We are still in the desert.
Uncharacteristically I'm up at 3 a.m., using the time to take on any fish trying to burn off Valentine's Day, at 'Stars, Full Tilt and, Bocat.
I've seen my share of surprises, my King-high flush with KK turn to dust with a gutshot wheel straight flush with 43o. Or my set of tens-turned-boat lose to a KK overboat on the river. Variance for you.
I think I'm up late because of the also-uncharacteristic full nights' sleep I received the night before, plus a cocoon-induced 3-hour afternoon nap (it's been pretty cold outside) that forced me to run in the evening. My face felt numb and my hands were cold, despite the lightweight armor that Nike knows how to make.
I caught bits and pieces of average movies. Something with Debra Messing and Dermot Mulroney. The start of King Kong, which was pretty boring, despite Jack Black and Naomi Watts (spectacular blue eyes like pearls) in it. The end of Jarhead.
More and more I'm liking the new place. This evening I walked across the intersection to Moe's and Joe's for a take-out burger, where they were having trivia, while I read parts of Robert Baer's See No Evil. (What person gets the most valentines on Valentine's Day? Teachers. What does QVC stand for? Quality. Value. Convenience).
This apartment is so QVC.