NOT ABOUT GIOCONDA

My brother-in- law knows a guy who plays poker for a living.

This particular guy goes to local card clubs, that's his job- a professional poker player.

There is this guy at the Santa Anita Track named Jimmy the Hat, his job- bets on horse races- that's his job. One day a few years back he made over a million dollars in one day...

My question- how do you get good at this shit?

I have never understand how a person is able to actually make a living off games of chance.

Whatever it takes, I don't seem to have it. I have studied the racing forms, used tip sheets, I even read "Horse Racing for Dummies"- and it has been overwhelmingly in effective in regard to my ability to pick a winner.

I have read books about craps, poker, black jack- even slots- yes, I read a book about slots- and my abilities have not improved nor has my fundamental understanding of any of those games grown.

How do you change the cards you are dealt? The cards we are dealt. I think about that a lot actually, how one person is born into poverty, or more interesting one of the faction of the population born in wealth. That actually what I think about, what it would be like to have been born into great wealth.

Maybe I would have been a drug addict, or a neuro surgeon, who knows. I would like to think I would embrace any opportunity being the daughter of JFK would bring, yet the reality is I could certainly end up being the one who skied into a tree.

"You spend more time and energy thinking about winning money than any other person I have ever known,"said a person who lives at this house*.

I know, spend the time and energy actually making money. The problem is, I want more money than I can possibly earn in my lifetime. I want millions, and I want to do little or nothing to earn it.

If only...if only I knew interesting people and if I could write about their zany antics I could sell this blog and earn those millions.

* Tonight Gioconda informed me she does not want her name used in the blog any longer. Further she requested any prior mention of her be blacked out with a sharpie- the way they do in communist countries-I told her I would be blogging about the fact she doesn't want me to blog about her.