..or, Don't start anything you can't finish.

Last evenings poker started well, when I took down a $16, 18 seater SNG on Pokerstars. I played another, $6, this time with Juice, who got very unlucky to run his AQ into tens. I came second there, and it all started to go very horrible for a bit - I played another $16 and I crashed out when a blatant stealer ran his 83 into my Q9 sooted - I'm sure I don't need to tell you that he hit his 8 on the flop - I opened another and went out in the first hand when I reraised all in a fishy early position raiser with KK - he had QJ (why do I ever bother with Kings, eh?) and board came JXXQQ. I couldn't stop myself pointing out that I didn't think, ahem, that it was a terribly wise call. And you know what he said? He said it was MY FAULT for pushing all in. Why do people play such shitty hands with such.. vigour? Why do they offer such ridiculous reasoning for their suckouts? Anyway, I am sorry to say this put me on a little bit of a tilt. What else could I do but join a $50 nl cash table (by the way, I am not really rolled for that risk at Pokerstars - just to put in context how awful my decision making was at the point) and I was doing well.. until my flopped 2 pr of AT fell to 9T's rivered full house. I have to confess, morale was not at a great high at that point. Its about 2am. Time to go to bed, no?
No!
I'm feeling pretty hacked off at this point. There is something about tilt for me, however, that means whatever else, I do not want to stop playing until the pain is much much worse usually. I wanted to play poker - wanted to push a few chips around but I was at least self aware enough to know that I ought to do it cheaply. So I joined a $4 180 seater - and 4 hours , a straight flush, an unbelievable run of high pocket pairs and flopped sets later, reader, I am happy to tell you I won it. And now its 7.30 am and, God, I have a hyperactive child running around.
He has learnt a new trick. When I ask why he has carried out a particular act of naughtiness he turns down his mouth, looks up at me through beautiful eyes and says.. 'Because..Because, Mummy, I wanted a cuddle'. And then I am a marshmallow.
Who's for a long game of Sleeping Lions?

Well, Christmas went well. It was lovely. Family, friends, present and food were all.. great. Maybe this is a bad thing to say - but fuck me, I'm glad its all over now. Am I the only one that feels this way? Shurely not. Given how lucky am I, I think I ought to be more grateful at Christmas time so despite my rather melancholic state of mind - this will not be a 'bah humbug' post!

Despite having the most laughable run of form for a few hours yesterday (really, you name it: AAvA5, KKvAQ, KKvA8, AQvA5, QQv99 AKvKJ ...on and on) its actually not been a bad few days at the tables. No big scores, but good poker. I played in a $10 Knockout tourney on Full Tilt with Acornman last night and scored 18/567. I can't get over how fishy these tourneys are sometimes. Might have done even better if my run into Ak with Aj hadn't depleted my stack to such a degree I had to push with the mighty K4o. Might have done even better if my K4 hadn't been called by J5 who of course hit her 5 on the river. I haven't been on the best of runs recently so even though I never profited much (might have won $30 for three odd hours work), it was some comfort to me to play well and go so deep.
I've also been playing a lot of turbo sngs lately. They've not been a game I feel traditionally very comfortable with but I think that might have been to a degree because I did not understand the true nature of the beast. I think that essentially, if you can bear not to play poker and just run as a push or fold machine, you can make profit at these games (should the cards fall your way, of course). I'm not sure I like them because of the nature of them - they require a very mechanical style of play in my view and there's little point in much post-flop strategy but I do like winning. And I'm not doing too badly at that in these.

So theres not much else to tell you really. Just have a quiet few days planned in front of the telly and then time to look for a job. No messing around this time, just the first phone monkey job I can set my little hands on. And then hopefully, another trip to Glasgow. And then, jesus, 2008. Don't ask me how we got here.
I hope the hangovers aren't too bad, folks!

{}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_YMgJXrN8nh0/R2rPhrOWseI/AAAAAAAAAEU/3uFDw6LWAz8/s1600-h/christmas+tree.jpg">Alright, so its not anything thats going to put Trafalgar Square's effort in any shade (especially not my wonky star). But at least its done. As are, homemade mince pies, half my presents wrapped and my house cleaned. I'm having my first glass of the wine of the week with my feet up in front of the telly, and I'm feeling quite virtuous about what I've achieved today. Given I'm about to give up a whole weekend to the pursuit of non-virtue, thats good news.

All I need are some willing elves to help my finish wrapping my presents and I'll be good to go.

With my trip to Glasgow and a house full for Christmas, I'm not sure how much poker I'll be playing, or how much blogging I'll have time to do before Christmas. So, reader,
Happy Christmas. I hope you get your heart's desire under the Christmas tree this year.

This makes me laugh. I'm not usually all that impressed by the efforts of local commercial radiomorning DJ's, but this makes even an old sourpuss like me laugh. Maybe you won't get if you're not from Bristol,I hope you do.




And yes, Juice, this is what a Bristolian accent sounds like

[22:02] sick as hell: I have to get my eye medicine..
[22:07] Juice: does conjunctivitis hurt?
[22:08] sick as hell: it does if i touch my eyes
[22:08] sick as hell: but its just itchy and ugly otherwise
[22:08] sick as hell: i don't want my eyes to be ugly
[22:08] Juice: shades are always cool
[22:08] Juice: or my favorite the brown paper bag
[22:08] sick as hell: lol,
[22:08] Juice: with drawn on eyes
[22:08] sick as hell: lolol
[22:09] sick as hell: i might try that
[22:10] sick as hell: Its not likely to be sunny enough in Glasgow to pull off shades, is it?
[22:11] Juice: the man makes it sunny enough for shades
[22:11] sick as hell:

I've been thinking about blogging a lot recently: The right to privacy, the right to uncensored speech, and of course, the most important navel gazing question of all: Why? Now, we all have our answers to the why question, I suppose. Some people blog for a sense of community (or, as it has been put, to be part of a 'scene') some people blog for attention, some people blog because.. well, since men and women have been writing, many have been writing their thoughts down somewhere. Some, I've noticed, seem to view blogging as a bit of a competition, Some see the point of blogging to be getting feedback in the comments box. Some people just have things they want to say. Things that just don't seem to them to be said anywhere else. I don't know where i fit in those reasons. I know I write for myself and admittedly specifically for bloggers that I consider friends. I don't know why though, given I feel I only really write for my own pleasure I don't always write about what I want to write. Ahhh maybe one day. Whatever I say though, I know that blogging, like poker, rarely comes without Ego.

It seems that some of these issues have been in the mind of the media lately. Last week, I watched an interesting program on channel 4. The Sex Blog Girls. A major focus of this show was a blog that I've been enjoying for a long time, Girl with a one-track mind. I think this blog has been going since 2004 and is pretty simply a woman discussing (sorry if I oversimplify here) her sexual exploits and what she thought about them - and what she thought about sex, and men. Now, its never been a particularly titillating read for me but I, and hundreds of thousands of people read it. All the time. And she got a book deal. Its a cracking book, I'd recommend it. Worryingly, the tabloid press at the time thought it was necessary to track her down and publish her name and her parents name and address, because why, I don't know.
While I languished in my bed today, I had the great fortune to catch a very interesting show on Radio 4 called: New Kids on The Blog. Cute name, huh?(You can find it under Radio 4's website under Listen Again, for a little while, should you so desire). It was mostly about political bloggers in the US and how they're making a difference to the political and media landscape. Apparently there are 112 million blogs today worldwide (not all of them active, one would think). Some of them get no readers at all. Some get 10,000. 10,000 readers a day. I wonder how many of the very influential UK poker bloggers can make that claim?

I think I'm turning slightly nocturnal. I know that I'm ill, but I'm not sure that staying up late at night and sleeping all of the day whilst my little one is at nursery is all that good for me. But there you go. Hopefully over the weekend, I'll be able to turn that around a bit. But I'll not make it a big priority.

Ugh, please, no more drama. Look, I have the flu, I'm tired. My decorations aren't up and my presents aren't wrapped. I'm not looking for sympathy (not having man-flu, I wouldn't expect any), but please, leave me alone. I just want to blog about how awful online poker can be, and bitch about whats on the telly. I don't have the energy to argue with anyone, anymore. If you can't take the odd dig in a chat box from a slightly pissed off 20 something girl, I don't know what to suggest. Turn my chat off?
If you must complain, You could always email me, care of Rosie dot toes at hotmail co uk and bitch at me there. Letters marked 'complaint' will receive immediate and confidential attention. Unless you're a whole forum writing at once and then you, well, I don't know, I'll send a delegate.

I think I have mice. I don't mind mice, really, but from a health and safety point of view, probably not the best idea. Every year we get them and every year they rattle around in this house with me. My house is old, the floors are polished floorboards. Its 'well ventilated'. The sash windows are original Victorian, and they rattle.The rat catcher (waste disposal? mouse killer? rentokil?) tell me they can enter your house in the space of a pen lid top. He then looks around and shakes his head. And every year, bless em, we get them poisoned. The way it works, apparently, is to slowly coagulate their blood with these pellets. They take the pellets home to feed their babies and then, as they all start to feel unwell, they get into their nests and drift off. Except its more more than likely more painful than that for them, but its very clean. When I see mouse I look at it and feel sorry for the inevitable action, (and frankly, the 40 quid), but the rat catcher - nice but rather strange man from the council, remind me that for every one I see there are probably 20 scurrying below the floorboards. And over my kitchen surfaces, and through my baby's room. Ok. Ok ,then I think. And we set down the traps. But I'll wait until I actually see one. I'd like to get some cats in, to at least give them a sporting chance. But i think the rat catcher's way is probably best.

Poker is up and down. When I am not suffering ridiculous beats (ak v93 all in preflop, that sort of thing), I'm not doing too badly. I seem to be churning a small profit again, but I put that down to luck, really, rather than my good judgment.

Lots of 'Oh my fucking God' moments today on the non poker front. Christmas shopping a week before Christmas with a temperature, sore throat and a headache was never going to be the best idea, but I never did realise quite how bad. Six hours of Oh My Fucking God Moments. 'Oh my fucking God, I've been to eleven big retailers and they've all run out of Christmas Tree Lights' 'Oh my fucking God, its so cold out here' 'Oh my fucking God, I've been sat in this traffic the length of time it takes me to fly to Glasgow' 'Oh my fucking God, some fat chav in Marks and Spencer is having a go at me because I accidentally knocked a pair of socks off a rail and my hands were too full to pick them up' 'Oh my fucking God, what do you mean, you've run out of dinosaurs?' and my least favourite of the day was watching some middle aged man bully and shout a at 16 year old cafe assistant because it was minutes to twelve and she wasn't allowed to take a lunch order until 12, until she had tears her in her eyes. 'Oh my fucking God, Is your life so unhappy you have to berate some young woman until she can't deal with you any more? Over five minutes?'. I never said any of these things out loud of course, because sometimes, its just not worth your while opening even opening your mouth. Sympathetic smiles between the understanding, generally have to suffice.

Oh my fucking God, its quarter to five in the morning.

Its funny, isn't it, how what is NOT said, is often more telling than what IS said.
I don't have comment moderation on this blog - I'm never going to edit what anyone has to say to me, I'm not going to take anyone's words out of context - or mislead the reader as to what has, or has not been said. (but fuk it, lets change that now)You may not want me to be your best buddy - thats fine - I have enough friends, thank you. But at least you know when you come here you can say what you like. I think someone accused me of being a bloke pretending to be a woman once. Care I? I care not.

I wasn't feeling particularly good during the bloggerment last night - wary of another suckout and full of flu I sat at the table to play the best poker I could (sorry, if any of you think thats a crime, btw, to actually take a game seriously) and then, something I had completely forgotten about. A run in with HULLJIMI. Now, normally, frankly, inane banter in the chatbox goes over my head but sometimes, I think, 'shut up'.
Now I know that i have no right to tell anyone to stop chatting in the bloggerment just because I'm having trouble concentrating. Its not the fault of the inane driveller, thats for sure. But when I suggested he might have done better for less chat, he took this as 'snide' (lol) and set about in his words.
Being the bigger man, and being a fully grown up adult, I did the thing that all grown ups would do. I walked away and left her to it I set about her and tried to make her look a bit of a tit! I think it worked but I’m not proud of myself. Much.
Yeah, fully into bigger man territory there!
Now, in my perception, thats not really what happened. So THIS is what I wrote in response to his post..
Lol@you
You made me look like a bit of a tit? yeah, there you were laughing at your own jokes, discussing weeing in the bath like my 3 year old.. yeah, really clever chat.
I don’t know if this is because you are generally not very bright - I’m not sure, but making comments about the way people play their hands, especially while you are not in them, calling people ‘ miserable sod’ when they don;t laugh like trains at your ‘witty banter’ does not make you a comedy genius. but if practising your your stand up in an empty room, hands down your shorts really makes you happy, good to get the practice in at every opportunity eh?
Spot the difference?
He goes onto send me a pretty slaggy email, here: (by publishing this, I tearfully face the truth that my reader hates me. At least I'm honest. Add your name to the bottom of the email, if you like. See If I care)

Thanks for reading my blog.(James, how could I not.. its fascinating)
I'd like to answer a few of your points....
"generally not very bright" - how's 4 a-levels at A grade, a degree and my
own company grab you? At 29? Not bad for someone not generally very bright.(you're right, thats not bad at all for someone not very bright)
Equally - I've not made any vicious comments about you? Why the need for the
personal attack? (Why the need to say that you feel you made me look 'like a bit of a tit because I didn't kiss your ass?)
I certainly didn't comment on any hands you were in - the tourney is ran as
a bit of fun - and most people see it that way.
I also find it a bit striking that whilst chatting on RTR and MSN, that
virtually none of the community can tolerate your abruptness and that
frankly, you're not well liked. (as I've addressed above, RTR and the blogging communtiy are so far away from my life, sunshine, that I hadn't given it a minute's thought what those all powerful community of the british blog scene think)
 As for a comedy genius, I leave that to you.(thanks)
Most of the UK poker community appear to be laughing at you.(see the above)
Anyway, I'm off to put my hands back down my pants. It's awfully hard typing (well, you said it)
with one hand and my face....
And then I said..
Nicely edited , I will give you that. Lovely that you don't even give my full response to your post, but your blog, edit away. - as for your rather pleasant email ths eveing, James, I'm rather suprised you didn't post all of that as well.
As for my 'upsetting more than my fair share of raise the riverers' gosh! What will I do?! Frankly, James, I don't care what you think of me, and I don't care what your little pals think either. I don't mind.
But get over yourself won't you.
But he never showed you that either.
Look, I don't care if you like him, like me, read my blog, don't, don't read mine. Really, if you dislike me, don't read my blog, or read it, or do what you want. I don't care
What I do care about is being misrepresented by someone who behaves like a 12 year old, and doesn't even want to publish a discussion in is entirety. For Hull Jimi to suggest that I do any of this for some weird sense of approval from any blogger that I don't consider a personal friend - is well, hes wrong.
To think i had some bad beat stories to tell you, too!

Well, I thought I had got away with it. I spend a week at home with a toddler with serious gastric flu and I, smugly, symptomless, think that I have, for once in the past three years got off with a free pass.
I don't have stomach flu, certainly, but when I awoke this morning to the sound of my darling boy calling me from his bed and realised I was lying in a pool of my own sweat unable to move my limbs without effort, I knew I was in trouble. Breathe, swallow breath. Breathing through nose impossible, swallowing like, like swallowing small but very sharp knives. And then I wake up again and its 5pm. Fortunately, I have a house guest at the moment so I haven't left small person alone to his own devices all day.. but really.. 5pm. Thank goodness for wireless internet and the ability to whine at you all en masse from my bed.

Poker was pretty terrible yesterday evening, despite feeling pretty upbeat about things. I disappoint myself all the time in how it can only take one bad beat to send me into a terrible downward spiral of despair. It was a pretty bad beat - one that might win me an award, in fact (kings v 75o - I'll let you imagine the rest)- but the rest of the night, well, there were no excusues for my play really, except tilt. I remember clearly trying to bluff a clear fish off a pot on the early stages of a $5 sng. You know what I forgot? Fish don't fold. I also, whilst playing an MTT with Acorn, pushed two pair into a clearly obvious made straight. So i went to bed earlyish, and here I am.
Now, I have to go and get some icecream. See you in the bloggerment.

Its not been that bad a week, poker wise. I've managed two final mtt tables and have come very deep in a couple of others. Not for very much money, mind. The reason for these low pay outs ( eg. 8 out of 450 odd for a profit of $70 ish) is because I play $5 mtts. I don't know - its not a bankroll factor so much as a.. well. I don't know. Maybe I think that my win rate isn't high enough to justify higher buy ins. So last night, I decided to take a shot at something bigger - a $24 buy in $17,500 gtd deep stack tourney on full tilt. Deep stack tourneys suit me. I could afford it. And the man persuades me that my game is easily good enough. No reason, then , not to give it a go.
I didn't start well. My queens got tangled up in the second hand who called my BIG raise preflop with A4o and caught his 4 on the flop. Needless to say he called my bets all the way down to the river where he caught his inevitable ace. Ho Hum, down to 300 or so chips out of 3000. The good news is that over the next hour i took those 300 chips to 7500 odd chips. The bad news is that i fucked them all off in one go with my top two pair to a well played set. I should have got away from that hand - but in the $5 tourneys I've been playing - no one plays their sets like that! The experience did persuade me that I ought to give it another go though. Some time.

I then went onto play a couple of $5 sngs with The Edge and Acorn at Stars. The standard of play in these was.. appalling. But I got my chips in ahead (thats not usually enough in these, I don't think) and won one and came third in another. I've had a lot of late nights though this week with one thing or another and I didn't have much energy left for anything else.

The boy is much better now, despite catching conjunctivitis to add to his other ills. And, (taps forehead) I seem to have go off scot free. So far. To say I'm relieved to see him eating, sleeping and playing normally after this week is probably stretching the art of understatement far too far, but you know what I mean. In other good news, my short sabbatical from the work place has allowed me the time for a weekend away in Glasgow next weekend. I'm very pleased about this indeed. Just need to go and make some cash to help offset my flight!

Ladies in lingerie, men. Don't say I never do anything for you...



This post has taken all day. I'm too tired to write.
Why am I tired? Well, I can no longer claim that work is the cause of this because I (and I still can't write this without breaking out into a huge grin) Quit My Job on Monday. I had written a long post on the why's of this - but you know what? Its boring.
As I'm not working my notice there and it was a fairly spontaneous decision I have to get another job - risky this close to Christmas but you know, I'd rather work for minimum wage at a phone monkey's job than spend another hour in that place. So its all good.
Unfortunately, this week has not been an exercise in rest and relaxation - my little one has been very ill with another virus this week, and it's taken it's toll on the pair of us. If its not getting up every few hours in the night its cleaning clothes and sheets and sofa covers. There's nothing on earth that demonstrates that absolute powerlessness and futility involved in parenthood than a child that is sick or in pain. Most especially when they're not yet at an age to understand that the pain will indeed go away. I also suspect that I've picked it up for myself, which I'm obviously looking forward to immensely.

I should go to bed, but I'm going to stay up and play poker instead.

I had such good time in Glasgow this weekend I don't even know where to start.

You know, I've been chatting regularly online with Acorn, Juice and The Edge for two years and change now. Many hours a week, sometimes, for over a hundred weeks. When I think about this, it leads me to the conclusion that I play far too much online poker - but thats a separate issue. But despite all these hours of chat, I'd never met any of them until this weekend. Now that I have, theres a lot of me that wonders why it took me so long.
So, brief (ok, maybe not that brief) and heavily edited trip report:

Saturday
9 ish - Meet Juice and The Edge in Glasgow Airport. Catch bus into Glasgow
10 ish Breakfast and light shopping in Glasgow. Juice and The Edge being very polite about trailing around after me (but not yet carrying my bags). Cold and raining. Juice meets female friend for lunch. Definitely NOT a date. The Edge and I take a light lunch at an expensive cafe inspired by Rennie Mackintosh. Nice sandwich, excellent tea. The Edge and I disagree about the merits of putting the milk in first. Wander down to Marks and Spencer in pouring rain (just disgusting weather), Juice catches up and we meet Acorn.
2 ish. Drive to Pick up Nacho the Wonderdog in the snow and head back to Acorn's. Drop bags, drink tea and laugh as Nacho attempts to make sweet, sweet love to Juice's arm. Play turbo ( i think) at Pstars between us. Possibly make money.
4 ish Drop Nacho back. Watch Acorn and Juice play pool. Acorn extend his lead to 13-1 (on aggregate). meet Ross, Acorn's cousin, and head for tea, here.
7. Meet Dudley Do-right and Sandy at Acorn's. At some point drive to his friend Big Chap's house to play in a poker tourney. Play. Have Kings get sucked out by Sandy's qjo (who said poker was fixed?). Get very stoned.
2 ish. Get back to Acorn's and wait for bloody pantomime that is boxing match between Hatton and Mayweather.
6 ish. Wait for all non-resident guests to leave so we could get some much needed shut eye. Fail to get more than about an hour's sleep.

Sunday
11. Get up and mong about for three hours. Struggle to cook fry-up for four in Scotland's most ill equipped kitchen. Eat.
4 In no mood to leave flat, go and play more pool with Juice and Acorn and The Edge. Realise why I never play pool. Acorn extends his lead over Juice to 17-1 ( I think)
6. Play an sngay at full tilt between us. Teach poker's most laid back blogger how to take a game down by effective use of trash talk in the chatbox.
7 Drive to airport and reluctantly go home.

It was a great weekend, in many respects. I was sad to come home and I'm really glad we all made it. I hope to see everyone again, within two years, and I will probably see Acorn again a lot sooner than that. Lovely men - I'm a lucky girl to have such nice friends.

We judge others by their behaviour. We judge ourselves by our intentions

No poker this week so far since Sunday. And, Pokergods(amen), if you're listening, I'm not missing worshipping at your bloody temple at the moment. Blasphemy as it may be, you've blessed my opponents with too many miracles lately and I've had it with you - until Saturday night's live game in Glasgow, at any rate.

So, reader, I have learned some things this week and, although they are not poker related, I thought I would share them with you.

1) Tia Maria is not particularly nice. It can be quite nice in a very hot strong coffee with milk, and is alright (but not as good) in chocolate milkshake. A Tia Maria hangover is particularly unpleasant.

2) Christmas shopping on the interweb can be just as stressful as unpleasant as trudging up and down the highstreet. At least you don't have to wander round Toys-R-Us for two hours carefully picking out presents against two dimensional photographs and poor descriptions only to find (after paying, natch) that half of the stuff you have bought will arrive 'after December 26th'. Hello? Amazon? You think my family want to open their presents on the 27th? Even worse is when it takes 15 or 20 minutes simply to remove those items.

3) The day you choose go to pick out your winter coat will be sticky and humid and (you will have a hangover from an ill-advised Tia Maria session the night before) and although you have seen 7- 10 marvellous coats over the past few weeks, they have all disappeared from the rails only to be replaced by similar but cheaply made, nasty things that make you look short and dumpy. They've all risen 30% in price too.

4) Just because the people who are responsible for looking after your children may be very nice, that doesn't mean they are necessarily 100% honest about the course of events over a given day.
And this places you, as a parent in an impossible situation. You WILL lose sleep, if you find this out for yourself.

5) Sometimes, you can think you are a clever, independent, emotionally mature adult.Then you realise that the heart wants what the heart wants, and brains have got nothing to do with anything. Unfortunately, this realisation doesn't make any actuality any more pleasant to bear.

But you knew all of that, eh? Good luck!

You know, I find it so hard to self moderate. I can avoid, usually, posting bad beats simply because I find them so yawnsome to read on other people's blogs. I usually don't (start) the slagging off of other bloggers on this space because, frankly, I find it a bit cheap and classless. I may feel the need to finish something or defend myself, but, never, as far as I can remember have I started a blog with.. They did this, and therefore I think They are a tosser...
Usually bad beats, although they don't just roll off my back as a general rule, I try not to take personally.
Sometimes, however, I find it a bit harder.

And you know, I still can't bring myself to do it. I will say though, if you're willing to instacall off your whole stack with a suited ace in one single hand with three outs, early blinds, you ..well. No. I wish you all the luck in the world.

Ahhh, its nearly Christmas, eh? I think I need a PA. I have bought two presents so far this year. For once, its not money (the lack, thereof) that has caused this ridiculously slow start to my Christmas shopping but time. I have no TIME to go trudging round the shops. Loving friends and family point out that in that case, I have no time to fly up to Glasgow this weekend for a poker home game. At this point I stick my fingers in my ears and go 'la lalala lala'. They're right, of course. But I could do with a weekend away.
Work continues to be, well, work. Its nice to have a bit of money in my pocket for a change. But its work, isn't it. I keep telling myself that very few people actually want to go to work on a Monday morning and that I've got to just suck it up. So I will, I do. And I'm looking very much forward to not having to count the pennies this Christmas, worrying about my overdraft when I buy presents so that the little one doesn't think that Father Christmas is in fact, Scrooge. Its nice to look forward to buying a great dress for Christmas parties than scraping together whatever I can from Topshop with shoes that 'will have to do'. Am I looking forward to Christmas this year? Why yes, yes I am!

I think I'm going to give the virtual felts a rest this week. Time to pay off the Marketing sharks at Amazon!

I watch too much telly. FAR too much. Its funny ( I mean, its not funny, its pretty sad), but three months ago I watched very little telly. Now, all it seems I have the energy to do most evenings is open a bottle of wine/beer and mong out in front of the idiot box for a few hours. Does work do this to you too or do I have some kind of deficiency? I watch stuff I would never have watched before - How to look good naked, Love Trap, The Bill ( I mean, ffs, The Bill) I watch *all* of the evening soaps, and I know *all* of the plotlines. I am beginning to despair at myself.
I did however, manage to catch a cracker the other night. Dear Deirdre. There is always a sick bit of me that gets some kind of pleasure from the Dear Deidre columns, I mean, lets face it - Sun readers are very rarely Nobel Prize candidates (I exclude my dear friend Acorn in all further slagging of Sun readers),I don;t know what it is about the Sun, whether its the tits, the catchy puntastic headlines, the kneejerk news, the lack of intelligent discussion about anything intelligent.. I don;t know. Or Maybe its the problem page. I always assumed these 'problems' were made up by the paper, so salacious are they in their content. Stories like.. I dunno..'Loverat Bedded my Mum', 'Pregnant by Toyboy Colleague' or 'I'm Addicted to Orgies'. Well, according to this program I watched, They're ALL TRUE. Theres a team of middle-aged women in Middle England who answer these letters and they're all sent in by readers.
The thing that really surprised me about this programme was just how judgemental Deirdre and her team were (one middle aged man's hands were literally shaking whilst he wrote the words anal and fisting on a flip chart - in anger!.) About all sorts of things. Now I suppose that I'm a fairly sexually liberal woman (If you think I mean easy, you're making an error) but I think what we need to say is that its not necessarily sexual practices that have led Deirdre's readers down the primrose path to hell, but their own stupidity. Lots of people have threesomes, lots of people engage in casual sexual encounters as a preference, LOADS of people watch porn on the internet, and lots and lots of people have sex that falls way outside the strictly vanilla category and are having a great time. Deirdre never says though 'This has happened to you because you're a fucking idiot' but rather "This has happened to you because of the fucking you're doing".
Shame on you, Deirdre. But it was fun, nonetheless.

No real poker news. I'm too busy watching the telly to focus much on what I'm doing, and the roll is suffering a bit. Oh well!

And thats just not the weather. Shall I bore you all with a bad beat story? I was playing in a $10 sng just now. I'm mid stack, its early blinds. Theres a loose aggressive pushing his weight around because he sucked out very early on. He makes a raise of 3 three times the big blind - any Ace. I call with KT and happily hit two pair on the flop. He bets had on the flop (having caught nothing) and he bets again on the turn. Theres a dim possibilty of a straight on the board but its unlikely he has it. I reraise all in, he instacalls with a gutshot and an overcard (a9) he hits his gutshot. Of Course. And then he 'Lol's. And I'm out. Its not very interesting, of course - bad beat stories never are. But then he said, when someone pointed out that it was a bit rude to LOL when you suck someone out to that degree, he said 'I thought she was bluffing'. Oh well then, thats alright.
I won an $11 turbo last night, playing with Acorn, a sociable game, played far too late at night. Feels like the first time I've won anything in an age, really (although, looking back on my stats, I know thats not true) but as I write these words, sat on the coldest possible deck, I am frustrated by the beats I can remember over the past week or so. I touched, last night, on hating the fish. When we chuckle over their Sharkscope stats in our instant messaging chats, my partners in crime feel superior in that we are winning players, I suppose, we can show hard profit for our efforts. Without the fish, of course, there would be no dollars floating about in the system for us to pick up so seemingly without effort. Logically, I know this. But when 5 games out of six, you've gone out to ridiculous three outers its a little harder to see the big picture. I know I'm not alone in the periods of frustration, a scan bloggers over the past weeks confirms that lots of people are feeling it at the moment. Maybe we're the fish eh? Maybe betting when we're ahead and folding when we're behind is just a tactic thats so last year. God, what a whiner I am. Shut up, Ro.

The weather is horrible here. I don't mind the cold, but I mind the wet. And wet and cold. Ugh, I feel like ..well I don't know. If theres a way to dissolve in a cold and wet pile, then I'm sure on my way home from work tonight I got close. I don't know who, in the world, invented tights. I hate tights. I'm gonna stop wearing bloody tights man, especially in this weather.
It just gets to the point where you walk through your door, and you're peeling off your clothes as soon as the door is closed behind you. And your clothes are sticking to you! No more skirts for me until the springtime.
Bloody Winter. Bloody Fish. Still, its at last the right weather for Whisky. And thats something.

When bloggers write posts with anyone specific in mind, I am always delightfully entertained by a 'naming no names' clause at the top of the post, if that person can be easily identified by what is said about them. Its a bit cheeky, in my view. What is it we're trying to achieve by doing that? Some motivations, I guess I'll never be able to fathom out.

As a general rule, in poker, my biggest frustration is getting sucked out by fish. Fish who call raises with rubbish, who'll call your aces down to the river with a pair hoping to find its partner, who will call against the odds with backdoor flushes, inside straights, call all their stack on the flop with a couple of overcards to the board,play high connectors like Aces that sort of thing. And my esteemed colleagues at the table tell me that I should be grateful for the idiocy of these players. Tell me that without donkeys who don;t understand the odds of a situation working out, and paying too much to find out are what has built my bankroll. They are right, of course. I should be fucking overjoyed (I never claimed to be a lady, see, so I can profane with freedom and pleasure). I attempt to play games with people whose game i respect - that I feel I can learn something from. I do not play $5 games of poker as a general rule because i get tired of people not understanding moves, not understanding when their odds are clearly being denied, a basic understanding of poker theory - gap concept, that sort of thing. SO really, when I see players with a lack of understanding in this sort of thing , my friends are right - shouldn't say anything, at all. But I was not born with that sort of brain, sadly. Luckily, in the Bloggerment weekly, the standard of play is generally excellent. Usually, I would say the game runs pretty true to form. Sometimes, poker is not a meritocracy (for those whose first language is text message, I'm afraid I can't be bothered to post a dictionary definition - go use a dictionary), and the most unlikely people get lucky. Lucky them - so, my friends say, lucky the rest of us. But I still don't like it. I still don't like to see people with a poor understanding of poker win poker matches. Can't help it. It would be easier for you all to understand what I was saying had I kept some hand histories of what I meant - but that, would just be churlish and petty - not far off, I suppose from writing slaggy blog posts but not naming names.

I'm not going to stop anyone's feelings about me stop me enjoying a game of poker. Ever. I guess I'm just too thick skinned to care. I don't care what people have to say about me, think about me, say to me when I'm at the table ( or laughably, off it). What does, and will fuck me off for some time to come though, is watch poor players succeed over better ones and everyone go,'oh yes, well done', when its shit.
If it looks like BS and smells like BS, don't go and taste it folks because it prolly is BS.

I hope you all have a great week. back with a more even handed post really soon!

For this blog.
I am in blogger ennui. (To those of you whose first language is text, ennui is a noun which means :A feeling of weariness and dissatisfaction arising from lack of interest; boredom).

I think it looks nicer though. I have to update my blog links next so anyone else looking to quit their blogs this week to save me a job in advance?

Good luck at the felt, kids

Really, it should make no odds to me at all how England fared in the rugby world cup final. But I'm sorry they lost. I suppose things will be said about the try that never was and what difference that might have made to the game but still, England gave away some unnecessary points away last night through ill discipline - (6 points through penalties) and their inability to take advantage of a scrappy and disorganised opposition in the mid to late stages of the second half probably meant the end result was fair enough, really. Sad, but fair enough. It was easy to tell from the faces of the England team post match that 2nd in the world was not of much consolation - and I'm sure we can all understand that feeling from our own (somewhat smaller) perspectives. But I can't be alone in thinking that it was a minor miracle, given their form over the past couple of years, that they got that far.

The poker is still going alright. I dropped a few bucks in a few disappointing MTT performances this weekend but having a relatively small goal in making $1000 through SNGs seems to be working out quite well. As of this morning I'm up to $667 from Wednesday's $584 and my sharkie stats are on a good upward trajectory. Slightly ragged and bumpy, but a definite upward curve. This may seem like small potatoes to some of my readers but for me its good good progress. The thing I like best though, is that I've noticed an improvement in my play. Regardless of the result of a hand or even a game at the moment, that I've done the right thing (usually). Theres nothing we can do about variance, its absolutely fair to say. If you get busted by a three outer or someone has paid too much for their crappy draw ('I had loads of outs!', 'No, you dimwit, you had 8, with one card to come') or you get nothing better than J2o for the tournament, well, then thats grim - and when that sort of thing seems to stretch out for days, even weeks it can be very unpleasant. Knowing you did the right thing. Helps.
I'm still very tempted to get PokerXfactor before I meet my target, justifying it by thinking that my profits will increase enough to easily make up for the expense. That would be the easy thing to do. However, its not just the expense - although it is unarguably expensive - the fact is, sometimes its better for us just to see things out once we've decided we're going to do it. So thats what I'm going to do. Hopefully it won't take too long.

Good & bad is the news that the winner of The WCOOP main event, TheVOid, has been qualifying after being investigated for multi-accounting after apparently setting up an account for his 'ahem' sister. The full story is here.
Its always very sad for us normals when we hear about any kind of cheating in poker, really, although I always assume at the pitiful stakes I play - noone is going to be bothered to take my money. But good job to Pokerstars for sorting it out. Does anyone know who it was?

Even better news in The Times yesterday, better for us who like a drink, anyway. Studies show that men who consumed between 21-30 units a week had the 'lowest mortality rates in Britain', and even better, that a man would have to drink 63 units a week to face the same risk of death as a teetotaller. I don't know about you, but I think we should celebrate with a drink.
Happy fishing!

Y must u write lke this, ppl? Its gr8 4 u but I h8 it. Do u no how bad it lks? If u want ppl 2 think u r 12 or gr8tly lacking in br8ns, carry on.
Otherwise, please, give it a rest.
(mini) rant over. Well, I figure no-one reads this blog anyway..

Hello reader,
I'm a bit stuck for words tonight. Work is as it was, family are as they were. Er..
My leg! Does anyone remember I hurt my leg really badly late spring early summer? (medial ligament injury). Well, leg brace got taken off for the last time today.
There will still be no running for a while, (and I still miss the running, desperately) because my leg muscles are basically dead but its all progress. I never thought I would say this, ever, but I'm really looking forward to exercising again. And shall I tell you the main reason why? My ass. My ass is getting so big from all this lack of physical activity that I swear it frightens small children as I walk down the street. Well, ok, maybe its not that bad. But its pretty bad. When you go from running twenty kilometres a week to not even running for the bus but carry on eating and drinking like it then its not good news. Not good at all.
Wow, I can't believe I'm telling you all of this!

Oooooh k. Crunching gear change. Poker has been quite good so far this week - I kind of didn't like to write this in case I get cursed - but it has (and I don't even want to tell you how good for that very same reason).I don't know if its just a glitch or on a lucky streak, but its good. However, I've been pretty directionless in my poker for months now. And profits have suffered as a result. We all need a focus, when we play. So I do have a focus now. Inspired my Miks post on SNGS and Pokerxfactor I decided, given that SNGS are my favourite way to play poker at the moment, and I would like to subscribe to Pokerxfactor but I don't really have the money. So what I'm going to do is this. I currently have $584.60 on Full Tilt, if (no, when, dammit!)I can get to $1000 by playing SNGS and the odd tourney, I'll subscribe. I suppose I could justify joining now in the knowledge that it would help me make my target faster - but I don't really think I'll be all that focused on the target if I do.
Wish me luck, won't you?

So, it turns out I did have rather a lot to say for myself after all. I have an sng to fit in before bed now so thats yer lot.

Urgh.
Ten past four on a sunday afternoon. I had an hour and a half sleep last night, I fed six at lunchtime. My ex mother in law is here, thankfully snoozing in the chair and my head hurts.
'why did you sleep so poorly, Rosie?', I hear you ask. Well, I stayed up to come second in a $5 full tilt MTT last night - so it would have been pretty rude to go to bed at one - but finally sliding into bed at 4am this morning was a bad idea. It was a good tourney. I enjoyed it, very much. I didn't feel like there was much justice in losing heads up to the 'worlds biggest suckout merchant',who played high connectors like Aces and mysteriously managed to get paid off each time, but thats poker. And I'm certainly not complaining about the $320 winnings. I was having one of those nights where I was feeling that poker really owed me something. DO you know what I mean, where you play patient, (hopefully)skilled poker for days, weeks and keep getting slapped around by the deck? You have Kings, well, you're going to get arseraped on the river by A2o. Set of seven on the flop? Fantastic, be prepared to be beaten by some fuckwit on a bluff taking you all in and hitting the worse runner runner flush in history> We bloggers that moan about donkeys really know they are our friends and should be encouraged at the table, we do know, I promise - but it doesn't make it any less galling when it happens. SO yeah, I felt that I was due to hit a few hands last night and my goodness me, I did. Theres a bit in tournament play that I don't get anywhere else - I think the technical term is flow, when everything starts to fall into place at the table and at the time, it becomes almost effortless to make the right bets, read your opponents, time just flies away and you remember what it was that you so loved about this game, anyway. I haven't felt that way for a long time. Incidentally, I might suggest that Acorn put his superior railing skills up for hire. Mtt play can be a long lonely road sometimes, and Acorn, your encouragement and advice was very much appreciated last night.

So I don't know about the Blogger tonight, I'm shattered. I don;t have that a good feeling about the wbcoop at the moment either, but it has the benefit of at the very least being free.
Good luck to all of you tonight - except against me!

God, I'm such a bitch sometimes. I just deleted a whole post that I wrote. I didn't want to get in trouble by with the UK blog police. So tongue bitten, for now.
Its difficult being female sometimes, and not being 'nice'. I am often told, my language is not 'ladylike', that I am blunt, that I can be unkind. Yawn. Sorry. I just seemed to miss out on the Pollyanna gene.

Maybe I'll start a pokerbitch blog where I can say all of these things that I think that just aren't friendly and fluffy bunny-wabbity and you know what? I bet my total bankroll that you'd enjoy reading it more than this. It'll be a bit of a guilty pleasure though, won;t it? ;0)

Anyway, onto safer stuff. I've been back at work for a few days now and, although I've been busy as hell I've been surprised at how much I've enjoyed myself. There is someone to flirt with, a new friend, the job is just mentally taxing enough and my boss, despite me taking an initial dislike, thinks I am the best thing since sliced bread. They've offered me a permanent contract, and, I should imagine, I'll probably take it. They could pay more in an ideal world but they've offered enough to make it worth my while and they've cut my hours by two a week (at my request) so I can be home at a better time for my little one. Who, is, incidentally doing much better at nursery - although he apparently threw a fit of Mariah Carey proportion when he was given sweet & sour chicken for lunch today.(hes not, despite my best attempts, the most adventurous eater, preferring fish fingers, toast, plain chicken and ice cream over any other foods) How fucking dare they ?! (thats my boy!) In fact, I'm feeling more optimistic about working since I have at any time since I decided to get a job all the way back in June. So I'm happy about that.

Poker is, well, poker is poker. I'd love to give you some bad beat stories now, or whine on. I'd looooove it. But you already know it, don;t you? Because you've played poker this week and you know what them damn fish are like. Hello? Fold button? HELLO?!!
I did see a sobering bit of fishery this week that made me feel a bit sad, actually. I wish I'd kept the sharkie stats for you to look at but I was sat at a 180 seater at stars and there was this player who'd called me down to the river with bottom pair - shit kicker. (thanks for the chips, btw, if you're reading). I took an idle glance at his sharkie stats to see that playing an average of $10 sngs, this chap had managed to lose over $20,000. Now I tell you what, it wouldn't matter if I were a fucking billionaire, if I lost that amount of money playing sngs, I'd take it as a hint that maybe hold'em wasn't my game. You know?

Can someone remind me to update my links, please?!

I fucking love this song.
Well, I have no empirical evidence that poker makes you sick, but last night, playing the blogger I felt some strange stomach pains. I bubbled. Ten minutes later I'm feeling sick, dizzy and then I'm kneeling on the bathroom floor, well - I'm sure you can imagine what I was doing without spelling it out. Was this the result of being down to the flop by someone with two overs and no draw to take me out of the tourney. Who knows?
I've had two days off sick since I started work. Thats not good, is it?

I've been enjoying the bloggerment much more lately. 29 attempts though and no money - doesn't make me look the most skilled player in the world but I guess given that I can comfortably afford it out of my roll every week makes it not so bad. There are some players that I really enjoy playing - some that scare the life out of me (no, no, I'm not telling) and usually playing makes me feel really pleased about the little blogging community that we've got here.

I don't think I have anything else to say, really, I just wanted an excuse to blast some Stevie Wonder at you. Stay healthy!

How is it Saturday afternoon already? How is that Chelsea have gone four league games now without a win? How is it that it feels like bloody winter already? All these mysteries clearly have readily available answers so please don't send your replies on a postcard. Its RHETORIC.

Well, this week has been pretty meh. I'm happy that I managed a full week at work without completely expiring, although, I have somehow picked up a bit of a headcold (note to the men - thats not the same as real flu) and I found myself heading for bed at 9.15 last night. Thats life on the edge for you. Yes, indeed. Work is still going alright - I had my first one-to-one meeting with my manager yesterday. It lasted all of about 5 minutes and he told me he thought I was great, and that he hopes I'll stay on as a permanent team member. They continue to be nice to me. I'm still have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing really. Its relatively easy money. My darling toddler is not doing so well at full time nursery, and the guilt is twisting my guts a bit, to say the least. People tell me not to feel guilty but thats easy to say when its not YOUR little cherub waking up you up before daybreak and his first words being: "Please don't send me to nursery today, Mummy". Makes you feel like.. cack. Like the worst parent in the whole world. I wish he could see that I wouldn't do it if I didn't have to. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that in a week or so, the situation start to improve. I don't know what else to do, if it doesn't.

Happy stuff, huh? I hope none of you ever come to get cheered up.

Something that did make me laugh this week, was, on the way to work after a rushed morning when I had not managed to have any breakfast, I was soo hungry. Cold and hungry. I was being tortured by images of hot buttered toast and coffee. Taste it? I could almost feel the butter dripping off my chin. There isn't very much in the way of food places in the end of town I work in, but I headed to the nearest coffee/sandwich shop I could see. Now this is an Italian place - Its called 'Goodfillas' in fact and there was a small, middle aged Italian lady inside. Not smiling. The place is empty.

Me "Do you sell Toast?"
Her, Sighing "No, we don't. Its funny, I've had over ten people come in and ask for that this morning" (Ten, I kid you not)
Me, smiling. "Maybe you should get a toaster"
Her, sighing "I already have one, I just don't make toast"

I didn't know what to say to this, really. Obviously shes so busy turning customers away at the door at that time of the morning, that she can turn away my pathetic coffee and toast order. I did find a shop that sold toast, btw, and happily turned over a rather extortionate £2.40 for two slices of toast and a large coffee. Its customers were queuing out of the door. Nothing like a bit of business sense eh?

Even more cheerily, Strictly Come Dancing is back next week. Aside from my well known love of The Sopranos, this is my TV highlight of the year. I don't think many of my fellow bloggers watch this show, maybe its not very manly or something. Maybe the sequins are considered a bit gay, but I love it. And its far better than X-factor (don't get me started on X-factor, actually). The only thing I think I find a bit grating is the presentation by Tess Daly and Bruce Forsyth. Just a bit too cheesy for me.

Anyway, I'm off to play some poker. I feel like I've written enough tonight. The suckouts have already been legendary. I'm currently playing some retard without a fold button with a -100% ROI. Amazingly he has almost three times as many chips as the rest of us combined on the bubble. What do you do against people like that? Nothing. There is Nothing you can do except pray for clemency from the pokergods (amen), but sadly they haven't been particularly kind, recently.

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How do you people work and play poker and not be completely shattered all the time? I AM EXHAUSTED. I stumble through the door at 6 each night and the evening is a blur of teas, baths, stories, tidying and general household admin until I'm too tired to do anything more constructive than slump in front of the telly for an hour until I finally crawl into bed at the exciting hour of 10pm. I no longer want to cook myself interesting dinners, I no longer want to talk to my friends, I no longer want to play poker, I no longer fancy a glass or two of wine. I just want my pyjamas, my Horlicks and my slippers (how glamourous is that picture, fellas?)I just want to lie down. What life is this? People tell me, that after four years, that work is just a shock to the system and it will get better. I hope so. I started a new term at my Spanish class last night and it was all I could do not to put my head down on my desk and doze off. I have about 5 hours of homework to do this week. I cannot see myself doing an of it. I know it will get better - I just can't imagine when.

Work isn't as bad as I thought it would be. I don't want to say anything that will identify the company I work for, already discussed on blogs as generally a bad idea, but its a pretty small company. They ARE nice, but they are disorganised, and although I understand the core of what I do - Insurance is insurance is insurance after all, theres been no training and the people I work with are so busy that they don't really have the time to help me too much. Once I get into it, though, I don't think it'll be too bad. I've had worse jobs, thats for sure.

There are things I want to write about, but, they'll have to wait a bit longer. Must wash up, must wash up, must wash up.