Playing the Rush

I'm on a rush. My apologies to anyone who's on a bad streak at the moment, but at least for the last week, I've been beating up cash games like I haven't in almost a year. My bankroll is cresting to a new height, and if I hadn't pissed away a couple hundred in tournament buyins, I'd really be dancing the horah around the living room right now. 3-6 limit holdem at Stars has been good to me. So has the $200 NL at Commerce, despite the awful blind structure. It's $3-5 blinds with a default preflop raise in the $20-25 range. But this post taught me what I need to know.

My most satisfying gambling victories this week, however, have been in various proposition bets and heads-up matches with Pauly . A race to 5 in Roshambo won me a free breakfast, a cocky "one-shot-only, none of this race to 5 crap" Roshambo won me a free lunch, and three consecutive NL heads-up victories yielded me a lovely chicken parmesan at the Italian restaurant on the corner of the block I grew up on. I guess I didn't tilt him too much, because he made me the kickass banner at the top of the page while I was napping this afternoon. Thanks Doc!

So between the welcome distraction of Pauly's visit, some winning sessions at the tables, and all of the exciting travel plans I'm making for the next couple of months (Vegas, Bonnaroo, a possible east coast swing), I'm rather enjoying this whole unemployment thing. But I know it's not forever. I've been in and out of casinos, sleeping through daylight and partying til dawn. I've forgotten what day it is on more than one occasion. I have not read an issue of Variety or the Hollywood Reporter in more than three weeks. I haven't done that in almost 10 years.

What is going on here?

A lot of people in my life are wondering the same thing. Here's what they're asking:

The Top 5 questions I've been asked since getting shitcanned:

1. So when are you going to start looking for another job? - my father

You're on my case about this already? Sheesh. Can a girl have a break after nearly seven years of indentured servitude to egotistical Academy-Award winning billionaires? OK, I know I'm going to need to find some way to earn a living beyond the next 6 or so months. I'm not that deluded. But in Hollywood, it's not like you just open the classifieds. When Charlie lost his first executive job many moons ago, he was out of work for 8 1/2 months. There aren't a helluva lot of executive gigs out there, and when they do come around, one only gets in the door via whispers and word of mouth and intense networking. I have a very solid resume for someone my age, not to mention a lot of people who owe me favors, and I think once I do get in those rooms, I'll do just fine. I always have in the past. I just want to make sure I'm choosing the right ones. It's too important for me to take this time right now to live in the moment and slow down and breathe.

2. So you ARE going back to life as a Hollywood D-Girl? -various biz friends

Wellllll.... I didn't say that. If there's any way for me to work on a flick with Charlie or set something up myself with a writer, I'd do that in a heartbeat than going back to life in an office. It's a hard one to call right now. I'd put it at about a coinflip.

3. What about becoming a professional poker player? That's probably what you really want. -my phishy ex-intern

I have absolutley no delusions of going pro. I am too emotional, drug-addled, sensitive, and under-rolled to attempt that. You know that list in Barry Greenstein's book of all the psychological qualities that make a winning poker player? Well I have like, none of them. I will continue to play to supplement my income as I always have, but I won't be trying to completely support myself through poker. However, I will be playing live a lot more often with all this time on my hands. Hey, so far I've been doing pretty well!

4. Are you going to write more? -Pauly

Now that you've spent two weeks in this place, you can understand, even just a little, just how much this city just inspires laziness. L.A. is a city of 10 AM movies and 2 PM brunches. It's sunny every fucking day. It never sucks to be outside, even when it's raining, because of the novelty of it all. We drive everywhere and valet our cars for six bucks. It's as much a part of our culture here as Chanel bags and plastic surgery.

That said, I do want to write. I do want to find a way to work it into my life on a more permanent basis. I want to attempt a novel, even if I only have characters and themes in my head and virtually no plot. I want to just vomit it onto the page and not care. And when you slink back off to New York, that's probably just what I'll do. I hope you'll hold me to it.

5. What really did happen to that Hasidic lady's cat? -Daddy

His name was Schlomo. He was gray with long fur. And that's all I can really talk about due to some impending legal action.