With the downpours of the last few days we found a surprise when we went down into the basement to clean out the remaining boxes. The basement was flooded. The sump pump didn’t work. The boxes had gotten wet in an almost identical scenario previously and had grown mold. Now they weren’t just moldy, they were wet and moldy. Most of the boxes contained newsprint wrapped dishes and glasses. We should have been wearing haz mat suits for the clean up we had to do this morning.

Also, an interesting little factoid that I learned this morning: we are lugging dishes around from my father’s mother, my mother’s mother, My stepfather’s mother, my mother and my stepfather’s first wife.

I remember packing dishes from my grandmother’s house when she died. China lugged from Nona’s house, wrapped and packed, lugged downstairs, lugged upstairs soggy and moldy, unpeeled, re-wrapped, packed in boxes and lugged into the new/old house garage to be gone through at a later date. Dishes are heavy! I haven’t even mentioned the china cabinet yet.

I do have to put in a positive here. She did give away her mother’s set to the nice neighbor next door.

As we were in the middle of all this I stopped looked at my mother and said, “You gave me life and I am forever grateful, but now… we’re even.”

Posted by request:

Cindy,

This crush on you that I’ve developed is large. So large that it doesn’t seem quite fair to call it a crush. But there are many things I don’t know about you… important things, so I’ll call it a crush. You may be completely aware of this already, I feel pretty transparent, but for a number of reasons I’ve decided to tell you about it. I know interpersonal emotions aren’t your strong suit, and I’m sorry to do this to you, but I need you to know my feelings. This is hard for me, and I’m not at all sure that it’s the right thing to do. I feel very exposed, but I trust you. Though I fully expect some pain, I think you’ll leave me feeling good about myself. You always do.

I don’t feel like I’ll ever meet anyone remotely like you again, that’s part of what makes this seem so important. Your thoughtfulness, playfulness, intelligence and generosity are disarming. There can’t be many out there with your insight who also like to play with blocks! You’re one of a kind and I’m so drawn to you. Every single day, things that you wrote or said will come randomly into my head and cause me to involuntarily smile or start laughing. I’ve never experienced that to this degree before.

I was about to say that this isn’t the way I’d normally handle something like this, but how would I know? This is not a situation I’ve been in. I don’t really know you, but the things I do know make me want to know everything else. You don’t really know me, and I feel you’ve yet to see the better parts. I’ve been so nervous but I think that getting this out, though terrifying right now, will help me relax and be myself in the future.

We live in very different worlds. We deal with emotions in very different ways. Most of the time I think these differences are too great for you to be interested in me as anything more than a friend. But sometimes I wonder if it is possible that our differences would collide in a beautiful way.

I hope you can be flattered by all of this, and not feel too much pressure. No matter what your feelings toward me, you have all of my respect and I will always do my best to be a good friend to you. I don’t need much from you right now, but if you’re certain that I could never be more than a friend, I need to know that. If you’re not sure, that’s all I need to know, too. I’m not asking you to go into your feelings to any greater depth than that unless you want to.

Having these emotions running rampant through my head (heart) has been keeping me up at night. I’m trusting myself that this means they should be let out. I hope I’m doing the right thing, but I guess it doesn’t matter. I will hit the send button or I won’t. Either way, you will be an amazing person and I’ll consider myself lucky to know you. We’ll both be okay, I’m sure.

Thank you for everything. I’m glad there’s at least one person like you out there.

Love,
Andy

Todd is here. Todd is Andy’s friend from Colorado. He inspired me to post some of the emails that Andy wrote me about the beginnings of his gambling career.

This was probably about two years after I quit that job in Boulder to play poker full time. My friend Todd had just graduated from CU (Boulder) and was hoping to become a professional poker player. I was very focused on my
game at the time and had been studying and putting a lot of thought into the finer points, especially “”tells”" (those body language giveaways that get soooo much play in the movies, but actually represent a very small portion of the profit in real life).

Todd had friends in Phoenix and wanted to drive down there for New Year’s Eve. We hit the road, planning to ring in the new year and play cards at Fort McDowell, which at the time was renowned for good action. When we hit Albuquerque, NM, there were billboards for Sandia Casino. A casino in New Mexico? We had no idea. Naturally, we pulled off the highway to check it out. The casino was in a tent! It looked like a huge one of those indoor tennis courts. Or are those ice skating rinks? Whatever it looked like wasn’t a casino, at any rate. To our further amazement there was a poker room in the tent, er, casino. I decided to play 10-20 holdem which, at the time, was a step up in limit for me. Todd joined me. We were both doing well and I was feeling very focused. As the night dragged on, the game got smaller. Eventually it was just Todd, some random guy, and me. I was up about $500.

The fewer opponents you have in a poker game, the less mathematical, and the more mental the game becomes. Very shorthanded games are also a situation in which tells can be very valuable. I was feeling very ready for this situation. After several hands against this guy, I picked up a tell too good to be true. It was 100% reliable. As the cards turned, he would glance quickly away if he liked his hand, or stare at the board (the community cards) if he did not. It was pretty quick and subtle, but unmistakable once you were looking for it. I felt like I was in a gambling movie. I wasn’t even paying attention to my cards, but just watching the guy. There was no way he could win. When he went to the bathroom, I tipped Todd onto the tell. When they guy finally gave up, I was up over $2000 and Todd almost $1000. This was a whole lot of money to us at the time. In retrospect I feel pretty bad for the guy, but at the time I felt like a superstar. I was sure I would make a million dollars playing poker in no time.

To this day I’ve never picked up a tell even remotely as reliable as that one. It was fun while it lasted.

On to Phoenix. We stayed with his friend Ajay and celebrated New Year’s Eve downtown. I saw a really great 80s cover band called Boogie Nights. Things were going so well Todd and I decided to hop a flight to Vegas.

I can’t for the life of me remember why we decided to stay at the MGM Grand. In theory, it was way too expensive for us and the limits were too large for any hope of getting comped. We got in at 2am, but our rooms wouldn’t be ready till noon. We were too tired for poker so we decided to goof around at blackjack. $25 was the minimum bet to get rated for comps. This was way too big for us, but we decided to give it a try with a couple hundred anyway. Neither of us knew how to count cards at the time, We were just gambling. The dealer must have busted 90% of his hands. In no time we were up over $500 each. I had never played craps before, and decided to give it a go. It’s not a beatable game, but at this point we were just having fun. Another $1000 each in less than an hour! Cashing out I was approached by a prostitute for the first and only time in my life (and no, of course, I didn’t). This was feeling more like a movie all the time.

We stayed up the whole night, the next day, and the next night. Table after table after table. We never lost. Sometime after I guess around 36 hours of nonstop gambling, I had to sleep. Todd opted to continue. I slept for over twelve hours and awoke to find that Todd hadn’t even been to the room yet. Yikes!

I found him at a blackjack table. After over 48 hours of drinking and gambling Todd had such an odor surrounding him, I’m surprised they didn’t refuse to deal him cards. As I watched, Todd reached the goal he had set, $10,000 up. As he stood up he knocked his drink towards his lap. It teetered on edge, seemed to balance there for a few moments, and then settled back onto the felt. A tired looking old man, the only other occupant of the table, was watching everything. He shook his head and grumbled “When you’re running good, you’re running good.”

Over the next couple day we toned it down a bit but continued to win at a more modest pace. I had one more amazing session at a craps table. A tiny lady in horn rimmed glassed who may or may not have been the freaky woman from the Poltergeist movies was having a phenomenal roll. She had been rolling for over 30 minutes (this is very long, if you’re not familiar with craps) and everyone at the table was cleaning up. An enormous black man in a suit was next to me and making all the same bets that I was. At times we would exchange knowing glances. The Poltergeist lady threw the dice and one of them ricocheted off a stack of chips, out of the table and on to the floor. Twelve people yell “SAME DICE!” in unison, but the man in the suit looks at me and says, in an incredibly deep voice, “It’s all over now, baby.”

The next roll: Seven Out (This is a bad thing, if you’re not familiar with craps).
Twelve people cash out in unison.

What was most remarkable to me about this trip wasn’t the amount of luck I had, which was truly extraordinary, but how often it felt scripted. I kept expecting to see the cameras, or at least to wake up. This was the Las Vegas of Hollywood. I’ve been back many times, but I’ve never seen that Vegas again. Not even close.

——————————————————————————–

I feel bad when I come downstairs in the morning and Andy has my website open, hoping that I’ve written something interesting about our life, and there’s nothing. It’s not that I don’t have things to write about, I just haven’t.

I am tired. I am trying to think of some clever and funny things to tell you about why I am tired, but I’m not coming up with anything….because…..I’m tired. Oh wait, wait, wait…..I figured out something clever and funny….I stayed up really late. I got up really early. Now I’m really tired.

How’s that?

On with the diary…..

Sun Nov. 20, 1983
Dear Diary,
I didn’t do much today except sit around Hollie’s house until 5:30 and then I came home and watched a movie: The Day After. It was pretty scary. It was about what would happen in a nuclear war. Tomorrow, I’m going to put matches, candles, etc. in the basement, just in case.

(I’m hoping the “etc.” I was talking about was food. I still have the desire to stock the basement full of rations. When the whole Anthrax thing happened, I bought two basic survival videos and a FM 21-76 Army Field Manual from Amazon. I haven’t watched the videos, but the field manual is amazing. It tells you how to survive anywhere with nothing. I especially liked the traps and weapons section.)

(another side note to the side note: I just went into my bathroom which is in flux. I am cleaning out all of the closets and putting things into organized plastic containers. Two things in an almost empty drawer caught my eye. One was a pair of long fake eyelashes with pink tips that I bought on my first trip to Austin. Krysti and I had girly day and had makeovers at the MAC makeup counter of a department store whose name I cannot recall. I bought these huge spidery monstrosities in the name of glam. I wore them out that night and recall having many drinks and telling a lot of people that it felt like my eyelids were wearing little hats.

The second thing that caught my eye was a dried jumbo shrimp tail in the bottom of said drawer. I picked it up with my thumb and forefinger, and held it to my scquinched up eyes. I would really like to know, who exactly was eating a jumbo shrimp in my bathroom.)

and now, instead of getting back to Diary Cindigo, I’m going to post some pictures.

….little Cindigo continues on her journey through adolescent hell.

Tue. Nov. 8, 1983
Dear Diary,
Today I was sick, at least that’s what my mom thought, so she let me stay home. Since I was in bed when she got home, she thinks I’m really, really sick and she said I might stay home tomorrow. Guess what, this Saturday night, I might be able to stay at Hollie’s house because Joan’s boyfriend Rex moved out. Yeah!

P.S. I still hate school.

(So crafty….even then. I had forgotten, but my mom wouldn’t let me stay at Hollie’s because one of her Aunt’s boyfriends lived there for a while.)

Tue. Nov. 15, 1983
Dear Diary,
I didn’t write over the weekend because I forgot. I didn’t go to school today. No one understands what it’s like there. Or they do understand, and they don’t care. The only good thing about school is Patrick and Vince. Patrick is one of my good friends, and I know Vince won’t even look at me. What a babe!

(I still think they knew and were too self absorbed to notice. This may explain the chip on my shoulder towards any type of authority figures. I vaguely recall Vince, but I cannot confirm or deny if he actually was a “babe” or not. At that time, I’m sure Mr. X was a babe, I was just too young and stupid to truly appreciate his “babeness”. So, baby, if your reading this, I’m so sorry. I know it hurts you for me to talk about other men in such a way, but, just know, I think you are a total babe. If you want, I’m sure I can hunt Vince down and we can schedule a fight after school in front of the bike racks.)

Sat. Nov. 19, 1983
Dear Diary,
Today I went to a Menudo concert, it was really fun. The guys in the group are really cute and when they were on stage, all the girls were jumping on stage trying to kiss them. It was pretty funny. We had the best seats in the house on the side of the stage. I went with Hollie and her dad.

(Hollie’s dad lived in Puerto Rico and owned a sound company. He would travel with them sometimes. Yes, I hung out with Menudo……am I cool or what. A fourteen year old Ricky Martin even. Hollie and I used to make up stories about them, and how Ray would fall in love with her and Roy would fall in love with me. In every story they would some how find us and rescue us from our pre pubescent hell and we would live happily ever after. I know I have that canary yellow folder covered with Garfield stickers somewhere at my parent’s house. Every time I go, I search, but it so far has not been located.

My apologies once again to Mr. X: Baby, it meant nothing. I swear it. I was young, I didn’t know.

When I was twelve, Hollie and I spent the summer in Puerto Rico with her dad and her missionary relatives. We saw Ozzy Ozbourne and guess who opened for him. Come on guess. You’ll never guess….Michael Bolton, no joke. At that time, he was trying his hand at the metal genre. We also went to a lot of salsa (the dance, not the chip topping) concerts, where I learned to put my hand on my belly and shake my hips like a hoochie mamma cita. Heady stuff for twelve.)

That is all for today except for two short stories from present time.

1. I had the worst partner in class last night. I have one week to graduate, and by this time, everyone knows who sucks and who doesn’t at massage. When it is time to pick partners, everyone scrambles to avoid the weaklings of the herd. I just didn’t have enough energy last night to scramble. I was partnered up with a man with belly that looked like he was pregnant and a constitution that looked like he might have a heart attack at any moment. When he was working at my head and leaning over my back, his fat belly rested on the back of my head and jammed my face into the head opening. I restrained my giggles and suffered through the hour.

2. Yesterday morning I got up and went into the kitchen, saw an open bag of dried fruit and yelled out, “Oh great, I left the bag of dried fruit open, and now it’s extra dry!” This cracked me up while I ate a toaster waffle.

and now, the continuation of the saga of Little C, the diary of an eleven year old malcontent….

Thurs. Aug 4, 1982
Dear Diary,
I just got home from seeing Annie. Great movie! I decided what I want to be when I grow up. I want to be either an actor or a dancer. I probably won’t be though. I didn’t have to go to bible school today. No offense god, but bible school is boring.

(I believe, that this diary entry is the best thing I have written to date. I want to comment on it’s greatness, but I end up just retyping the actual entry….IT’S THAT GOOD.)

Friday, Aug 5, 1982
Today we went to a spanish bible school in Chicago. It was really fun. Next year I’m going to have 2 spanish girls stay over for 2 weeks!

(spanish girls…..I just love those spanish girls)

Sat Aug. 6, 1982
Dear Diary,
Today I went to my father’s house. Nothing to do. I still haven’t found any friends yet. And I didn’t go to the dance contest because of my father’s (illegible handwriting that, try as I may, I cannot decypher).

(And still, twenty years later, boring and friendless….although, today, I *would* go to the dance contest, and nothing, I mean nothing would stop me.)

Mon. Nov. 7, 1983
Dear Diary,
Today was awful. I hate school, but does anyone care? Nooooooo!!!!!! I had to put my hair up in a pony tail, and all day I heard, “nice hair”, or “Hi Genie”. I hate everyone, and I doubt Pat will get the job at United so Hollie can’t move into her own house, and she can’t go to Thomas. Bummer!!!!!!

(Why I *had* to put my hair up in a ponytail is a mystery to me. But yes, I do recall hating everyone. Pat was my best friend’s mom. Hollie was my best friend and they lived with her two Aunt’s who did a lot of drugs and were really mean to the both of us. Thomas was the middle school that Hollie and I (and Mr. X) went to)

……and again, I tire of transcribing. I just got home from my last day working in the student clinic giving old, cranky, cheap people massages. It’s really funny to have a eighty year old woman hand me a two dollar tip, saying “there you go dear” while patting my hand. On the good days, it makes me laugh to myself. On the bad days, it makes me want to kick the walkers out from under people and say, “bitch, don’t you know who I am”. Fortunately, most of the days have been good, and on the bad, I have been able to practice restraint.

Written September 2002:

Sometimes I feel like “That Darn Cat”. At least I think that’s the movie. All I recall is a cat that is followed around on it’s daily routine….to the butcher shop, an old lady’s back porch….and other such places. Every place the cat goes is like a separate little world. I think about that sometimes when I go to my usual places and visit my usual suspects every day.

Today I went to Starbucks….one of those places I go every day, sometimes twice. They give me free coffee. Today, some sort of hispanic salsa-ey, drum/horn music was playing. Normally, I cannot stand the sound of horns. Today for some reason, my toes were tapping. I got up to the register put one hand flat on my belly, the other hand off to my side in the air and started salsa dancing. Leann, my “friend” behind the register, untied her green Starbuck’s apron and began rotating the strings in circles in time to the music. Nicole, my other “friend” who was behind the espresso machine, picked up two chrome milk pitchers and began dancing circles.

Leann at the register looked at me, said my drink name that I always drink with a question at the end, as in, “do you want this?. I nodded my head and salsa danced over to the drink pick up area.

It was five minutes out of today that made me smile a little more.

one more thing….just what the world needs…..another narsisistic quiz

name = cindigodotcom
birthday = May 15,1971
piercing = ears and nose, but the nose hole has since closed over after a short but painful jewelry drama.
tattoos = three
height = 5′3″
shoe size = 9 ( I like Rocket Dog and John Fleuevog…in case your planning a Christmas present)
hair color = red, orange, dark red and blond
length = choppy, messy below my ears and above my shoulders
pets = Murphy the dog, Toonces the cat. Urchey the sea urchin, jerky the mean fish with feet, crabby the crab and snaliy the snail. There’s shrimpy the shrimp too, but I haven’t seen him in months….I fear the worst.
last…
movie you rented = Queen of the Damned and Blade Runner
movie you bought = Roger Auckland’s Video Atlas of Human Anatomy….WOW! what a thriller.
song you listened to = Some lame ass yanni crap with birds, water and whale noise.
song that was stuck in your head = “Say My Name” — Destiny’s Child
song you’ve downloaded = “Nyja Lagif” — Sigur Ros
cd you bought = Charlie Sexton — Pictures For Pleasure
cd you listened to = Synaesthetic — Future Rythms
person you’ve called = my mom
person that’s called you = Rob
tv show you’ve watched = I don’t remember
person you were thinking of: Pam

Do……

you have a crush on someone? = wouldn’t you like to know.
you wish you could live somewhere else = YES.
you think about suicide = Not any more.
you believe in online dating = Does anyone believe in online dating? Like as in meeting people online, or just dating them on line. If meeting people online….I’m all for it.
others find you attractive = they don’t call me hotty McHot hot for nothing….oh wait, they don’t call me that do they.
you want more piercing = Yes, but they’re too painful and don’t heal well. So in theory, yes.
you want more tattoos = Yes….but not for a long time.
you drink = occasionally.
you do drugs = No.
you smoke = No.
you like cleaning = Sometimes.
you like roller coasters = not really.
you write in cursive or print = mostly cursive, but sometimes I print.
you carry a donor card = I don’t, and I should.

for or against…

long distance relationships = against
using someone = depends what they are being used for. I am for using someone to test the fluffiness of my couch. I am against using someone for a parking block.
suicide = Depends on the person or the situation. The Back Street Boys….for, the guy sitting on a bench eating a hamburger….against.
killing people = I am for killing some people, against killing others. This determination is made solely on the amount of sugar I have consumed on any given day.
teenage smoking = I would never smoke a teenager.
doing drugs = I’m not against anything anyone wants to do to themselves.
premarital sex = against!!!!!! and that is why I remain a virgin.
driving drunk = How drunk and where are you driving?
gay/lesbian relationships = Yes, all gays and lesbians should pretend they are straight and live a life of quiet desperation like the rest of us.
soap operas = neutral, unless they are Spanish, then I am for them.
favorite…
food = sushi
song = anything by Yanni, or anything that includes bird, whale, or the sound of rushing water.
thing to do = read and write…..no arithmetic……don’t like the math…it hurts my little head.
thing to talk about = Well, there’s me, of course. What I’m doing. What I like. What I’m thinking. But then there’s always you, I like to talk about you too.
sports = midget tossing.
drinks = water on a daily basis….if were talking about *drinks* usually gin and tonic.
clothes = pair of black Capri cotton jersey pants things with a pink drawstring and pink stitching down the side worn with either a black t-shirt, my pink fake-o girls baseball team t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and a cut in the neck held together with safety pins or my really old, small pink iron-on Debby Harry t-shirt.
movies = so many….too many
band = Le Tigre….but how can I really pick.
holiday = none
car = anything that flies

have you…

ever cried over a girl = Yes.
ever cried over a boy = Yes.
ever lied to someone = No….oh wait, that’s a lie….Yes.
ever been in a fist fight = Yes.
ever been arrested = No.

what…

shampoo do you use = Bumble and Bumble
cologne = Happy by Clinique
shoes do you wear = at the moment I am wearing black socks with white toes.
are you scared of = Losing my mind
of times I have been in love? = One and a half
of times I have had my heart broken? = a million, but cut completely in half…twice.
of hearts I have broken? = I’m sure thousands….hundreds???? dozens??? some???? a couple????
of boys I have kissed? = eight….but I’m sure that isn’t right.
of girls I have kissed? = Three.
of men I’ve slept with? = How could I have slept with anyone if I’m still a virgin….silly?
of girls I’ve slept with? = Like *slept* as in, I’m sleeping, goodnight, REM type thing? No????…..hmmmm. I’m not sure as to what the official definition of *sleep* with is, so I’ll just skip this question.
of continents I have lived in? = One….two if you count Cindimania
of drugs taken illegally? = six
of people I would classify as true, could trust with my life type of people? = zero.
of people I consider my enemies? = I am my only enemy.
of people from high school that I stayed in contact with? = one…no wait…two.
of cd’s that I own? = I have no idea. But I left a huge folio of them at my last job and never went back to get them.
of times my name has appeared in the newspaper? = millions….cindigo dot com is an international phenomena.
of scars on my body? = At least eight
of things in my past that I regret? = None.