Away to Franceland
I know, I know... I'm sorry. This poor blog never gets updated anymore. What can I say? Things aren't terribly blogworthy in central North Carolina, in my opinion. My lackluster updating motivation is going to change immediately though, at least for the next couple weeks.
I'm in Raleigh/Durham International Airport at this particular moment, about to board a big ole jet air-li-nerrr to Nice, France. Nice. The event I'm covering is the Partouche Poker Tour main event, which features a buy-in of €8,200. I am flying to Nice via the Greater Cincinnati Internationl Airport (which is in Kentucky, of course), then Paris, and then I have to arrange some sort of transportation from Nice to my hotel in Cannes. Probably a bus. I will be with the boss-man Garry Gates for this trip, along with blogger extrordinaire Marc Convey. Also making the trip are the multimedia team of Thomas Kinsman and Gloria Balding.
I've always had an itching desire to go to Europe, but honestly France was at the very bottom of les places I wanted to le see. Now that I am en route (the only French I speak) though, I am really terribly excited about this trip. My plan as of right now is to spend about a week in Cannes, five of which will be tournament working days. After the tournament, I still have about a week of time to kill, and I intend to plan the remainder of my trip as little as possible, damn the torpedoes. The only real plan I have so far is to check out Barcelona, Spain, where the EPT event will be going on. PokerNews-ers Marc, Logan, Aussie Thomas, and Kristin will be there, so at least I'll have a couple familiar faces across the ocean. Apart from that, Dublin, Edinborough, London, Amsterdam, Copenhagen, Prague, Naples, and Venice are all possible layovers on my way back to Nice, where I catch my return flight.
There's this feeling that I am growing accustomed to of late. It started pre-Vegas, when I arrived at the airport and realized that I was going to a new place. Somewhere that was not North Carolina. And it was great. It wasn't even excitement about Vegas so much, though I dooo love Vegas. It was more a sense of relief that I was away from the same old same old at home. And not that I don't like it here. I'll say it once so I never have to say it again in posts like this: I like it here. I just don't... love it here. I found that airport-induced feeling of freedom kicking up again when I was headed to Uruguay, and again today, as I once again leave North Carolina for places that are different. For better or for worse. Different.
It all really comes back to my nomadic instincts and disposition. I really should have been a hunter-gatherer or like a wandering monk or something, because I would never stop moving if I had my choice. I've also become quite familiar with this set of feelings. Any time I am in a place or a stage in my life for too long, I become disenchanted with whatever it is I am doing. I get lazy and lethargic and settle into a boring old rut of predictibility. The grind. I don't like it. When that starts to happen, I require a big circle changeup to knock me back off balance and get me refocused on what it is I am really doing with myself. Something has to get shaken up in my world. It gives me something to do.
The excursion to Vegas was just that cross-up pitch I needed. It shook me out of my rut and brought me back to a forward-thinking, goal-oriented place where I can actually be somewhat productive. Needless to say then, with my current job, I am really enjoying the travel and the transient nature of life these days. The fact that at any moment, I might be whisked away to some far off land all alone with a responsibility to someone other than myself. How's that for shaking things up a bit.
I'm in Raleigh/Durham International Airport at this particular moment, about to board a big ole jet air-li-nerrr to Nice, France. Nice. The event I'm covering is the Partouche Poker Tour main event, which features a buy-in of €8,200. I am flying to Nice via the Greater Cincinnati Internationl Airport (which is in Kentucky, of course), then Paris, and then I have to arrange some sort of transportation from Nice to my hotel in Cannes. Probably a bus. I will be with the boss-man Garry Gates for this trip, along with blogger extrordinaire Marc Convey. Also making the trip are the multimedia team of Thomas Kinsman and Gloria Balding.
I've always had an itching desire to go to Europe, but honestly France was at the very bottom of les places I wanted to le see. Now that I am en route (the only French I speak) though, I am really terribly excited about this trip. My plan as of right now is to spend about a week in Cannes, five of which will be tournament working days. After the tournament, I still have about a week of time to kill, and I intend to plan the remainder of my trip as little as possible, damn the torpedoes. The only real plan I have so far is to check out Barcelona, Spain, where the EPT event will be going on. PokerNews-ers Marc, Logan, Aussie Thomas, and Kristin will be there, so at least I'll have a couple familiar faces across the ocean. Apart from that, Dublin, Edinborough, London, Amsterdam, Copenhagen, Prague, Naples, and Venice are all possible layovers on my way back to Nice, where I catch my return flight.
There's this feeling that I am growing accustomed to of late. It started pre-Vegas, when I arrived at the airport and realized that I was going to a new place. Somewhere that was not North Carolina. And it was great. It wasn't even excitement about Vegas so much, though I dooo love Vegas. It was more a sense of relief that I was away from the same old same old at home. And not that I don't like it here. I'll say it once so I never have to say it again in posts like this: I like it here. I just don't... love it here. I found that airport-induced feeling of freedom kicking up again when I was headed to Uruguay, and again today, as I once again leave North Carolina for places that are different. For better or for worse. Different.
It all really comes back to my nomadic instincts and disposition. I really should have been a hunter-gatherer or like a wandering monk or something, because I would never stop moving if I had my choice. I've also become quite familiar with this set of feelings. Any time I am in a place or a stage in my life for too long, I become disenchanted with whatever it is I am doing. I get lazy and lethargic and settle into a boring old rut of predictibility. The grind. I don't like it. When that starts to happen, I require a big circle changeup to knock me back off balance and get me refocused on what it is I am really doing with myself. Something has to get shaken up in my world. It gives me something to do.
The excursion to Vegas was just that cross-up pitch I needed. It shook me out of my rut and brought me back to a forward-thinking, goal-oriented place where I can actually be somewhat productive. Needless to say then, with my current job, I am really enjoying the travel and the transient nature of life these days. The fact that at any moment, I might be whisked away to some far off land all alone with a responsibility to someone other than myself. How's that for shaking things up a bit.
posted by Eric at
4:32 PM
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