, but never had the balls to play no limit with cash. But you know, after being on media row at the circuit tournament all day for four days, I really got the itch to play some poker. So Jason bought me into a cash game, and I had the distinct honor and pleasure of playing at the same table with none other than CJ! [CJ sweated me at the ladies' event at The Grand in Tunica, and he's just a really great person. And he's a pretty good poker coach, too!] He gave me some strategy tips and down I sat, ready to whip some arse. I bought in for $100 and was up $50 fairly quickly, then a
****WARNING****WARNING****BAD BEAT STORY****WARNING****WARNING****
jittery club kid donkey sat down on my left. I had AK, the flop came K-blank-blank rainbow. I pushed all in. Club kid called me. The turn was an A to give me two pair, and the river was a Q, which gave the club kid a straight, with his JT. He called my all-in on the flop with nothing. And then he had the nerve to tell me "I had the flush draw and the straight draw." Well, yeah, maybe after the turn, but not on the flop. I wanted to put my fingers through the 1/2 inch holes in his earlobes and yank real hard. All the while I watched CJ's stack take some big hits, but I soon realized he had a strategy. He was chatting up the pretty lady sitting between us, and I was thinking, "CJ's getting his swerve on!" Then a little while later he took all of the pretty lady's stack. Right on, that's a real poker player!

Allie and Gavin
Jason has befriended two incredibly nice but incredibly wacky poker dudes. Gavin Smith, a crazy Canadian who's been awarded this year's poker player of the year for one organization (I don't remember which) and who's starting to show up more and more in televised events, and Allie Prescott, a 24 year old young'un from Memphis. We hung out with these guys quite a bit while in New Orleans, and it just so happens that they both made it to the final televized table! (It should be on ESPN later this summer.) These guys like to throw back the drinks, and one night they had imbibed maybe a little too much because they made the most outrageous prop bet anyone had ever heard of. They made a bet that if Gavin won the tournament, Allie would have to pay Gavin $700,000 over the course of the next ten years. And if Allie won the tournament, Gavin would have to pay Allie $1,000,000. Crazy shit, huh? It got really intense when Gavin went heads up against Peter Feldman, a heads-up match that lasted more hands that all of the final table hands combined. The event ended at about 3am as Peter doubled up through some pretty lucky hands just enough to edge Gavin out of the first place spot. In the end, neither Allie or Gavin will owe from this prop bet, but the TV crew seemed to make a big deal of it so I bet it will be the talk of the tournament once it airs.

N'awlins Food
All I wanted from my New Orleans trip was some good Creole fare... Didn't happen. We were in the casino most of the time, and all they had in there was burgers and deli sandwiches and an Asian place. And Jason and I ended up going out with large groups of people for dinner most nights, and someone else always made the decision of where we'd go. We did, however, have some pretty tasty meals. The best meal of the trip was at Emeril's place called "Nola." BAM! I never thought I'd eat at one of this dude's places, but it was really incredibly nice. All of the actions of the waitstaff were choreographed, so when our food was ready they had twelve people come out each holding a plate and they got behind those of us seated at the table and they placed our meals in front of us at exactly the same time. There was quite a bit of spectacle to the whole thing. And the best part was that they served us Evian water the whole time. Seriously -- they had these huge chilled glass bottles of Evian - I bet they go through 200 of them a night. This really comforted me because I was afraid of getting some nasty funk from drinking the local water. Of course, for all I know they use the same 10 Evian bottles and fill them up from the tap in the kitchen. I'd be none the wiser. The only bad thing about the meal was that the waiter brought my steak out medium well instead of medium rare, and I don't like to send stuff back to the kitchen so I ate it anyway. (I know what happens to food that gets sent back. Even though I bet they wouldn't drop it on the floor at Emeril's place, I didn't want to take a chance - or be a nuisance.)

I did have a beignet for Lydia at Cafe du Monde. But ya know, I wasn't overly thrilled with it. It was very good, don't get me wrong. But the way people talked about them I thought it was going to be really special. It turned out to be a cross between a doughnut and a funnel cake. And those two foods are two of my favorites, but I was expecting a new flavor or texture I'd never had before - and it was rather ordinary. But our waitress who didn't speak english seemed perturbed with us for ordering water, so maybe she gave us old stale ones or something.

For our last meal on the way out of town Allie suggested a local place. He went to Tulane so he was familiar with the city and ended up being our bar-hopping tour guide (for Windjammers, Hand Grenades, Flaming Dr. Peppers and Hurricanes.) We drove all the way across town for - finally - some cajun food, and it turned out the restaurant was closed. As are many business post-Katrina it's closed for good. And we were in a hurry, so the only place to eat at was yet another burger joint. I ordered the only cajun-esque thing on the menu, which was a crawfish bisque. It was yummy, but it wasn't the Jambalaya I was hoping to get. For now, Zatarain's will be my ticket to Cajun cookin'.

This One's For The Ladies
Here are the top three hottest poker pros with whom I made eye contact:

3. Erick Lindgren. He's hot in a young Dennis Quaid sort of way. And his jeans are baggy, and I like baggy jeans.

2. Phil Ivey. Yeah, he's really hot. He has great skin and really nice teeth, which you can see on the rare occasion that he smiles really big.

...and the hottest pro I saw in N'awlins:

1. Joe "Pass the Sugar" Hachem. Wow, not only is he hot, but he's genuinely nice. And he's short, (what can I say, I'm 4'10 1/4"!) and he has really great fashion sense. So the next time any of you nitwits get invited to the Playboy Mansion and you're running around like a bunch of teenage girls wondering what to wear, do a Google Image search of Mr. Hachem. He's stylin' and profilin'.

Yippity Skippity YEEHAAAW
Guess what Guess what Guess what???
There's a very good chance that I will get to play in the Ladies' No Limit event at the World Series in Vegas this summer! And guess what? It starts the day after the blogger tournament. So guess what? If I were to make the money, not only Jason but also my dad and stepmom and Lydia and maybe even some of my blogger friends might be there. Wouldn't that kick ass? To have a cheering section?