Notes to Self

Sometimes, I forget things. I forget to take the keys out of the keyhole when unlocking the front door and I forget to write down my password for online banking. Once in a while, I even forget my recipe for katsu-don. Does the flour come before or after the eggs?

Sometimes, I forget to write; luckily, someone reminded me this time.

Though, honestly, I don’t think I remember how to write. Somewhere along the past seven months, I seem to have lost several socks, a pencil, and my writing voice.

And what a hell of a past seven months it’s been!

In short, I accepted a job offer at a financial firm and have been busy learning to analyze risk metrics and read programming scripts. But while understanding derivative products and memorizing basic computer commands has been an awesome challenge thus far, I find myself thinking less and less about other things – like writing! So, before I forget, let me jot down a few thoughts and memories. At the very least, maybe this will help me get over my lost socks.

Things to Remember

Following graduation from my university last summer, I scribbled my goals and values on a few pieces of scrap paper:

“Don’t ever feel sorry for yourself and always hold yourself accountable…and be an athlete!” – Wise words from my lacrosse coach.

“Never forget the spirit that you started with.” – A reminder from a friend in Japan, whose artworks has always inspired me for that very same reason.

Remember family and friends, especially those far away.

Be optimistic.

Travels to Come

Between my friends and I, I think we spend so much of our 20s trying to figure out life that it can become a fleeting decade if we let it. And since the length of a minute is a bit difficult to stretch, I might as try to make the most out of what time’s available. So, in addition to gorging on cheesecake, here are some trips I must absolutely take!

Pakistan – An old roommate and I promised to travel there sometime in the next five years, as another old roommate will likely be getting married. Depending on the situation, we’ll either have to save him or the girl.

Nepal, Bhutan, India, Sri Lanka – If we’re in the area, might as well, right?

San Diego Comi-Con – To be clear, I do not own any homemade Batman costumes, but part of me thinks it’d be really cool to share an experience with about fifty other Ironman suits (which, to be clear, I do not own one).

Bora Bora – In another life, I’d like to think that I am enjoying the crystal clear waters of these French Polynesian islands, shamelessly sipping on a strawberry daiquiri and writing poetry. Well, at least I can start with one of these things…

Pour mon amie*

Mon amie,

Nous avons voyagé dans de nombreux mondes

Et chaque fois,

Nous avons vu les choses différemment.

Mon amie,

Ce que tu manges, ce n’est pas ce que je mange

Ce que tu portes, ce n’est pas ce que je porte

Et mon amie,

Ta religion, ce n’est pas ce que je crois

Ta couleur de la peau, ce n’est pas la même que la mienne

Mais mon amie,

Quand tu ris, c’est comme mon sourire

Et quand tu pleures, c’est comme mes larmes

Ça, mon amie,

Ça c’est pourquoi nous avons voyagé dans de nombreux mondes.

*I wrote this poem for a French class a couple years back. Only, it wasn’t my French class. It was for a friend who is my favorite person in the world.

But that’s a story for another time.

Dear Chaos: January 2013

If blogging were a piggy bank, I’d owe it a long post, followed by a continually compounded interest rate of words upon sentences upon paragraphs. In other words, I’m long overdue for writing some thoughts here. Apologies!

However, in lieu of one super long post, I am leaving a series of short reflections. Some may be humorous, others amusing, but all of it based true stories.

J’apprends une langue!

If French were a programming language, I would have never passed that Intermédiarie Français class. Instead, every grammatically incorrect statement would have led my French TA (au fait, il s’appelle Clément) to morph into Agent Smith, Matrix-style. Eventually, a swarm of Agent Smiths would build up to alter the definition of baguette and “pam-pleh-mousse” for some evil purpose. Yes, this is what I picture happening when typing a flawed line of code while practicing Visual Basics. No, I’m pretty sure the Chosen One is someone else.

A Real-Life Matrix Experience

To continue on the Matrix theme, I recently finished a book that reads like the film trilogy (in about 300 pages, give or take). The crazy part is it’s a real-life account. The crazier part is it’s written about financial industries while being a page-turner. 

Titled Dark Pools, author Scott Patterson provides an electrifying tale of how stocks became increasingly traded between algorithm-filled machines in the millionths and billionths of seconds. In less than an eye’s blink, trillions of dollars switch hands across the United States. Trillions! For anyone interested in equities and stock markets, this is a must-read. If you enjoyed the Matrix movies, I would also recommend this book.

Okay, I’ll stop making that reference now.

An Almost Love Poem

Can you write love poems without being in love? Is it like finding rain without clouds? Is that an entirely over-used parallel?

The following poem started out as a belated Christmas gift for a friend, in a sarcastic, inside-joke, kind of way. But it made me wonder how perspectives are shaped on poetry or art in general.

For example, while my friend “enjoyed” my poem, she also wrote “That’s it?” in response to a Neruda line: I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees. But that was before I told her who had written those words.

Before I ramble on, here was my poem. Be warned, it probably won’t be submitted for a Pulitzer Prize.

After-dark

And what of love

In my mind, in the after-dark,

But morning dew before yellow hues.

She holds her form, the only shimmer

That dots the blackened figure.

And what sparks shine upon lights

But that of love,

In my mind, in the after-dark.

So what did you think? And do you have any advice on learning French or computer languages? Better yet, do you have any good books to recommend? A curious mind would like to know.

No Means No!

For the past few days, I’ve gone to work, read books and learned some programming – but these are stories for another time. Instead, here is a brief cartoon because, for the past few days, I have also helped a good friend of mine with his term paper for Urban Economics. To complement his semester-long research, there were ambitions to review multivariate regression outputs for statistical analysis. The only problem was that my friend is armed only with experience from Intro to Stats. So, the past few days has been a crash course of basic econometrics through numerous G-Chat sessions and one “Dude, please be awake” text message at 3 in the morning.

For those who understand statistics, I hope you enjoy the lukewarm humor. For those who detest all forms of mathematics, I hope you aren't easily offended by sexy sheets of paper. 

A Willingness

I had cheesecake a few days ago but had forgotten to snap any food photos. My excuse for this heinous crime? Family.

Sis and her fiancé are visiting for a few more days. Between sightseeing in New York City and shopping at Costco, there are chatters of discussions – mostly on wedding dresses – at the dinner table, over home-baked pork chops and rice.

I forgot to take photos of that dish as well.

Sis and her fiancé are both a bit older and work in finance, so I asked for some mock interview questions. The first one began, “In your opinion, what are the top three factors driving financial markets this past year?” The last one ended, “How do lowered interest rates impact defined benefits pension plans?”

By the end, I was completely, absolutely, utterly disheartened. Even in my mind, I could not articulate a competent response to most all of these questions. Were the last four years just an expensive daydream?!

But the fiancé reminded me, it’s not always about intelligence and how much you know. What’s more important is your curiosity and willingness to know more.

So, here’s to my quest on being more knowledgeable. As part of finding the answers to “why” and “how,” I am going to keep a daily journal of self-reports on what I read in finance-related news. But, this is not just about describing single-index models or knowing what a defined contribution plan is. It is about understanding what happens to people when China’s automobile industry grows or how a US fiscal cliff will affect the Greek economy.

Curiosity, not just intelligence.

Everyone says curiosity killed the cat, but no one mentions that, before the cat went to heaven, he learned to stalk and catch mice, and to rule human beings!

Footnote: The cheesecake was white chocolate raspberry swirl.

Footnote 2: Speaking of the daily journal, be on a lookout for Dear Finance, to be debuted soon!

The Caveman

This is a piece on the current situation in Gaza.

Turkey and grape leaves.

On the days before the first frosts, the Caveman knew only of roasted wild poultry wrapped in softened greens. So when the wind blew, the Caveman thought of turkey and grape leaves; when the night was still, the Caveman dreamt of turkey and grape leaves.

Ask the Caveman to chisel an ode to his next meal, and not even Pablo Neruda could pen more passionately.

Little did the Caveman know – or contemplate – that, thousands of years later, civilized families would gather to carve turkeys, ones just like his! Meanwhile, across the Atlantic, other civilized families would boil grape leaves as rockets raced from the sky.

But more importantly, these are the same grape leaves, just like his!

The Caveman concentrated on building his fire. He did not have time to imagine the upcoming rise and fall of Rome or Germany or atom bombs. Perhaps the Caveman simply lacked imagination, but we cannot know for sure. He was too busy keeping an eye on the turkey and grape leaves.

But ask the Caveman about Nazi ideology, and he would have answered that genocides don’t require concentration camps and human ovens, nor does it need ICC definitions to determine when the indiscriminate murder of a people actually becomes the indiscriminate murder of a people.

Hell, the last time anything was that clear was when enemies could be distinguished by the Swastika!

Ask the Caveman about nuclear weapons, and he would have understood that, if one bomb ruined Hiroshima, so could the other twenty-seven thousand. With so many missiles pointed at each other, he would have questioned, since when did human beings decide to depend on self-destruction?

Has it replaced turkey and grape leaves? 

 

The Caveman certainly couldn't have written an ode to genocides and atom bombs. Here’s to hoping I can’t, either. 

Footnote: Turkey and grape leaves represent the two conflicting states, as both ingredients are used in Israeli and Palestinian dishes, respectively.

Footnote 2: The "Caveman" refers - in part - to the simplicity that "violence" should be defined as. While the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is a complex topic, the fact remains that people are being killed, whether 3 on one side or 40 on the other. Too often, we forget this during discussions. 

Footnote 3: Scholars and governments alike are often hesitant on declaring genocides within conflicts. But this label should not prevent institutions from working to stop violence.

Footnote 4: I had mentioned atom bombs because Israel is the only state to neither confirm nor deny possession of nuclear weapons. I think this act (or lack thereof) plays a major role in determining US foreign policies. If you have additional thoughts, let me know!

Not For a Pulitzer Prize

Note to self: The word “erotic” is not interchangeable with “beautiful.”

It was a lesson learned the hard way when I wrote my first horror story – and wanted to describe the lead female character – in eighth grade. Since then, I like to think I've gained a bit more experience in writing through personal journals, research papers and magazines.

Unfortunately, at no point in time did I ever stop to acquire a love for poetry.

Partly, this is thanks to my inability to critically analyze any lines past “Roses are red, violets are blue.” During high school, interpreting the works of Emily Dickinson and Robert Frost was as difficult as AP Calculus!

But just as I have attempted to understand partial derivatives for the Lagrange multiplier, I am trying my hand at writing art. So, here is a short poem. It may not win the next Pulitzer Prize, but you have to start somewhere, yeah?

Just One Memory

So if you could know just one friend, who would you love?

And if you could love just one home, where would you dream?

And if you could dream just one moment, when would you see?

And if you could see just one memory, why would it be?

Let me know how you read it. And if you enjoy writing your own verses, please do share them!

Footnote: This poem was actually written many months ago, which means it’s been some time since I've tried poetry. I will have to get back into it! 

First

First things first.

Her name is Volia and the first time she said, “No, thank you” was before I could even ask her out!

She is my beautiful Belarusian friend, with powdered blue eyes, blonde hair and a gift to never have a single, comprehensible conversation with me. So when I invited her to spend a day in Boston, she misunderstood my gesture and wrote back a long response, which can be aptly summarized as, “No, thank you.” Of course!

This was the bittersweet beginning of a warm friendship and, over the years, we bonded over small problems (Macroeconomics presentation? For tomorrow?!) and shared a few relationship secrets (Date with him? Tomorrow?!). Somewhere in-between, we even learned to play squash and overcame language barriers of “Heh?” and “What?”

But just as a hot cup of cocoa has to cool at some point, our everyday bond eventually came to an end. Now, she is back at the university, writing her honors thesis on business regulations and I am doing a finance fellowship in another city. So much for practicing squash together.

So much for Boston.

A few weeks ago, I received a letter from her. On a creased piece of paper, she told me of her worries when thinking about life after college. How will she stay in touch with friends? Should she apply for graduate programs, or start searching for jobs? What if she finds failure and disappointment?

I wrote back, “Volia, you shouldn’t be afraid of failure. No one’s ever succeeded without falling a few times, so don’t be afraid to succeed.”

Though, on the inside, I’m just as scared. How do I establish a stable career path in this economy? When will I be able to support my family? Can I stay healthy, mentally and physically? What if all I find is failure and disappointment?

No, thank you!

This past weekend, I visited my university and celebrated Volia’s birthday with her. It was refreshing to see her, not because of overdue squash matches or for her powdered blue eyes, but because she reminds me to always work hard. Forget about worrying and, instead, spend that time focused on the tasks in front – honors thesis or fellowship.

More importantly, I am reminded to always treasure the moments with my beautiful Belarusian friend. After all, laughter is just as serious as work. So, along with long hugs and dinner, Volia smiled and joked, “Okay, no more Boston. How about we do D.C. next?”

Yes, please!

Footnote: All names have been changed for privacy and safety purposes - you know, in case I ever end up as a CIA agent.

Footnote 2: This post is titled "First" because it is the first time that I mention a specific person, what I do and where I am (approximately). 

Sushi and Burgers

Apologies! I haven’t written nearly enough these past few weeks. I haven’t had nearly enough cheesecake either.

Speaking of food, I do have a few updates. Sure, a lot has also happened recently with careers, friendships and personal reflections, but these cannot be discussed without sharing some appetizers and entrées first. So, dinner it is!

A friend once estimated she’d save $300 a year if she learned to make her own sushi. I came to a similar conclusion, give or take another $500. (Especially if I keep going to Minado)

Thanks to my insatiable love for a good ol’ cheeseburger, I had enjoyed this Five Guys treat twice in the span of one week and some four hundred miles apart.

Perhaps my next post should be about my new exercising plans…

With great food comes great conversation – though often followed by a food-induced drunkenness. I’ll write down those thoughts and moments soon! In the meantime, let me know what foods you typically go out for, and why you enjoy it!