Paris, France
After I shipped that 38k I felt really sick. This seems to happen quite a bit after a huge score. I always justified it with how mentally exhausting it is (at least for me) to finish off a tournament. Every hand can be a belabored process. I get so lost in the tournament progression, ICM, every hand I've ever played with a guy...its a lot. I love it but it exhausts me.
I was a real asshole on the way to Paris which just isn't me. Naty and I got into a huge fight, for no reason. I can't really say I had a point. I was just emotional and nutty when I didn't need to be. I didn't know what was with me. I felt slow. I felt in slow motion the next day. I started the fight again, then finally just went outside and listened to my iPhone for an hour while walking around Paris. The cold and Viro helped me chill. It's hard being completely sober, after the kind of person I was, but you can't take away cold air. It does something for my Alaskan genetics, I don't know why. It cools me down.
I came back and told Naty, "let's start today over." We went to lunch and finally stopped being idiots, err...I stopped being an idiot. I went and got a really good haircut and Naty redid her color and everything. I still felt sick, but I was going to put my best foot forward. I got the idea to buy some champagne to celebrate us coming to Paris, but coming home I just collapsed. I couldn't sit up and drink a small glass if my life depended on it. I felt like shit. I wanted to just sleep 12 hours, or maybe die.
Naty finally decided enough was enough and did an acupuncture treatment on me. I kind of let her do it because she's my girlfriend, but seriously, what in the world could putting a needle in my foot do for my stomach? I can see blood vessels. I don't see "energy channels." I see dumb people getting their wallets lighter.
Then she put more than one. She put more than a few. I couldn't move. She told me sternly, "don't move." The needles were deep in the muscles, in my arms, my chest, my ankles. She poured through her book and took her time with each one. She'd pinch, prod, and go "does this hurt? How about this?"
Then it got creepy. She pulls up one foot, "if your stomach is having problems this shouldn't hurt." She pinched hard. Just a twinge. Then she pulls up another, "this should hurt like hell." Same technique. Same part of the foot. There should be no difference, logically.
So why was I writhing in agony?
I looked for the magician's trick. "Do it again," I barked. You can't hustle a hustler.
She nodded, obviously used to the skepticism, opening her hand so I could see her using the same grip. Again, the foot where she said nothing would happen, nothing. She invited me to do it myself. Nothing. Then the other foot.
Searing searing pain. Her look, 'I know what I'm doing now shut up.'
I felt like there was led in my stomach. My eyes barely wanted to stay open. I just wanted the day to end.
She left everything in me for about an hour, talking to me the whole time.
Then she took everything out and I got up, ready to fake a "oh thank you honey, I think I feel better."
Then I felt my stomach. The led was gone. I moved more. Everything was gone. The heaviness, the tiredness. I thought I was fooling myself. I thought I just felt good from laying down and being nailed to the bed for an hour. Then I surprised myself, "you feel like drinking that bottle now?"
We found an ancient balcony outside of our window. Nobody else in our building has a balcony. We crawled out of our window and took some chairs. It was freezing but you could see over the rooftops of a thousand buildings, smokestacks in the distance, old churches, clock towers, dusk. It looked beautiful. We wrapped up warm and talked forever, going through a lot of the bottle. I felt...amazing. I was actually interesting. I was so happy to just talk and be myself. I wasn't gurgling my answers and rolling over.
I'm a total believer now. I've felt great for days.
The next day we checked out the Eiffel Tower and went shopping around here. The Eiffel Tower was really cool, although the lines got old and it was raining. The view was unbelievable, but I'm afraid I'm going to kill Naty. This girl had never taken an airplane before she met me, and now I threw her right in the middle of Paris in winter. It's FREEZING for me, and I'm Aleut.
Shopping here is alright, but Paris being the best place to shop is just garbage. If you love seeing shop after shop of delusional designers trying to cop you shit for 30x what it's worth than be my guest, this place is for you. Not that you can't get everything you want, but you have to sift through a lot of crap.
Wow, I wrote this whole thing about how the Camorra sells shit here, and how clothes are sold, and how everyone fucks everyone, and it ends with awesome deals. Then Paris internet sucked. Ugh.
Oh yeah, went to a crap bar and chilled with the worst indie rockers in the world. Naty started singing with the main guitarist, and I just drank beer and laughed at the absurdity of my life.
***
Finishing this in Berlin now.
Naty and I had a good time just relaxing in Paris. We watched a lot of movies. We watched Hannibal Rising. Seriously, whoever played kid Hannibal was so good. He was just sick. Plot was kind of standard and depressing for a Thomas Harris joint. Main kid reminded me of Nathanael in a weird way.
One time we tried to go out. I looked up good clubs and we went to this boat on the Seine River. It was pouring rain. Waiting in line in a harbor at midnight was something I didn't really enjoy. I'm not a fisherman anymore, there's a reason you don't hang out there during a storm. It's COLD. And wet. And miserable.
Naty and I toughed it out. The bouncer was a cool cat, and kicked out this guy I felt real uncomfortable around. Was a total gentlemen while this clown went on, going on about his race and shit, because you know pissing off the 7 foot ripped Nigerian guy when you're a fat ass four-eyed Frenchie is a winning bet. We got into the place and thought we were in the wrong place. It was a rasta joint. Naty was laughing, we'd come all the way from Costa Rica and came on Rasta night, which is as common as rice and beans in Costa Rica. We had a couple 10 euro drinks (god I hate Europa) and just vibed for a bit. I had this gnarly huuuuuge black dude post up two feet front of me and look my girlfriend up and down for like half an hour. Back up kiiid skinny white boy can flip the schitz.
I say "black" because I'm painting a picture. Notice how I refer to myself as "white."
The vibe was real cool. Nobody disrespected me or my girl, everyone was pretty chill. It's cool to see Turks, whites, black, everyone just chilling. There's so much racism in Europe it's nice to see people just get along. Just when people are high they gaze a little long and it's a little weird. But yeah, I figured I caught the bar on a weird night. On the way out Naty asked me to check with the barkeep if we were at the right bar, and I found out I was, but there was a different club downstairs. We headed down the steps, the boat tilting back and forth the whole way, and I swear I saw my high school friend Cooper in a different body. Guy was throwing it down, but every time his techno was about to take off he'd start scratching. I love it but French are a fickle crowd. You need great electronica to get anyone moving, and this guy kept breaking the flow. I had a few screw drivers but Naty just drank water. I dug the place but it was hard to get into it. We danced for a few hours then bailed.
So yeah my old German roommate I called "Naty" and now my girlfriend I call "Naty." Weird.
Our last day in Paris was great. Naty and I went to Notre Dame, paid our respects, and got some great pictures of a really cool cathedral. They let us in free, which was nice. I always want to go "asshole hypocrite" when I go into a nice church in Ireland and they want 20 euros per person.
We got some crepes, I got a cappuccino (god they don't make you the same in Central America), and we went ice skating in front of some huge French building. I actually didn't fall down which was a shock. We grabbed a cab and got a last minute flight to Berlin.
Only thing I didn't dig here was the racism. My girlfriend looking Middle Eastern-ish doesn't really help. I had a Turkish guy keep braking a foot away from me and glaring at me in the ice rink, spraying me with snow (wow you're cool dude). Walking through Paris I had some Turkish guy go in front of his friends and separate Naty and I, saying something about me being confused, I'm with the wrong girl, or some shit. He tried to hug Naty, and I just glared, and he backed up. Naty said "I'm going to kick you in your balls." Him and his weak ass friends parted like I was Moses. Faggots.
Odd, no one says anythinjg after a few seconds. Kind of sad when I'm half your weight, you're five deep, and you're still scared.
I just walk on. I wouldn't care if Naty was blue like the girl from Avatar. These kids are just jealous, too much alcohol and hate in them, I have nothing but pity. Need to find God and a damn treadmill.
All right, I need to get a few good hours of sleep before this EPT.
