Summer 2008 Soundtrack

Moving to Vegas, it was a beautiful scene... the Sun Is Shining... it's a Soul Heaven and the Sound of Freedom was calling me.

I realized When I Grow Up I want to see the world, drive nice cars, I want to have boobies.

I played in the WSOP, but What Hurts the Most is being so close... and not winning. I needed a Miracle, but this time there was no Angel.

Then life seemed to Speed Up. I was Back To Zero.

I became Faded. Now that the Love Is Gone, I'm Uninvited.

I Can't Help Myself... I Kissed A Girl. I kissed a man. We start to Get It On... but he doesn't know my secret. He doesn't let me stand underneath his Umbrella.

So I left Vegas, Bleeding Love, but I had to Keep On Trying, to Keep On Rising. I know I have but I don't know for why. Let Me Think About It.

I watched DeLovely and it made my heart weep for that partner that together, we'd make the perfect team. Deep I Night, I cried. I longed for someone to be with. Someone to go Chasing Cars with. You know, Being In Love? Would I ever find a Love Like This?

And so I composed an Anthem for the girl that got away. You're on my heart, just like a Tattoo, but one day we'll be Together, one heart, one mind.

And so the Journey Continues... can't wait to See You Again. After all, Don't Cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?

So don't worry about me, I'll be Just Fine. Just Please Don't Stop The Music.

What Whore Moans Look Like...

Walked down to the sushi shop on the corner, felt pretty.

On the way there, a man rolls by slowly in a Caddy, driving through the parking lot adjacent to the sidewalk.

"Hey there, baby, I saw you doing your thing."

My thing was listening to music while I walked. Maybe I byounced a little at the traffic light; wasn't paying attention... B'youncie was playing... who knows?

Evidently, I didn't act like a hooker would. He picked up on that pretty quick. Most of the black guys who have been into me seemed quite adept at social cues. I have to admit, based on my small sample size, they ooze confidence and style in a way the other boys don't. It's pretty sexy.

Anyway, I let him know I was just meeting a friend for Sushi (I lied) and he was content to just watch me walk away before pulling out of the parking lot.

Now at the local headshop, where I went on my first day here in Vegas, and many times since, the local shopkeep is amazed I didn't find a man to stay with out here. He literally can't believe it! I guess I passed to him way back then and still now. This surprised me as it's very, very bright inside his store and I've spent hours in there. He actually asks the next customer who enters (a cute young man) if he wants to come party tonight with me, but not before telling me that the going rate for in-call sex services are around $100. Is he a pimp-wanna-be?

Of course I could have found a man and a place... but that's the trap of Vegas and I wasn't about to fall into it! Seems a lot of people here are looking for someone to take care of them, either by winning money from the casino or finding a sugar daddy. The sad part is that the casinos are actually kinder than the men. The casinos just take your money, the men take your self-respect.

On the way home, a Mexican in a bright red truck actually u-turned and wanted to give me a 'ride' home. A little drunk on sake (the fermented rice beverage, not raw salmon), I humor the boy. There's no way I'm getting into his truck, but let's see where this goes.

Awkward. At least he knows what he wants. I reassure him that I live on the block and I was looking forward to walking off a bit of dinner, and head on my way.

Sweet. I'm ready for New York!

PS- the book is for women going through menopause, not M2F...

You Loved Me Cause You're Crazy

Met a man today, he thought I was pretty.
He said come live with me, stay with me,
You need a big strong man to take care of you.

He said everything I needed to hear.
And oh he was handsome, and strong enough
to sweep me off my feet.

But don't ask me why,
When he found out
I used to be a guy,
He took it all away.

So many empty promises, so much untrue.
Tell me, what 's a woman to do?
So I packed up my clothes
and left all those troubles behind.

Hanging on...

The past few weeks have been filled with lots of drama. For the record, I prefer romantic comedies, but we play the roles we are assigned. Except when we don't. I've no time for such pursuits and I won't feed that energy. Nonetheless, it seems I'm staring in a reality drama show to be aired on the drama network. Queue dramatic music... stay tuned for tons of back-posts.

In the meantime, I managed to catch a Vegas show... a legend, even, the man of many voices, Danny Gans! Best described as ADD theatre, he sings songs spaning 70 years, backed by a tight 9-piece band. Part concert, part talk-show, part stand-up, and part Broadway, he fired through his material at such a rapid pace, I wondered, 10 minutes in, if he (and the band) could keep doing it for the whole show.

He did.

No wonder he's being doing a show here for more than 10 years. I remember seeing his visiage, larger-than-life, back in my earliest days here in Vegas.

Crazy Walker

I walked down the block to the local sushi shop.

At the counter, I sat next to a lady who lived cater-corner from me and a gentleman who lived across the street.

They both thought I was crazy for walking!

It wasn't too hot... 100 degrees
It wasn't too far... 3/4 block (3/4 mile)
It wasn't too dangerous... sidewalks and cross-walks all the way

Lol, if they think I'm crazy for that...

The Storm

I love it when it rains in the desert.

From where I was standing, a V-shaped section of the sky was visible through the trees. Standing on the second floor, when the wind blew through the trees, I could reach out and touch their leaves. It was quite a vantage point! The sky, normally black and back-lit by stars was brighter than twilight, lit up from the millions of bulbs on the strip. It was light enough outside to read a book, yet it was beyond midnight.

Staring into the storm, I waited. Suddenly a fork of lightning divides the sky and I see what appears to be as close as the trees a brilliant white streak. I jumped. Used to low-flying severe storms in the Midwest, I expected to hear the report instantaneously.

1-one thousand, 2-one thousand, 3-one thousand ... no trace of sound
8-one thousand, 9-one thousand, 10-one thousand ... still nothing!
14-one thousand, 15-one thousand, 16-one thousand ... was I ever going to hear anything?

Then, nearly 20 seconds after the flash, far off in the distance, there's a faint rumble. Over the next 5 seconds it repeats at increasing levels of loudness until finally, overhead there is a giant BOOM! that makes my hair stand on end.

And what happened next, I did not also expect... the boom just heard was then replayed over and over as it echoes to and from one side of the valley to the next. If one listened carefully, one could discern the topography of the land by timing the echoes and noting their relative loudness. First comes the report from due West- mountains just a few miles from that direction. Then from the South-West. The report from the East - still impressive - sounded tired, as if it had to travel much further and with greater difficulty. Then finally, the report from the South-East, the furthest range from here. Deep with reverberations that made the windows rattle.

Then the echos of the echoes began to report, and just as the many harmonics of a simple tone combine into a rich sound, so to did the echoes creates a percussive symphony that endured for nearly 40 seconds... fading into what sounded exactly like a car driving by, blaring the beat of a hip-hop song from a speaker tuned for too much bass.

Thump de thump. Thump de thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Then silence.

I can't believe the lightning bolt, as big as any I had every seen, was 4 miles away. I thought it was right on top of us... perhaps it was, just 4 miles up?

The wind howls and screams, the rain comes harder, and the cycle repeats with stunning regularity. With each report and its symphony of echos, I feel like a dolphin, able to map out the space I'm in with using just my ears. I can visualize where the storm is over the valley and which direction it is moving.

The rain continues to fall; a new sight for me in the dessert. I watch a mini-flood occur just a few feet down the street, at an intersection of storm drains. Just as the rain waters from Africa spill onto the land and flood entire regions of parched land, so to did these waters slowly gather around the edges of the street until both sides were united and the road was covered with a mini-river.

Next... a sudden calm. I wait.

The sprinklers turn on.

The rain seems aware of the silliness below and decides to move on, leaving me alone once more.

When Dreams Die

Hold Fast To Your Dreams,
For If Dreams Die,
Life Is A Broken-Winged Bird
That Cannot Fly...

The tourament starts in one hour. The tournament. The reason why I came out here. Exciting day today, only I'm not in it.

Words cannot describe my dissatisfaction. Oh, there's always next year... whatev. Soothes as much as "you can still adopt." Even knowing I finished top 100 in the ladies world championship doesn't assuage my grief.

What hurts the most is that I believed. I did all I could do, but throughout, I maintained a solid belief that I would make it, that I was worthy. Even until I went to bed last night, I kept alive the hope of pulling through miracle #3... but it was not to be.

Once again, we fall short and find ourselves at square one. Don't tell me I aim too high; my goals are not beyond my abilities. Hillary didn't win either, you think she'd feel better if you told her the country just wasn't ready for a woman president? No. She was ready, capable, and willing.

R.I.P. WSOP Dream... it was fun while it lasted.

You Loved Me When You Thought I Had A Vagina

Dr. Mayor was enjoying a fattening breakfast with his aunt out at the local pancake shop near her house. He thoroughly enjoyed her company, but he was unable to take his eyes of a certain young girl, sitting all alone, obviously waiting for someone who never came.

But this is not his blog.

It's Sunday, I'm meeting a friend at the Original Pancake House to terrorize Bradly at work. Only, she's not coming; I can't even get through to her on her cell... she's cashed out. No bother, I'm already up early, dressed, and hungry. I leave without her.

Bradly was working quite hard, dashing here and there, never stopping for a second. I was having a hard time understanding why he enjoyed the job so much until I met J.R., the shift manager. Everyone must have known he was gay, but I don't think he did. It was obvious why he loved his job; his hours appeared to be spent cracking jokes with the waitresses and customers.

On Bradly's advice, I had a veggie oven-baked omelet... scrumdilicious! I even took a picture of it so my friend would know what she was missing.

While there, unbeknownst to me, there's a man checking me out. He obviously likes what he sees, but I never even noticed. After my meal, Bradly comes over for a brief chat, we say our good-byes, and I thought that was that.

Well, Bradly was also serving the man and the fact that we seemed to be friends did not go unnoticed. He pays his bill and leaves only to come back in a few moments later. Later, I would find out that it took him all of his courage out there in the parking lot to come back in and search me out. He motions to speak with Bradly.

"Excuse me," he said, pointing at the table where I once was, "that girl who was just in here- do you know her well?"

"Yeah, I know her really well... she's my roommate!"

Bradly tells the man I'm here for the WSOP and, by the way, she's a Ph.D. He's impressed and says that he thinks I'm beautiful. He gives Bradly a business card and asks that I might call him. He's a doctor, internal medicine. A heart doctor.

Exciting!

I let a few days go by before calling; the number he left was his practice, so I wasn't too worried about actually talking to him. I can't seem to get through the doctors that are already treating me, so why would this be any different?

Ring. "Hello, this is Jordan, how may I help you?"

"Hi, uh, my name is Clio and Lance wanted me to return his call?"

The man on the other end of the line seems dubious.

"He's currently with a patient, may I ask if you are currently a patient of his?"

"No," I replied, "I met him at the pancake house last Sunday."

"Clio?"

"Yes?"

"Oh, wait just a minute, I'll go get him."

Huh, how about that? He comes to the phone, obviously in a hurry. It's obvious he really was with a patient, but somehow, he must of told his crew that I had "bat phone" privileges.

He's as eager as a child on Christmas Eve; it's kinda cute, having such a powerful man behave like this! He's very happy that I called, tells me he's with a patient, and would I do him the honor of giving him my phone number?

I do, and he tells me he'll call later when things aren't so busy.

Morning turns to evening and there's a blocked call coming through on the mobile. I let it go to voicemail. It's him! He's calling to say that he's going to be working for a few more hours, but that he'll call back.

I can only presume he wants to take me out to dinner, so I preemptively take a shower, smooth my legs, curl my hair and put on some makeup. Just about the time I'm finished, he calls back.

"Hi, what are you doing?"

I'm making it easy for him.

"I'm just thinking about what to do for dinner," comes my sing-song reply.

He takes the bait and we agree to meet at the Grand Lux inside the Plazzo. I put on a sun dress, some kitten heels and head out the door.

Snaking my way from Valet through the casino, I wonder what he'll look like? Would I be attracted to him? Probably not, but I wasn't going to let that get in the way of a good time! He probably has other redeeming qualities anyway, being a doctor and all...

The Plazzo is a small casino, but nonetheless, I can't find the Lux. I'm in the shops between Plazzo and Venetian and where I think it is, isn't. There but by the grace of God I go, fashionably late.

I finally find the restaurant and position myself where I can be seen. Seconds later I hear my name being called from over my shoulder. I spin around and see... a chest.

The Dr. is tall! He's not completely unfortunate looking! Now he's as eager as a child on Christmas morning!

The waitress seats us at a 2-top, but he's not happy about this arrangement. He wants to sit next to me! So, we find ourselves at a 4-top and he motions for me to sit on the booth side. He sits next to me, and after just a minute of conversation, realizes that he wants to look at me more than he wants to sit next to me, so he jumps around to the other side. Teehee.

He asks me about me and he's impressed that I am who I am and eyes me carefully.

"What's the catch?"

"What do you mean?"

"What's wrong with you? How can you be so wonderful?"

For a moment, I flash back to the jerk from the WSOP circuit events. But tonight was not like that. I mean, tall, strong, career-girls... he knows about me, right?

I use my hands to draw his eyes up and down my body... "Honey, what you see, is what you get."

He giggles as the waiter comes over. I order a very tasty Shiraz (St. Hallet) and the market fish, mahi mahi; he gets water and, I swear this is true, a salad. No matter, the conversation is good, I can tell he's impressed that I can follow his thoughts, but I think he's starting to feel threatened, so I start acting drunk (from one glass of wine! LOL!) and twirling my hair. Hey, I'm new at this, it's all I got.

The food comes and I was amazed. His salad was more like a garden, and my plate had a nice portion of fish plus five, 1-2-3-4-5 vegetables! Mashed sweet potatoes, broccoli, carrots, sugar snap peas, and mashed potatoes. I wonder how much "market price" was?

After eating he can no longer contain himself. He comes to sit next to me. I don't think he's used to this kind of affection. I give him some. He wants to take me out to Peppermill for drinks. He's played his cards right and I sure could use another drink.

"Okay."

He walks me to Valet and we take separate cars there. He self-parked, so he kisses me good-bye, and I have to strain- even in heels- to reach his lips. In the moment, I lose my sense of proprioception. (Did my leg just go up like when the wife kisses the husband at the end of 50s sitcoms? Haha, wish I could have seen that!) No wonder he likes tall girls! I sure feel cute, pretty, and petite around him!

The Peppermill is old-school Vegas. That's not to say it isn't modern, but the front half is like a 50s dinner and the back half is a groovy lounge, with neon everywhere, mirrors for walls, C-shaped oversized lounges, plasma TVs showing music videos, and featuring pools of water on fire. My kinda place.

We sit down in an out-of-the-way corner and give him what he wants; I sit next to him. He tells me, among other things, that he's looking to take a vacation soon, to Cozumel, and that he wants me to go with him.

"Ew, Mexico?" I tease.

"I hate Mexico, myself," he counters, "but Cozumel is fantastic. You should come with me!"

All in all, it's been a pretty good night, and I actually find myself, if not attracted to this man, attracted to the way he makes me feel. He wants to take me home. I resist.

"I just want to hold you and watch a movie."

That doesn't sound so bad. I was a bit curious to see his house.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Okay, get me a shot, and let's go!"

He lives very near the strip, in a neighborhood of what must be multi-million dollar homes. His house, however, is in a quadplex that looked from the 60s. We go inside and up the wrought-iron staircase. His flat is huge, maybe 2,000 square feet. The foyer is marble floor which extends into the kitchen, and then the floor drops into the sunken lounge and living room.

All the walls are mirrors.

He's keen to "clean up" so I get comfortable at his piano and play some tunes. After a while, he returns and says the movie's ready. He's really proud of his new TV... 10 year old projection-TV technology, but I lie and say it's really impressive.

The "movie" is the tonight show with Jay Leno! Whatever, I climb up on his bed and watch TV with him. Turned on by Jay he wants to make out. He mentions that he wishes he could put on some jazz, but that the radio is in the other room. This guy is pathetic!

I grab the remote from the table, press a few buttons, and poof! Light jazz on the music channels he didn't know he had. He looks at me.

"Oh yeah, computers and stuff!"

"Yeah, and stuff."

He actually becomes more interested in how I did what I did than me, so I wait for him to figure out what just happened. He gets it back to Leno but doesn't know where to go from there.

"Press 928"

Leno flickers off and once again, light jazz is playing. The only difference is that this time, he did it.

He turns his attention to me, and suddenly I feel like I'm in the lion's den. In hindsight, it's all incredibly obvious, but at the time, there wasn't anything going on that seemed inappropriate.

As he kisses me, his hand moves up my leg. I deflect it up my arm. This pattern continues and thinking back to highschool and college, when the roles were reversed, I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud! Here I am blocking groping hands just as others did to me in my youth. Shelarious!

I can't control his hands on his body, however and pretty soon, he's nekkid. Oh my god, that thing is huge! He is a big guy, I reason, and for a moment, I giggle at how he'd look with the penis of a 5'6" man. Anyway, I'm glad I decided early that that was not going to happen.

I was just wearing a tiny summer dress and thong panties and pretty soon, I find myself without the dress. He's getting really excited now; I need to manage expectations.

"Baby, slow down!"

He ignores me, "I want to be inside you."

Snort. No way that thing's going inside me! Wait a minute. Inside me? That's something straight boys say.

OH MY GOD, HE DOESN'T KNOW!

Somewhere deep in the far recesses of my mind, far away from the current reality of life, there's a little celebration, but I'm too freaked out to notice.

"Inside me?"

He continues to make out like a straight man and not, in fact like a man who has actually touched another man's penis.

"Baby, baby, baby... there's something about me I thought you knew, but now I'm not sure."


I'm petrified. Not because I think this is a dangerous, violent man- on the contrary, he's safe and gentle. But still... not a good situation to be in! I hope I don't have to walk back to the Peppermill!

"Have you ever been with a boy before?"

"No, why?"

Oh dear. He's straight and he thinks I'm a genetic girl. Damn. Guess I'm not going to Cozumel after all.

"How would you feel if I told you I used to be a boy?"

He pauses at this. "I don't know. Did you?"

"Yes."

"When did you become a woman?"

Gulp.

"I'm still transitioning."

More silence. Yup, I'm walking back. To my surprise, he's actually curious!

"You're not a woman?"

"No."

"Can you feel this?" He grabs me close and kisses my breasts.

"MMmmh," I moan. I let myself enjoy it on the off chance he's okay with everything.

He stops as soon as he figures out the answer to his question.

More silence.

"I'm really sorry, I thought you knew! You said you just wanted to hold me!!" I'm crying now, why not? It really did hurt, and it only made me look more feminine in his eyes.

He repeats my words early at dinner, "What you see is what you get." He chuckles to himself. He's embarrassed that he didn't know, but seems satisfied to finally answer his earlier question at dinner.

I'm still crying; he thinks he really hurt me, which is true, but also exactly what I want him to think; I don't actually have a lot of options here, and I'm trying to keep him as a friend and not as an angry person, so, I appeal to his good nature and make like I'm devastated that he's no longer interested in me.

Actually, it wasn't a stretch to act that way.

Later, I would proudly look back at this moment as one of the first times I finally acted like a real woman... getting what I wanted (safely back to my car), but letting the man think he was in charge.

He's not angry, but he's no longer interested. He takes me back to my car and says, "I'll still be your friend." I cry myself home. I cry for the next few hours. I finally get tired of smelling like man, so I take another shower and end up crying myself to sleep.

Morning comes, and I'm fine enough, but I feel totally alone. I did not expect to hurt like that. I did not expect a week to pass before I could bear to write about it.

At least I know what I'll say if ever I call him again. "Doctor, I have a pain in my chest..."

Adventures in Dating...

On the advice of a friend, I've thrown my tiara into the dating circle. Let's see what happens shall we?

But... where to go? A gay club? Wal-mart? Maybe online first, but there are not many sites that let one search for transsexuals. I could only find three: a sex site catering to all kinds of fetishes, a sugar-daddy site with trans-options, and craigslist.

Wanna dress up as a maid and get spanked for not properly cleaning the floor? Want someone to poop on you while you masturbate? Like wearing diapers? Need a little pain with your pleasure? Hmm... this does not seem like the place for me. Oh they make a distinction between TS, TV, and CD, but what kind of person am I going to find here? Probably one looking for sex for whatever reason and I don't need that right now. Next!

Want a sugar daddy? Actually... I would not mind one. I create an account on a popular sugar-daddy-seeking sight. I say I'm trans. After two days of unsolicited abuse, my opinion of straight men amazingly sinks lower. Amazingly, cause I didn't know there was a whole new underworld land to the celler basement I was in.

Okay, how about the gay sugar daddy site? Looking around, I think this is a mistake. There are no trans here, just cross-dressers, gays-in-denial, and transvestites. No transsexuals (Here's the difference.). I'm the prettiest one there cause I'm the only one there. After a week, the only people penetrating my inbox are those same CD/TVers looking for daddies, something my account explicity says I'm not. Not the brightest bulbs here. Enough of this.

What about craigslist? Why not? To my surprise, under misc. romance, you can find all sorts of trans options!

misc romance >>>>>
w4m m4m m4w w4w t4m m4t
mw4mw mw4w mw4m w4mw m4mw w4ww m4mm mm4m ww4w ww4m mm4w m4ww w4mm t4mw mw4t

Well, okay, just 2 options... men seeking trans and couples seeking trans. (Alt.com has many!) Of course you know what you'll find if you go there... since there's only a 'T' option, there's cross-dressers and transvestites as well as transsexuals, just like the gay sugar daddy site.

I respond to an add from an older gentleman who says he's "generous." Vegas is a great town for a generous date... lunch at Paris and shopping. Quelle fun!

He replies to my charmingly delightful hello, "are you in las vegas?"

I reply, "every part of me!"

He continues, "do you live alone, have a nice safe discreet place for incall visits?"

Hmm... what is wrong with that? Let me count the ways... 1) with all red flags now waving, it screams psycho, 2) discreet? I ain't no boy in a dress! 3) my place??? If he can't afford a suite at Trump, he can't afford me.

This fish is too creepy/slimy, better throw it back into the sea... I reply, "No, I live with 10 child molesters and 20 heroin addicts in a neon box on Las Vegas Blvd. in front of the Bellagio fountains. Sorry, guess I'm not you're type... hope you find what you are searching for!"

That was fun, now for something a bit more real... here's a cute boy looking to come home to a sweet, caring tranny. Oh, I'm sweet and caring! I say hi.

I've never experienced sending emails as texts, but that's what we did for the next 1/2 hour, exchanging one-line emails. Well, I was composing beautiful little though poems, but never more than 8 words an email from him.

Hmm...

Then sends a photo... OMG, yummy beefcake.

Young, sensitive, artistic and smokin' hot bod. He says he has to go, but sends his # and wants to txt more later. I wait...

It's almost later...

We spend the next few hours exchanging more proper short-thoughts via SMS. He's every bit of loquacious as he was via email. How disappointing! Finally, he calls...

My phone pops up "Incoming Call - Kentucky" KENTUCKY? LOL! We talk... he's surprisingly more articulate (and drunk) in a higher-bandwidth channel. He's a pilot... helicopter! We chat a bit, and then he lets slip, "Did you see her shoes, girlfriend?"

OMG, I channeled a midwestern repressed gay boy moving to Vegas! You can imagine the type. Gay, has to hide it, but there's an out... get a T-Girl so that he's seen in public with a girl, but in the bed... well, who knows what in the bed, but boy-tgirl sex is closer to boy-boy sex than boy-girl sex.

Oh, why not, let's see where this goes, shall we? Besides, I wanna see what happens to this boy when he get to gay vegas and sees all the openly gay hot boys. I fear he'll drop me like a dildo, but that seems a small price of admission for the show.

Well, where it goes is this: he's coming to Vegas tomorrow! Cool!

Lunch

His first words to me were straight to the point.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

He was cute too, almost adorable even. No, definitely adorable.

I had spoken my first words to him earlier, "Hi, I'm Clio," but I guess what I took for massive indifference was instead intense shyness!

"No, I don't," I'm embarrassed to say. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

He continues to play the strong silent type to my questions and pulls up a seat next to me at the sushi counter. Very close to me. Almost touching.

"Would you like some crab, Tyler?" Sam, the sushi chef, saves him from another awkward silence.

"Yeah," he replies, "seven pieces!"

"And what about you, Clio? Dragon roll today?"

I decline, opting instead for the Tiger Maki #2. I can't afford sashimi and a dragon maki today. #2 comes loaded with an obscene amount of fresh fish stuffed with crab. It's by far the best deal on the menu, and I've been wanting to try it ever since I watched him make one for Paul last week. Sam really spoils his regulars who tip well and I was hoping he wouldn't disappoint today. I was skint, but hungry, and this was to be my only meal of the day.

"How old are you," questions the tired-looking lady from the other side of the bar. She looks like I feel.

"Twenty-three," Tyler lies. There's no way he's twenty-three! She responds in kind saying she's ten.

"Touchdown!" Tyler exclaims to himself, caught up in the ESPN highlights shown on the big screen. He's impressed by my chopstick abilities- watching me pick single pieces of pickled cucumber from a small bowl.

I make small talk. "Are you in school here?"

He shakes his head and snuggles up to me. I look at Sam. "He knows what he likes, huh?"

"Tyler! Stop that!" Sam's embarrassed for me.

"It's okay, he's a cute!" I rub his head. "Is today take your son to work day," I tease.

Sam hands Tyler a bowl of crab sticks. "Nah, his mother had to run some errands today. Day care is $600 a month for just 6 hours a day! Plus food!"

The crab sticks provide a temporary distraction for Tyler.

"Wat u like to drink?" offers an unfamiliar waiter. Usually, my drinks are just assumed and brought out to me.

"She'll have a diet and water," Sam answers. Deep, deep down, beneath all the depression and worries, I tingle. He still sees me as a girl!

I suddenly notices it's dark inside here today, and the placemats have all changed. Instead of their normal menu, it's just the standard photos of pieces of nigiri. How pedestrian! How odd!

My creation arrives just as Tyler finishes his crab. Sam did not disappoint! I flashback to the last time I was treated so nicely by a sushi chef. His name was a Chinese man named John, and it was not subtle that the reason for the special treatment was my partner in crime, Miss Winn. She had that effect on men; she was stunningly beautiful and wildly charismatic. I laugh to myself when I realize that the reason I'm finally getting the same extra slices of fish, the larger, better cuts, and the free samples from other people's orders is because I've become that pretty, engaging girl at the bar.

Tyler returns his attention to me. He's quite articulate for a three year-old who's never been in school. Amazing how conscious young minds are... and how wide and wondrous the world looks through fresh eyes. No detail goes unnoticed, every object here at the sushi bar is new.

We play with the wasabi and he watches me make a paste from it with a little bit of low-sodium soy sauce. I draw a smiley face in the green goo and he giggles as I pour more soy sauce into the dish and a grin appears from the puddles of sauce. He helps me mix it all up into a light brown liquid but declines to try it. Smart kid! ;) He's also not interested in trying any of my maki. He knows what he doesn't like too!

My three year-old was rusty, and I find myself reverting back into the teacher role I so often fell into around my younger cousins, trying to point out the finer details of each moment. He's getting excited now, touching my arms. I wonder what he's thinking. By golly, I think this is the first time I've passed to such a young child! His excitement grows, and soon he's pulling and tugging on my arms.

"Tyler, let him eat."

My heart sinks to a new depth. Did he just say him? Or was the it gender-neutral 'em? It for sure wasn't her. Did he just figure it out, or has he known all along? Was this just a slip? He has called me 'she' all those times before; that's awful sweet if he knew and still played along!

The lady across the bar starts talking to Tyler. It's obvious from the way she engaged with him, tired and weary as she was, that she possessed some kind of innate nurturing ability I lacked. I'm suddenly aware of a whole new category of behaviors I would have to learn to ape. Joyce recently told me that's not the word a woman would use, but she didn't give me an alternative... mimic perhaps? I would have to learn to mimic a whole new set of rules until they fired at an autonomous level. It seemed the list of rules grew longer with every passing day. (No pun intended!)

I can no longer bear the thought of being this inbetweeny thing, which is in and of itself a sad commentary on the state of my affairs. A split-second after I hear the phrase, I re-remember it as, "Tyler, let her eat!" I feel my face return to my normal outside-world smiling mask. I guess I should wear my poker face more often; my emotions are often betrayed by my expression. I wonder if Sam noticed?

He flicks on a cartoon of the Jetsons. It can't be the old-school series... the use of shadows are too modern, and some characters too Japanese-influenced, even for an avant-guard 60s space cartoon. When did they make a Jetsons movie? Where was I? London, I hoped.

Tyler again starts pulling for attention, so I give him some affection. Sam, sensing an opportunity, heads to the other side of the restaurant and eats his lunch of tofu, veg, and rice in peace. Tyler and I watch the Jetsons as I finish my fish and rice.

Every time I go there, I meet someone new. Welcome to Vegas, ay?

News U Lose

So that promising job offer, the one with the position exactly suited to my Ph.D., you know, the important usability stuff making a difference for health care providers of America? Call it woman's intuition, but I think they found out my 'secret' and have decided to hire someone a little less freaky. :( Oh, they haven't said so much, but the pattern is the same: they have done a 180 from earlier conversations, and, only after my prompting, have they disclosed that now they won't be hiring until Autumn and don't call us, we'll call you.

Some days it just doesn't pay to get out of bed! Today, however, I had help.

A computer keeps calling my phone, looking for Neil Patrick Harris, or Neil Diamond, or some Neil who isn't here. The recorded message plays so fast, it's taken me over a month of these calls - like today, usually at 6am - to finally get all the numbers down so I can call back and tell them to quit calling me. So I call, and I - patiently - explain that I'm not Neil and that they'll need take my number off their call list...

"Thank you sir, have a nice day."

Arrgh! Back to bed we go!

I'm scared. This is the 3rd job that's balked over - not my sexuality - but my identity. As you know, being transgendered is not a choice, and it's not about sexual preference, it's about identity... and it's such a threat to most people, I can't seem to get hired. I really don't know what I'm going to do!

It was suggested I wait tables or bartend in a gay bar. I'm almost 40... to have worked as hard as I have, for as long, to come so far, only to find myself a barmaid... well it's a good thing I don't have any self esteem left, or I might cry! I'm entertaining... what's the modern, Chantix term? ... suicidal ideations again.

Tell me, Ms. Washington, "What a difference a day makes!"

$1,500 No-Limit Hold'em Bracelet Event (#27)

Live WSOP Updates!

Starting now, and all day, and tomorrow, and Monday, I'll be blogging from my phone, sending up-to-the-significant event reports. (You can take the girl out of the geek but you can't out-geek a girl like me!)

Tournament #2 is a $1.5K No-Limit Hold'em Bracelet Event... wish me luck!

xoxo,
Clio

Where I Am
There were lots of players! 2,700 of them! So many, I wasn't even seated in the main room, but rather in a satellite room... they even used another room beyond this to house all the players!

With the ticket bought and an hour to go, it was time to stuff myself full of a high-quality protein source... mmm... breakfast!

And They're Off!
For this tournament, we get 3,000 chips... here's what that looks like.

The First Two Hours
Not much exciting happened for the first two hours. I mixed it up a couple of times, went up, then down, then up again where I stayed, patiently waiting for a hand.

Finally, pocket Kings on the button with a guy across the table raising 800 preflop. I call.

Flop comes King, King, Ten giving me quad kings! I look weak. He bets 1,600 into me, I hem and haw, frown, and finally call. (Teehee)

Turn comes an Ace, he checks, I check quickly.

River is another Ten, he checks, I twirl my hair and make look like I'm trying to think about bluffing. Finally, after what seemed like enough time to muster the courage, I bet all-in. He thinks about it for just a few seconds then calls. Where's my Oscar? ;)


The Second Two Hours
Didn't play one hand for two hours. I did play the last hand of the level with Seven-Eight in the big blind and three other players. The flop was Five, Six, Jack and I bet 1,000 into a 1,000 pot and took it down. We were then moved (finally) into the main event room.

At the end of four hours of play, I was just a bit behind the chip average of 5,600 with 4,500.

The Next Five Minutes
We played one hand and then the table got broken up. I got moved to the 'old' tables... the first ten tables in the tournament. I'd be here until the final table.

I get Ace-Jack clubs, in the big blind, blinds are 150 and 300 with a 50 ante and I have 5,400 chips left when a little stack raises all-in 1,500 more.

There's 2,600 in the pot already, I stare him down and figure him for a steal, maybe King-Jack or something like that. He's worried I'm considering a call. I make a decision to play... after all, you can't win if you don't play, and I was a long way from the money at this point.

I call, he shows King-Queen. I have the best hand at this point, but I'm just a 60-40 favorite. No matter, I was getting two chips for every chip bet, so, it was a good bet.

Flop comes Jack, Six, Three giving me a pair of Jacks. Now I'm an 80-20 favorite. Turn comes an Eight, now I'm an 85-15 favorite. River comes a Queen and I'm out $2,000. Unlucky.

Two hands go by, and I have Ace-Nine diamonds on the button. A fella across from me raises 600, he too seems weak, so I call with a pretty good heads-up hand.

Flop comes Nine-Nine-Seven. I have trip nines with an Ace kicker! He proceeds to bet me all in; he's got lots of chips. What am I supposed to do, fold? I call, he shows Queen-Eight.

Now, in non-poker terms, that's called absofcukinglutely nothing. I'm a 95% favorite to win. The only way he can beat me is by getting a double-inside straight draw (the guy to my right folded a Queen).

Turn comes Ten, River comes Jack, he gets a runner-runner straight and I go home in 975th place. I'm physically ill.

The whole table was aghast. They all knew I should now have nearly 10,000 chips, and in a rare show of poker sympathy, they tried to console me. Whatev, stupid and lucky wins again.

Afterthoughts
I still feel ill. It's times like this when I question the wisdom of my recent endeavors. Did I play too fast? There's an argument for that. I didn't have to call a double-big-blind bet with Ace-Nine suited on the button just because I sensed weakness. I didn't have to call the short stacks' all-in bet. I had the best hand in both cases, but didn't have much money in the pot with either call, so it would have been easy to get away from them. But no... I played the people. How could I not? I didn't play a hand for 2 hours while I watched these yahoos raise pre-flop and everyone else fold. I know they're getting sloppy and just bluffing.

I hate it when I'm right and I still lose. I was making sick reads too, really on top of my game, except for that part about being really unlucky. And so yet again, for the umpteenth time a poker player mutters, "I'd rather be lucky than good."

Life Is Good

Yes, I love the food out here... who wouldn't love sushi on every block, fish tacos, and pure fruit+ice smoothies? Not to mention spinach+veg burritos, spicy pad thai, and yummy lamb kabobs? Too bad I've stopped eating flesh... I do miss the taste of lamb.

But, odd as it may sound, there was still some food from Muncie that I found myself craving. Oh, they have Taco Bell (fresco-style steak tacos... but again, no flesh) and Long John's (mmm... fish & chips) but what they don't have anywhere in this city is the selection of frozen veggies that spoiled me in Muncie.

Dunno why... szechuan veggies? Nope. Teriyaki veggies? No way. Peas w/no butter? Nada. Roasted potatoes? Unh-uh. It's even rare to find broccoli and carrots in a herb dressing. So my staple diet of rice+veg has been non-existent out here. Bummer.

But today, on a whim, I stopped by yet another grocery store and nearly peed my panties!

I totally forgot why I was eating frozen veggies in the first place, and that place was that I couldn't find my London staple diet in Muncie. Imagine my joy when I found exactly that- all the way here in Vegas!

Noodles, salmon, broccoli, spinach, red peppers in a light teriyaki sauce... Thai green curry, noodles, and prawns... szechuan noodles, salmon, kale, peppers... all prepared fresh with no preservatives in steam-cooked microwavable containers! Whee!!!

Even found freshly made lentils, crab cakes with mango salsa (a favorite from Baja Fresh), and yes, teriyaki veggies.

It's the simple things in life that bring such pleasure... eat well, live well.

Later that day, I was hit with a revelation... I have not been this happy since London! I'm healing, I'm becoming the woman I've always wanted to be, I'm surrounded by great people, I'm loving life, I'm having fun, I'm even going out on a date tonight! tee-hee!

... and it only goes up from here!

Already, Bradly is telling me how wonderful LA is... cute gay boys, the beach, 78 degrees, top down, wind in hair! Malibu Bradly!

I am so grateful and thankful for the changes have come... I love my life!

Googled

Clio's on her way to making her mark!

After the ladies tournament, her name in lights:

• The official WSOP site
• ESPN
• CardPlayer
• PokerProp
• Poker Verdict
• The Hendon Mob

Wow! All that for finishing in the money. Granted, it's just a mention in the prize payouts, and on one site, I'm the only one listed without a city or state of residence! LOL, perhaps the poker gypsie moniker is taking hold?

I think we've dissipated all the energy from the first event... time focus on the next one! :)

Keeping The Dream Alive

With the Ladies tournament under my skirt, so to speak, the big question is what next? We can take the money and run, or we can invest in ourselves, using the winnings to buy-in to another bracelet event.

Steve Miller's option is the safe bet, for like Matt Damon said in Rounders, "we can pay Grandma off and..." no, not that part, after that he said, "you can't lose what you don't put in the middle."

"But you can't win much either."

Or, as Clio Soleil once said, "If you won't invest in yourself, who will?"

Saturday, June 14th, we play in the $1,500 buy-in No-Limit Hold'em Tournament!

He Called Me Baby!

Ladies World Championship No-Limit Holdem

It was a beautiful Sunday morning in the valley, just like the all the others. This Sunday, however was special, for today was the Ladies World Championship No-Limit Holdem event at the Rio!

I wake up before the alarm goes off, get ready, and by 11am, I'm $1,000 lighter and registered for the tournament along with 1,190 other women!

The first day is pretty gruelling: 2 solid hours of play, a 20-minute break, 2 more hours of play, a 20-minute break, 2 more hours of play, a 90-minute dinner break, 2 more hours of play, a 20 minute break, and then... you guessed it; another 2 hours of play! For the fans at home, that's a 12pm-2am work day in the high-stress environment of TV cameras and crew, photographers, journalists, all here to capture the biggest ladies-only tournament in the world!

Looking ahead at that solid six hours of play, I headed to the sushi shop around the corner to stuff myself (literally, it's all-you-can-eat) with raw salmon, cucumbers, avocado, and cooked eel. Afterwards, I enjoyed a fag with Shirley Williams (if you watched the WSOP 2007 on ESPN, you've seen her).

Oh, I forgot to mention the crowds... here's what the card room looked like minutes before the first event,

and here's the view captured from my table as I sat down minutes before the cards were dealt.

Lots of people, most of them watching! Most players found the environment a bit intimidating; pushing through the large crowds of spectators is frustrating, the noise can be disturbing, and the media attention can be distracting, but I never felt so at home in a poker room. All the poker rooms I've played at in Vegas, this one, this day... the best so far by a long shot! I felt like this is where I belonged!

The Beginning - Level One
You've heard me talk about how fast the tournament is... it's just like the WSOP main event, but you get 1/10th the chips to begin with. In case you're wondering, here's what that looks like:

I'm in the #10 seat, right next to the dealer. You can see what the rest of the table looked like here. The blinds are $25 and $50. I don't get a playable hand (or a decent hand without a preflop raise) the first 25 minutes, and then finally, in the big blind, I'm dealt Queen-Six. The flop comes with a Queen and a Six and I end up winning a $1,000 pot.

A few moments later, I have Ace-Jack in the little blind, and this lady raised me $150 to make it $250 preflop. You know me and blinds, so I call. The flop comes Ace Nine Ten, giving me top pair. She's first to act and bets $150, I raise $500 making it $650 and she calls. Hmm. Turn comes a Seven and this time, she checks, I bet $1,500, and she calls. What could she have, I wonder? The river comes a Jack giving me two pair. Nice hand, you'd think, ay? She checks and there's no way I'm betting now. I check and she shows me a pair of Eights giving her a straight. She expected me to bet! Haha!

Of course, we start with $2,000 and I just lost $3,400 to a lady who called 3/4ths her stack on an inside straight. I looked forward to putting her out, but in the meantime, here it was not 40 minutes in the tournament and already I was crippled... I only had $400! Time to steal some blinds!


Changing Gears
I changed gears so fast, I almost got whiplash! My choices were down to two: fold or raise all-in!

I go all-in with Ace-Queen from middle position with two callers and pick up 2 and 1/2 big blinds. Now I have $525.

I go all-in with pocket tens from late position and pick up the blinds. Now I have $600.

The next hand, with just three minutes to go in the level, I have King-Eight in the big blind in a pot with 3 other callers. The flop comes King-Six-Three, I push all-in, they all fold, and I pick up their blinds. Now I have $750.

Level Two
Blinds are now $50 and $100. The first hand into the second level, I have Ace-King suited from 5th position and just call. There is a raise to $250 from that same lady who called me with pocket eights, everyone folds and I raise all-in. She folds and now I have $1,150. Getting better!

A couple of rounds go by where I can't play because the cards are bad, the position is bad, or someone else is showing strength. The blinds take me down $850, and somewhere in there, I make one loose call (which then becomes raised, so I fold) making my total $750.

18 minutes into the second level, I have pocket Kings and call an all-in $600 bet from the lady in the 6th seat. Everyone else folds, she gets a Queen, Eight, Ten on the flop but her queens are no good. The turn comes another Ten, and the river Nine keeps my kings the winner! She's upset, so I get up, head over there and hug her. That hand, I picked up her stack up some blinds. Suddenly I have some breathing room with $1,600!

My table breaks up and I get moved to another one. Guess I'll have to wait to put out that lady with the Eights. Guess I have to learn how people play all over again too.

24 minutes into the second level, I have pocket Queens from 1st position, I raise to $300 and the big blind calls me, the flop comes Eight high, I push all in and she folds her Ace-King. Total now is $1975... 84 minutes into the tournament and I've clawed my way back to even!

The blinds continue to eat my stack when I call with Nine-Ten from the little blind in a pot with 3 callers. The flop comes Ten, Six, Two and I bet $500 and they all fold. $1,950... back (again) to even.

Third Level
Blinds are $100 and $200 and they keep eating my stack. 12 minutes to go in the third level, I have pocket Kings in first position, I raise to $400, everyone folds, the big blind calls me with pocket deuces. The flop is Jack-Eight-Six, I push all-in and she folds. I sit through my blinds and now am still treading water with $2,200.

I also got moved to another table!

Fourth Level
Now there is a $25 ante from each player along with a $100 and $200 blind. This means there is $550 in the pot before any betting, making it more worthwhile to try to steal the blinds (and antes). Of course, you have to pick your spots wisely, and the trouble with playing with a lot of good players, is the same spot that is good for you to steal is also good for them, so often times, when the time is right, someone else beats you to the punch. Back to the game...

5 minutes into the fourth level, I have pocket Sevens and call. The flop comes Ten, Five, Two, she bets $500 from the small blind. I stare her down, figure her for a Ten, and fold. She shows me Ace-Ten. Phew! I'm down to $1,600.

With $1,300 left, I get moved to yet another table.

As soon as I get there, I'm dealt King-Jack hearts in the big blind, get raised by the 3rd seat and call. The flop comes Jack, Nine, Five. I push all in and she calls! She's got my Jacks beat with her pocket Queens, but I get a King on the river and now have $2,600!

The very next hand I get Ace-Queen and call from the little blind. Five other people call too. The flop comes Ace, Jack, Nine and a lady in front of me bets $600. She's got massive amounts of chips... like $30,000 at least... and I try to figure out what she's got. I finally conclude she's just got an Ace, raise all-in, and she calls me with Ace-Eight. The board pairs my Queen and now I have $6,525 with 26 minutes remaining in the fourth level.

Finally... 3 and 1/2 hours into the tournament, in just two hands, starting with just $1,300, I get above the starting stack! Yay!

10 minutes later, I limp with pocket Kings and 4 other players call. Oops. The flop is King, Queen, Ten. A lady across the board bets $1,000 and I raise all-in. She calls with King-Ten, but her two pair is utterly dominated by my trips. She's drawing dead to win with only a runner-runner straight chance to split the pot. I put her out and am up to $11,000 with 12 minutes left in this level! At this point, I'm more than twice the chip average of $5,200.

(She was devastated... who wouldn't be? I rushed over and hugged her too.)

Level Five
Blinds are $150 and $300 with a $25 ante. It's almost been an hour since I played a hand! Finally, with 12 minutes remaining in the level, I get King-Queen in a six-handed pot. The flop comes with a King, I bet $1,500 (the pot) and everyone folds. The chips help make up for the blinds and antes I've lost.

Level Six
Blinds are $200 and $400 with a $50 ante. I go the entire level without playing one hand when on the last hand before dinner break I'm dealt pocket Queens. I call and it's just me and the blinds. The flop comes Jack, Seven, Seven. The little blind checks, the big blind- let's call her ATL cause she looked like she came from there- bets $800. I put her on a Jack... very, very rarely do people bet trips on the flop. My queens are good, I reckon, so I call and the little blind folds. Turn is a Six, she bets $700, I call; I want her to keep betting. River is a Three, she bets $500, I call. I don't raise, cause I figure she won't call and she might, maybe, have a Seven. She shows Jack-Five and now at dinner time, I'm up to $12,675!

Level Seven
Here the blinds are $300 and $600 with a $100 ante. Preflop, then, there is $1,900 in the pot! That's the initial starting stack!

The table really tightened up after lunch and the players were dropping much more slowly now. We were down to around 170 players at this point, or just 70 to go until the money. The effect of the tight play was to change the game into one of stealing blinds. We hardly saw a flop; every hand was raised preflop and taken down. As a result of this, the blinds went around the table faster, and the $100 antes really started to take their toll. Here's the effect of not getting playable cards during this portion of the tournament.

About 30 minutes into the seventh level, Miss ATL and I get into it again. She was still sore with me for beating her Jack-Five with my pocket queens. I tried to bluff her earlier (semi-bluff) but she put in a big raise, so she got back a few chips, but she still had no love for me.

Unfortunately for her, I had pocket Queens when she got Ace-King. She raised a lot preflop and I re-raised all in. She called, and the flop was Nine-high. The board paired and stayed low and I doubled up through her to get my highest yet chip count, $14,350, seven and 1/2 hours into the tourney!

It was at this point I had to make a decision: go for the money or go for the final table. The former mean a very conservative strategy where I basically fold my way into the money, letting the other players bust out until everyone is in the money. My calculations indicated this plan could work... but it would be close. Going for the final table was risky... very risky, considering I had now invested eight hours of time into this thing. Going home empty handed would be very hard to take.

If I went for the money, I would most likely have no chance to finish higher than the first or second payouts. As these were practically the same (in fact, one had to get into the 3-4% before the payouts increased significantly) I opted to go for the money. $2,000 for the bottom of the payout was $2,000 more than I had in my purse!

Level Eight
The blinds are now $400 and $800 with $100 antes. I didn't get much opportunity to play at all! Finally the end of the level comes, but and the effect on my chip stack was brutal. (The small stack of black to the left are for my blinds about to hit me.)


Level Nine
The blinds are $500 and $1000 with $100 antes. Ouch! Now that we were down to around 120 players and only the top 100 cashing, I was reluctant to play with anything but a premium hand.

104 players left... 5 to the money! The blinds are coming fast and my chip stack is quickly vanishing!

At this point in the tournament, 1/2 way into the ninth level, I really irritateted some players at the table. You see, the lady to my left had massive amounts of chips. I had pocket Fives in the little blind and everyone folded to me. I was faced with a very, very tough decision! If I called, she would raise me all-in with anything. If I raised all-in, she would call with anything. (This is basic tournament strategy and this girl was a good player.) She's probably got two cards higher than a Five which means at best I'm a 54% favorite to win. In other words, it's a coin flip for my tournament life with just 5 places to go until the money, but if I won, I'd definitely make the money.

Or, I could just fold my Fives and pray that 5 more people would not have the same patience and bust out. I only had enough money to see another 20 hands... it was going to be very close.

So I think about it. And I think some more. And some more. Finally, the lady to my right throws a hissy fit and calls the floor over to call time on me. Giggle. I don't care. I decided to fold long ago, but with that decision meant stalling as long as I could. I wasn't hurting the table or costing them money by this tactic, but it really pissed off a few ladies. Oh well. When they start clocking me, I just let them count... until they declare I must fold, then I fold. Two people went out during that time! ;) Just like internet poker.

I've got enough money for 10 hands left with 102 players left.


I'm about to go through the blinds when we start hand-for-hand mode. Great! This saves me from having to post my blinds because each table only starts the next hand after all tables finish the current hand. This is to counteract people doing what I had done earlier and also for some tables (like mine) that deal more hands per hour (= more money in antes and blinds) than other tables. It's just fair when the field is one person away from everyone being in the money.

The blinds go through me. I'm down to $2,500 when the annoucer booms, "Congratulations, ladies, you're all in the money!" Yay! The whole room applauds. For a second, I felt awful for the girl who just got put out before, but then I celebrate. Yay!

Next hand, I'm dealt pocket Nines on the button and the lady in first position raises to $3,500. I call all-in, knowing she's got to overs on me and that I'm only a 54% favorite to win. Now I'll gamble! :)

She turned a King and with 2 minutes remaining in the Nineth level, my tournament ended. I was escorted to the payout counter where I was given a voucher to claim the $1,949 prize for 96th place.

Look for me on the prizes and payouts list!

Afterthoughts
96th place. Maybe it doesn't sound all that impressive all by itself, but this is the World Championship event for ladies... I finished in the top 8%... yeah, I wish my coinflip (99 versus AK) went my way and I could have made it past the first day... but I didn't have the kind of luck which gave you silly stacks of checks and a final table finish. Maybe I didn't put myself in enough situations to be lucky like that, but I know for a fact I avoided a plethera of ones that would have had me hit the door with nuttin' but a bad taste in my mouth! Pocket Queens beat by Eights... Pocket Jacks beat by AQ... most players would have been sent home packin' as those hands played out, but I was able to accurately read the situation and bail as soon as I was beat.

In fact... outside those three hands, I can only remember losing one other hand, and that was just $1000 to Miss ATL on a semi-bluff when I folded to her raise. I think I only lost one showdown (the hand that crippled me)! I took one bad beat, I gave one bad beat when I two paired pocket Queens.

Plus, it was a tough starting table; there were two well-known pros there. Normally, you'd expect to see one person from each starting table to make the money... I saw at least three others from my table still in the tournament when we reached the money!

So... my first WSOP bracelet event and I finish in the money... yeah, I'm okay with that!

I met some people there who made a living playing in tournaments. They were sponsored to play, (like I was for this one) and they split the payouts with their sponsors (like I'll do with mine). That, to me, seems the opportunity. I mean, if you keep putting yourself in situations to win millions of dollars with good odds... eventually, you win!

A girl can dream, can't she?

The Moment Of Truth Arrives

Tomorrow is the big day!

The reason why I moved out here.

The Opportunity... the test... the dream.

The lesson from my last ladies only tournament is clear: luck must be on our side!

In the main event, each player starts with $20,000 chips. Here, we start with $2,000... 1/10th the amount, yet the structure is the same. What's that mean? The same as it did in Louisville... if we get a good run of best cards, we can position ourselves to make skill a factor.

With the blinds so high compared to the initial chip stack, there's not much room to play anything but premium hands outside the blinds, so for the first day anyway, the strategy is pretty simple: play great cards or fold. There will be no slow-playing; no time for tricks.

Double up, then triple up, the double up again, and do it one more time. That's where I want to be at the end of day one.

With apologies to Tony, Frank, Dean, Bobby... luck be a tranny-lover tomorrow!