I’m starting this writing late. It’s not fun to begin these entries with complaints, but complaints (and consternations to a greater extent) get my juices flowing. I guess no matter how much I pretend to have grown as a person and moved beyond complaining to all who possess ears, my senseless writings betray (in my slightly inebriated state, written as “portray”) my best intentions and allow my true self to (proverbially) shine through. Speaking of complaints, this may be an especially painful entry as my stomach is performing tricks that I don’t remember teaching it.

The first session of the class was more informative if no less boring than my previous continuing education classes. They provided snacks during the breaks. One of the snacks was gourmet jelly beans. I don’t remember these beans from when I was growing up. The beans were all different colors, some with speckles and some solid colors. The colors and patterns represented the individual flavor of the beans. There was popcorn and chocolate and apples and various wonderful tastes, each more unexpected than the last. Don’t tell anybody, but I had more than my fair share of jelly beans.

After the class I met some friends from my old firm for dinner and drinks at a restaurant close to my hotel. The food was good but left me a bit sick. I’m not sure if the food was too fatty or if I ate too much of it or if there was something wrong with it, but I’m happy to be back in the hotel room where I can recover in peace. My friends are doing great. It was nice to see them again. They’re all older and more experienced but generally the same people as when I left them in NYC. They kept asking me when I planned to return to NYC. It’s a very good question for which I don’t have an answer yet. As to what I’ve turned into after my five years away from NYC, they didn’t comment.

I did have plans to write something story-like today. I obviously failed. What follows is more consternations and senseless musings. Shocking and surprising, I know.

Did I mention I’m slightly drunk? Okay, I’m not drunk. I only had one beer. But with my stomach feeling the way it does and the late hour, I’m thinking I may not have enough to go on tonight. Okay, so I’m being a drama queen. I won’t post this until tomorrow but I’ll obviously finish it tonight as I always do (even if it turns out to be nothing more than complaints—which is not far from what happened).

I have the choice between buying overpriced internet at the hotel for $15 or overpriced wi-fi at the conference for $9. I bought the hotel’s internet yesterday, which meant I missed out on possibly working and browsing the magical interwebs during the class. I won’t miss the same opportunity tomorrow. For the price that people pay for these courses, the wi-fi should be free. I guess the same could be said about the hotel internet. Any way people find to make a dollar, they make that dollar. Isn’t America wonderful? Although, for my money, I think Asia is more entrepreneurial than the US. From the constant negotiations in the shops to the street vendors and crowded streets covered in neon signs, Asia feels like capitalism overdone. Except for a few holdouts (including NYC), the US feels like it is one big overstocked strip mall.

I’m multitasking. I’m writing this while playing poker in the other window. I’m a terrible poker player and the computer is winning. I won’t be quitting my day job to play professionally. I don’t know how those people do it. I can’t imagine playing poker all night. I’d fall asleep before I won any money. I guess different people are built different ways. I’m built more skinny and weak and unable to play poker or at least able to win money at poker. Now if we talked video games that might be a different story. It beat me again, by the way, the poker computer. But back to video games. My video game night—which I haven’t gotten around to reporting on—went well. Steven and his brother and I played Champions of Norrath for many hours and ate authentic Brooklyn pizza. All in all, a great way to spend an evening of my NYC visit.

That was Doolies on the phone. She called to check in. She’s finalizing our wedding photos today, and she needed my help to choose the photo album and the two enlarged photos. With the full-day wedding photo shoot and the humongous oversized photo album, Taiwan has the wedding industry down to a science (will the cliches ever stop?). I won’t say where that down is, however.

I’m still not doing well in poker. I’m beginning to think the beer had a larger effect on me than I first thought. My judgment seems to be off. I’m growing tired. I stayed up too late last night watching television. I’m such an addict. Give me the choice between watching television and sleeping, and I’ll choose television every time. I’m like the chimpanzees they tested cocaine on: they choose cocaine over being with other chimps and eating food—going as far as starving to death instead of choosing food over the drugs.

I think that’s one of the reasons my last jetlag was so terrible. I had an entire two seasons of “The Wire” to watch, and by staying up all night, I was able to whip through the seasons. That’s only partly true, of course. The jetlag gave me the excuse to turn it on. My addiction kept me up beyond when I was tired and could have gone to sleep. Still, it’s bad either way.

My poker game is getting worse. I should give up and finish writing and go to sleep. Doolies will probably call back, so maybe I should continue playing, or, better yet, finish my words and turn on the television and play poker. That would be excellent. Man, this should not count as meeting my Goal. It feels too damn cheesy and terrible.

Wow. Even as I wrote the last paragraph I managed to win a game. It’s strange to play the last hand of the match and not realize you have the winning cards until the music plays. Yes, I’m that bad. But think how much worse the computer must be (or how much worse it pretends to be—I’m sure like in chess, a well-programmed computer would stomp a human player every time).