Monday, June 05, 2006

Burnt to a Crisp

My ass is so sunburnt right now it hurts to sit, and my back so fried to a rosy crisp that the slightest movement feels like a slap. I slept on my side all night it stung so bad. I got up this morning around 8 since that's when Angelina decided to start rehearsing for her Rent audition later this afternoon.

"It sounds like our freshman year dorm around here" Showcase remarked as she launched into her fourth straight rendition of Take Me or Leave Me.

Bean, my best girlfriend from college, was in town this weekend. Everyone's favorite Pittsburgh fashionista had met Kevin at a wedding a few months ago and the two of them launched into a phone relationship after they finished pawing each other in a dark conference room in a Western Pennsylvania Mariott. She decided to fly out here so they could spend some time together and sort of evaluate where things were going. They had a great date Friday night and she laid it out right at the beginning that she wouldn't be spending the night at his place. And after a lovely dinner and a drink back at his house in Brentwood, he suddenly turned into a big whiny baby when she asked him to drive her the four miles back to my place.

The next day they made plans to spend the day together, but when the spending the night question came back up, Kevin needed his rattle and pacifier back when he started whining yet again about making a ten minute drive at the end of the night. She flew across the country but he can't drive from Brentwood to Beverly Hills?

Bean had had enough by that point, and was pretty upset that he couldn't respect the boundaries she set. So we spend the remainder of the weekend together. After indulging her passion for fashion at Fred Segal, Lisa Kline, and a score of trendy boutiques that clothe L.A.'s most stylish and starving, we hit Venice Beach for a bit of sun and relaxation.

I slathered myself in SPF 30 before even leaving my apartment, but it mustn't have been enough. Then again, merely stepping outside is a sunburn risk for someone with my sensitive alabaster skin. I have one of those spray bottles of aloe vera cooling in my fridge and I've been applying it hourly. At least in a few days the red should be gone and I'll have a bit of that base tan Pauly was telling me to work on before hitting the Bonnaroo Music Festival in 2 weeks time.

On the poker front, I had a good week, even making a sizable cashout last night. Money is always a good thing for me, especially since I'll have to play a lot less this week. I have to really focus on writing before this trip, where I'll be totally unplugged for 6 days. Charlie and I are talking pretty much daily and I want to give him some pages to look at before I leave.

I can't believe the WSOP is almost here! Though I'd really like to play an event or two this year, it's going to have to happen for me via satellite. I got pretty close in one of the $26 Full Tilt Bracelet Races this week, finishing 12th of 243, but so far, no dice. I'm thinking of trying to parlay a few peeps into the $75 satellites for a better shot at a seat. Trying to hit top two of 200+ is just too big a crapshoot. There are also $216 satellites for a $2K prize package running three times a week at 9 PM PDT, but though there are $26 satellites into every other $216 tournament on Full Tilt, there aren't for this one. What's up with that?

Meanwhile, check out the 2006 WSOP Preview and whet your own appetite for the Big Dance.

My ass hurts. I need to stand up.


Gene said...

I have never, in all my years living here, heard the phrase "Pittsburgh fashionista" before. I can't get my mind around it. Isn't that an oxymoron like "jumbo shrimp" or "compassionate conservative"?

Even when I try saying it aloud it comes out funny, like I'm channelling Peter Lorre: "Peeeetsbourg...fashioneeeeestah".

Adding to the bizarreness is that I used to work with a girl who's nickname was "Bean". It was on her vanity license plate. I asked her once what it meant, she said it was a college nickname, and as she wasn't more forthcoming I didn't press the issue. I wasn't on that familiar of terms with her. If her first initial begins with the letter "K", we will be taking our first step into Incredible Coincidence territory. Though I can't imagine we're talking about the same girl.

Garthmeister J. said...

Take it from the token Australian: sun protection is all about reapplication. Every 90 minutes or so, slap on another layer of SPF 30+. Back home we can instantly tell who the English tourists are, as they are the colour of boiled lobsters. Mind you, that's because we have no Ozone Layer...

Unknown said...


Good luck chasing a bracelet. I'm gonna be PISSED if I don't see your face (even if I don't know what it looks like) at a WSOP Final Table this year.

I expect nothing less.