Private Banking is the business of the day. For some reason, a very large wealth management institution is very interested in me becoming a private banker. Now, if you've seen my resume, and you probably have because I like to hand it out at dinner parties and boy am I a dinner party kind of guy, you'll be scratching your head right about now. Let's see, technology, supply chain, customer service, ..., ..., ... . Nope, don't see any finance. Let's check his education. Political science, Japanese, business, strategy, economics, ..., ..., ... . Nope, no finance. So how does this experience turn into private banking? Is this very large Swiss organization secretly profiling me at the networking events I've been going to? What about my blog? If so, they know I'm a great communicator. I mean seriously, is there any doubt about my verbal and linguistic skills? It is all very mysterious.
So I went to the first round of interviews. Two guys, one in the business and one HR. I gotta tell you, that I was on fire. I'm not sure what happened. My stuttering went away. I never said um. I was the King. All that buildup of communication jujitsu came out in one huge burst. I just hope I have something left for the interviews that I really care about.
Yes, I have been invited to the second round. Yes, I'm going. Yes, I'm still puzzled. I even asked what exactly they saw in my resume. I mean, it is dazzling, but it's not finance dazzling. Maybe that super nice paper that Liz made me print them on had something to do with it.
So people. All of you with a net worth of over $10 million, make sure we keep talking. Supposedly this fine Swiss institution has the secret to 8% annual returns, with a sigma of 3. Now that is impressive. I'm clueless about finance, but looking at my investments over the past 10 years, I'd kill for 8% annualized. Maybe I can just have them give me the secret and then I'll be on my merry way.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Spaaa-iiicyyyyy
As you can tell, my mind and hence my writing, wander quite a bit. I've written about running, the subway, politics, school, and now food and drink. Red Bull probably wasn't the best way to introduce my new topic, but like I said, my mind wanders. My organizational skills are lacking. I sure hope that I remembered to delete this site from my email signature. "Hi, I'm looking for a job. Here's my bad ass resume. Oh, ignore that link at the bottom. Look, I'm running a $125 million business. Beavers, what? Hey, over here. Stern MBA. Much suffering for learning's sake. Let me draw you a picture of one of the 100 frameworks I've learned about. Wait, wait, that wasn't me wiping my butt with my bare hand. It was someone else. I know EQUATIONS. EQUATIONS!" Crap, struck down by the online gods again. Speaking of which. One more droll recruiting anecdote before I start to talk about why I'm really here, which isn't just to ramble.
Yes, I'm going through the recruiting process. I like my job. I'm not dissatisfied with it, but you never know what's out there until you go out there and Stern does one thing fairly well. Networking and recruiting for experienced professionals. So I went to one of those events and am schmoozing, telling every recruiter there how exciting his/her company is and how I'm such a great match and have skills to die for. Basically lying for two straight hours. You get the picture. Make lots of contacts and then follow up the next day with resume submissions, phone calls, etc. Fun you might think. Not really, but this is what I've been programmed to do. Well, I receive a reply back from one of the recruiters and he is very interested to continue our discussion (of course he is - I just made myself out to look like a demi-god). Well, when I open his email, I'm wondering why within his reply is another email I had sent to a different recruiter from a different firm. You guessed it. Gmail chaining. It's a known bane, but in my eagerness to show that I would be responding within the requisite 24 hours, I must not have noticed that little detail. Yes, I was sheepish. Particularly because these two recruiters represent two very different companies, both of which are under the impression that I am only for them. Not anymore. At least one of them knows that I am what in recruiting terms is defined as a (cover your eyes small children) job prostitute. I'm not picky. Just give me the money and I'll take you higher than you've ever been. Unless you've done heroin. Which I haven't.
Ok. That was exhausting. Do I really want to go into the reason why I initially felt my muse coming on? Not really. Time to start the day. I'll get back to you in two weeks. As a reminder to myself, as well as a teaser for all of my adoring fans, I'll just tell you that my next post will be about silky smooth goodness, with a little habanero thrown in for good measure.
Yes, I'm going through the recruiting process. I like my job. I'm not dissatisfied with it, but you never know what's out there until you go out there and Stern does one thing fairly well. Networking and recruiting for experienced professionals. So I went to one of those events and am schmoozing, telling every recruiter there how exciting his/her company is and how I'm such a great match and have skills to die for. Basically lying for two straight hours. You get the picture. Make lots of contacts and then follow up the next day with resume submissions, phone calls, etc. Fun you might think. Not really, but this is what I've been programmed to do. Well, I receive a reply back from one of the recruiters and he is very interested to continue our discussion (of course he is - I just made myself out to look like a demi-god). Well, when I open his email, I'm wondering why within his reply is another email I had sent to a different recruiter from a different firm. You guessed it. Gmail chaining. It's a known bane, but in my eagerness to show that I would be responding within the requisite 24 hours, I must not have noticed that little detail. Yes, I was sheepish. Particularly because these two recruiters represent two very different companies, both of which are under the impression that I am only for them. Not anymore. At least one of them knows that I am what in recruiting terms is defined as a (cover your eyes small children) job prostitute. I'm not picky. Just give me the money and I'll take you higher than you've ever been. Unless you've done heroin. Which I haven't.
Ok. That was exhausting. Do I really want to go into the reason why I initially felt my muse coming on? Not really. Time to start the day. I'll get back to you in two weeks. As a reminder to myself, as well as a teaser for all of my adoring fans, I'll just tell you that my next post will be about silky smooth goodness, with a little habanero thrown in for good measure.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Red Bull
is ill. I've heard people sing its praises, but that might be because they are mixing it with alcohol. I guess beer goggles apply to taste as well. This stuff is nasty. And it was $2.99. Dad, I'm not sure why you drink this stuff. Just get a Dr. Pepper or a Mountain Dew if you need a caffeine rush. Soda is 50% less and actually tastes good. Red Bull tastes like really bad cough syrup.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Consecutive Day Surprise
If I could wrap this gem in a bow and hand it to you I would. People have come to expect twice a month entries and I've tried not to mess with those expectations, but today is a special day. It's consecutive post surprise day, something I haven't done in a long long while. Why is it consecutive post surprise day? It's the day prior to five days without work or school. I'm going to sleep, play with Zane, play with Liz, and try not to use my brain. It will be wonderful.
Ok, so aside from my witty remarks above, I do have something to say. I've been considering switching sides. Not in a gay way, but in a political way. I've been a libertarian, anything goes political junkie, for quite some time. The problem is that even though anything goes, this side of the political spectrum is quite boring and with me, it's all about entertainment. If I never read a right-wing blog again, it will be too soon. Sure, they are right, but damn, they are dull. Trolling over at Kos, Eschaton, the Rude Pundit, etc and hot holy hell am I laughing my tookus off. Seriously, these people have fun with their politics.
I want to stomp my feet, wave my hands in the air, froth at the mouth and scream. That's my definition of fun. Sitting in the library coldly typing about the theory behind why the individual is the most important entity in politics is ... wait, I'm searching ... still searching ... don't feel like opening a thesaurus, but don't want to use dull or boring again. Well, you get the point.
Wait, dreary. That's a good word and yes, I cheated. And just so you know, I have gone to the wingers' blogs, where they do like a good hoedown, but I can't stand the stupidity, the illogic, and overall obtuseness. I need intelligent mania.
Ok. My muse has left me. It must be this conference call that I'm on that is headed into its fourth hour. This call and the right definitely have something in common. Kos, here I come. Pass me a sombrero.
Ok, so aside from my witty remarks above, I do have something to say. I've been considering switching sides. Not in a gay way, but in a political way. I've been a libertarian, anything goes political junkie, for quite some time. The problem is that even though anything goes, this side of the political spectrum is quite boring and with me, it's all about entertainment. If I never read a right-wing blog again, it will be too soon. Sure, they are right, but damn, they are dull. Trolling over at Kos, Eschaton, the Rude Pundit, etc and hot holy hell am I laughing my tookus off. Seriously, these people have fun with their politics.
I want to stomp my feet, wave my hands in the air, froth at the mouth and scream. That's my definition of fun. Sitting in the library coldly typing about the theory behind why the individual is the most important entity in politics is ... wait, I'm searching ... still searching ... don't feel like opening a thesaurus, but don't want to use dull or boring again. Well, you get the point.
Wait, dreary. That's a good word and yes, I cheated. And just so you know, I have gone to the wingers' blogs, where they do like a good hoedown, but I can't stand the stupidity, the illogic, and overall obtuseness. I need intelligent mania.
Ok. My muse has left me. It must be this conference call that I'm on that is headed into its fourth hour. This call and the right definitely have something in common. Kos, here I come. Pass me a sombrero.
Monday, November 21, 2005
Two Slices
Toasted of course. Yes, I had a delicious sandwich the other day. Two slices of toasted gluten-free bread, with deli-sliced turkey, mayo, spicy mustard, two kinds of cheese and lettuce. Never has a sandwich been so good.
I don't really remember if I've mentioned that I have Celiac Disease. Basically, it's an allergy to all things containing gluten. That means wheat, barley, rye, and oats. Let me break it down. That means, no pasta, no bread, no pizza, no Key Lime pie, no German Chocolate cake, no oatmeal with fresh honey, no twice baked cookies, no delightful chicken parm' heroes from Smiling Pizza in Park Slope, no meatloaf sandwiches that my Grandma Egerer has perfected. Essentially, my diet sucks.
Well, yesterday, I had a little bit of heaven. Liz has always been very aware of my disdain for all of the imitation products that act like delicious gluten-containing foods, but that I've very loudly stated taste like kaka. Liz found a bread for me that doesn't taste like kaka. I'm crying now. I wish you could see it.
I don't really remember if I've mentioned that I have Celiac Disease. Basically, it's an allergy to all things containing gluten. That means wheat, barley, rye, and oats. Let me break it down. That means, no pasta, no bread, no pizza, no Key Lime pie, no German Chocolate cake, no oatmeal with fresh honey, no twice baked cookies, no delightful chicken parm' heroes from Smiling Pizza in Park Slope, no meatloaf sandwiches that my Grandma Egerer has perfected. Essentially, my diet sucks.
Well, yesterday, I had a little bit of heaven. Liz has always been very aware of my disdain for all of the imitation products that act like delicious gluten-containing foods, but that I've very loudly stated taste like kaka. Liz found a bread for me that doesn't taste like kaka. I'm crying now. I wish you could see it.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
89
The fact that this site has gone from a hardcore running diary to a complaining session has not gone unnoticed by myself. Well, now we're switching gears. This has now become the refrigerator report card. Yes, I received a very unexpected 89 on my Corporate Finance mid-term, well above the mean. This is funny to me as I haven't really understood what's going on in that class until the past week and a half when I actually started reading the book and using the frameworks...for a different class. I've come to realize that Stern does know what it's doing when it sets up its curriculum. I've even begun to use accounting and although I'll never be a fan, I have seen glimpses of the beauty that is a financial statement. Ah, Monte Carlo. I need to go there sometime.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Dance Little Sheep
I'm not posting this picture for any other reason than my site looks very bland. As you might know, I'm blandness's biggest enemy. If something is bland, be it food, a book, scenery, school, music, whatever, then I'm going to go to war. Literally. If Liz is cooking chili and I reach in for a taste test and it's bland. Out comes the red pepper. (Don't tell her, please.) If a class is bland, I'm bound to take a little nap, with my eyes open of course. I've perfected the technique. Financial Statement Analysis - bland - sleep time.
Corporate Finance - somewhat bland - sleep time during figuring out the beta of debt, but waking up for real options
Competitive Strategy - lectures - bland - sleep time. Presentations while the crazy red-socked professor, who told us he likes to smoke a joint Friday nights on his porch in East Hampton, rips the presentors to shreds - not so bland, almost entertaining.
History of Finance taught by an Oxford professor - spicy, riveting - no sleep. Immigration will solve all our woes and the death of globalization is nigh.
Anyways, blandness is bad. Anything but boredom. I would have made a great emperor. Now dance.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
This Is Not The End
I'm sorry if I scared some of you and made you cry by my previous post. I'm not abandoning my blog. I wouldn't do that to such a treasure. Liz, Zane, and VTOLing are all up there at the top of the importance list. Work, baaaa! School, double ba baaaa! VTOLing, I love you. You are my soul's retreat.
So I've been reading mindless drivel before I get my usual four hours of sleep. Just finished the Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, the Unbeliever. I read those books when I was a kid. Gotta tell you, I was a smart kid, with a big time D & D imagination. I remember one time wishing that the pie tin that was sitting in my backyard was a spaceship that would whisk me away to a place full of wizards, dragons, and fair maidens. I think I stood wishing, staring out of the back window of my house on LaDonna for a full 45 minutes. I think this was after I set fire to my neighbor's house. Yes, I was and still am disturbed.
V E N G E A N C E!!!
So I've been reading mindless drivel before I get my usual four hours of sleep. Just finished the Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, the Unbeliever. I read those books when I was a kid. Gotta tell you, I was a smart kid, with a big time D & D imagination. I remember one time wishing that the pie tin that was sitting in my backyard was a spaceship that would whisk me away to a place full of wizards, dragons, and fair maidens. I think I stood wishing, staring out of the back window of my house on LaDonna for a full 45 minutes. I think this was after I set fire to my neighbor's house. Yes, I was and still am disturbed.
V E N G E A N C E!!!
Monday, October 24, 2005
Alienation
I realize that I have lost whatever momentum I ever had with this thing and that my readers, all three of them, are long gone. Them's the breaks. I wish I could help you out. I know most of you. Just call me. I'll probably forward it to voicemail and never call you back, but you never know.
If anyone knows how to quantitatively measure risk using marginal contribution and salvage rates, let me know. My brain hurts.
If anyone knows how to quantitatively measure risk using marginal contribution and salvage rates, let me know. My brain hurts.
Thursday, September 29, 2005
100% Dumb
Yes, I'm an idiot. My continual public self-flagellation might appear strange and you might think it is some form of catharsis, but it's not. That's just who I am, a self-torturer. Who wouldn't be after the example this government has set? Torture is fun. Everyone join in.
Ok, so here is why I'm not the brightest bulb in the box. First week of class this week for the fall semester. By the way, that one week break between Financial Statement Analysis and this week was sorely needed. Why am I doing this again? Ah, yes, the supposed pot of gold that will supposedly be coming post-May 4th. I have been slowly convinced otherwise, but we'll see. Rambling again sorry. No sleep and I think my son gave me pneumonia. Back to dim-bulb boy.
Monday and Tuesday went well. Well, Monday didn't. I decided to take the red eye home from Arizona, with a 1 year old who decided to wake up and scream his head off with about 90 minutes left in the flight. Upon landing, we went home and I logged in and worked for the day. Then I went to class, Corporate Finance. It's still a little hazy and I don't remember much. Tuesday was much better. Competitive Strategy. Going to be a good class. A lot of work, but work that I'll definitely use going forward. That brings us to Wednesday. Supply Chain Management. Again, a very exciting class. Seriously, I have been looking forward to this class all summer. I showed up, having read the case and ready to rock. I sit down and the professor starts by talking about how this is the second session. I'm completely confused. Second session? Am I in the wrong class? Nope. Prof's name is on the slides and it's definitely supply chain. I take a closer look at my syllabus. Apparently this class started last Wednesday. You may point your fingers at the screen and screech now.
Apparently, Monday and Tuesday classes started this week, but Wednesday and Thursday classes started last week. So I missed the first class last week of the course that I've been looking forward to all summer and had no idea I was missing it. You'd think that being an MBA student at Stern, I'd have learned to read by now. Apparently not. Well, at least my idiotness was only known to me.
It wasn't to last for long. So the professor is talking about inventory and shows some industries with their inventory ratios. He asked if anyone was in those industries. I was and raised my hand. He called on me and asked what my ratio was. I said 85. He gasped. He was very impressed, as was the class. They immediately labelled me an outlier as I was heads and shoulders above the industry average, which is around 7. The funny thing is that I gave 85 because I thought initially he was asking about inventory turnover, which when you plug in 85, is downright horrible. My actual inventory ratio (COGS/average inventory) is around 3, which is why I'm in this class. Yes, I am a fool. I still don't know how I was accepted by this fine institution. I hope they never find out that I am in fact not an Eskimo.
Ok, so here is why I'm not the brightest bulb in the box. First week of class this week for the fall semester. By the way, that one week break between Financial Statement Analysis and this week was sorely needed. Why am I doing this again? Ah, yes, the supposed pot of gold that will supposedly be coming post-May 4th. I have been slowly convinced otherwise, but we'll see. Rambling again sorry. No sleep and I think my son gave me pneumonia. Back to dim-bulb boy.
Monday and Tuesday went well. Well, Monday didn't. I decided to take the red eye home from Arizona, with a 1 year old who decided to wake up and scream his head off with about 90 minutes left in the flight. Upon landing, we went home and I logged in and worked for the day. Then I went to class, Corporate Finance. It's still a little hazy and I don't remember much. Tuesday was much better. Competitive Strategy. Going to be a good class. A lot of work, but work that I'll definitely use going forward. That brings us to Wednesday. Supply Chain Management. Again, a very exciting class. Seriously, I have been looking forward to this class all summer. I showed up, having read the case and ready to rock. I sit down and the professor starts by talking about how this is the second session. I'm completely confused. Second session? Am I in the wrong class? Nope. Prof's name is on the slides and it's definitely supply chain. I take a closer look at my syllabus. Apparently this class started last Wednesday. You may point your fingers at the screen and screech now.
Apparently, Monday and Tuesday classes started this week, but Wednesday and Thursday classes started last week. So I missed the first class last week of the course that I've been looking forward to all summer and had no idea I was missing it. You'd think that being an MBA student at Stern, I'd have learned to read by now. Apparently not. Well, at least my idiotness was only known to me.
It wasn't to last for long. So the professor is talking about inventory and shows some industries with their inventory ratios. He asked if anyone was in those industries. I was and raised my hand. He called on me and asked what my ratio was. I said 85. He gasped. He was very impressed, as was the class. They immediately labelled me an outlier as I was heads and shoulders above the industry average, which is around 7. The funny thing is that I gave 85 because I thought initially he was asking about inventory turnover, which when you plug in 85, is downright horrible. My actual inventory ratio (COGS/average inventory) is around 3, which is why I'm in this class. Yes, I am a fool. I still don't know how I was accepted by this fine institution. I hope they never find out that I am in fact not an Eskimo.
Friday, September 09, 2005
The Truth
I'm a dork. A geek. A big time nerd. The gelled spikey hair might portray a GQ male supermodel, but deep down, I just can't get away from my dorkness. This blog is just further evidence of this. Aside from teenage girls screaming for attention, who keeps an online diary? Look at me, look at me, I'm a dork. Possibly even worse, I'm a dork screaming out for attention.
My sister is getting married next week in the home country and of course I will be there. After the festivities, I'll be there for another seven glorious days of Mexican food, something that New York is getting better at, but still has a ways to go. All other cuisines, New York does better than just about every city in the world, but for some reason, good Mexican is difficult to find, aside from this little tamale stand in Sunset Park. It's a sad day when I make the best menudo within a 1000 mile radius.
During my time in the motherland, I will of course be visiting with friends and in all likelihood playing video games. It's who I will be playing video games with. I will be playing video games with people that I have known for years, but only hung out with two or three times. That's right, video games with my fantasy sports league friends. Double whammy. These are again, guys I've met and might have even played volleyball with a couple of times back in the day, but people that I've only gotten to know since the establishment of several fantasy sports leagues post-moving to New York. They are my online fantasy friends. And we will be playing video games. I'm not sure if I should just shake their hand and give them the stone faced glare that I do so well or if we should kiss cheeks New York style. I'll have to check the online dating sites to see what proper protocol is.
My sister is getting married next week in the home country and of course I will be there. After the festivities, I'll be there for another seven glorious days of Mexican food, something that New York is getting better at, but still has a ways to go. All other cuisines, New York does better than just about every city in the world, but for some reason, good Mexican is difficult to find, aside from this little tamale stand in Sunset Park. It's a sad day when I make the best menudo within a 1000 mile radius.
During my time in the motherland, I will of course be visiting with friends and in all likelihood playing video games. It's who I will be playing video games with. I will be playing video games with people that I have known for years, but only hung out with two or three times. That's right, video games with my fantasy sports league friends. Double whammy. These are again, guys I've met and might have even played volleyball with a couple of times back in the day, but people that I've only gotten to know since the establishment of several fantasy sports leagues post-moving to New York. They are my online fantasy friends. And we will be playing video games. I'm not sure if I should just shake their hand and give them the stone faced glare that I do so well or if we should kiss cheeks New York style. I'll have to check the online dating sites to see what proper protocol is.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Do Not Hump
On the way into the city this morning, my train stopped at a train yard to let one of those super fast diesel commuter trains rush on by. I looked out the window and saw a flatbed car sitting there with a bunch of walkway side railing tied to the top of it. Painted in white stencils was the phrase above. It wasn't graffiti. It had a very official look. I would have taken a picture, but my camera phone doesn't have a zoom function. I've resisted the temptation to google this and am throwing it out to my readers. What exactly does this mean? Don't google it. I'll know if you do.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
The Dark Side
If any of you have a positive image of myself that you would rather not have change, please discontinue reading now.
I am a small 'l' libertarian. What this means is that I annoy conservatives because I don't believe in legislating morality (i.e. drugs should be legalized, gays should be able to marry, etc) and I annoy Liberals because I believe that the government's job is to stay out of the way (i.e. end all entitlements, abolish the income tax, etc). Why am I telling you this when I have striven so hard to keep politics out of this site, aside from my favorite links? Because a girl called me stupid this weekend and it filled me with glee. A glee that I'm still buzzed from as sad as that may seem.
I had the unfortunate experience of being required to go to school last Friday, Saturday, and Sunday from 9am to 4pm each day. The official title of the class was Professional Responsibility, but the content was about the market, ethics, and law. The first two days were a bore as the pharmaceutical kids took over. I wasn't interested in arguing about the drug industry's creation of diseases and their 'public service' announcements to raise awareness of this awful state in order to find consumers for their drugs (i.e. anxiety disorder and Paxil - c'mon, who isn't anxious?) or in the glorification and funding of breast cancer research at the expense of other diseases that kill many more Americans, but just aren't sexy enough. Pardon the pun.
What I was interested in was in our discussions of the third day of insider trading, which I think should be legal (the price of the stock reflects the true value due to insider knowledge, as well as being practically unenforceable Martha aside), corporate negligence aka tort, and in universal human rights, which is really a misnomer as there are no such things.
I won't go into all of the fun little arguments I had that day. Let's just get to the girl who called me stupid. We're talking about universal rights, which I've already stated are relative to society and that until a market fails, the only rights a person has are the ones granted by the government. Once the market fails and people no longer accept the current state of things, political will and action changes the rules and additional rights are granted. Rights, not being inherent, but granted. As you can imagine, this annoyed some of the bleeding hearts in the class. I heard many a sigh. Yes, I was beginning to giggle.
The professor then posed a hypothetical situation where a U.S. company owns a factory in another country. Above the exit to the building is a large sign that states that anyone caught stealing will be turned over to the authorities and punished to the full extent of the law. Inevitably, you catch someone stealing. You turn him over to the police. The police take the person outside and shoot him in the head. What do you, as the owner of the company, do? Many comments such as leave the country, dock a person's pay if caught stealing, etc were given. I raised my hand. The professor, at this point was smiling because he knew what was coming. I said to change nothing. Keep the rule as it exists. Everyone in the factory saw the thief shot. The likelihood of someone stealing again is zero.
It was then that this girl said I was stupid. No argument. Just a playground retort. I simply laughed. No greater compliment can be paid a debater than to insult rather than argue. I'm still smiling, but it's an evil smile.
I am a small 'l' libertarian. What this means is that I annoy conservatives because I don't believe in legislating morality (i.e. drugs should be legalized, gays should be able to marry, etc) and I annoy Liberals because I believe that the government's job is to stay out of the way (i.e. end all entitlements, abolish the income tax, etc). Why am I telling you this when I have striven so hard to keep politics out of this site, aside from my favorite links? Because a girl called me stupid this weekend and it filled me with glee. A glee that I'm still buzzed from as sad as that may seem.
I had the unfortunate experience of being required to go to school last Friday, Saturday, and Sunday from 9am to 4pm each day. The official title of the class was Professional Responsibility, but the content was about the market, ethics, and law. The first two days were a bore as the pharmaceutical kids took over. I wasn't interested in arguing about the drug industry's creation of diseases and their 'public service' announcements to raise awareness of this awful state in order to find consumers for their drugs (i.e. anxiety disorder and Paxil - c'mon, who isn't anxious?) or in the glorification and funding of breast cancer research at the expense of other diseases that kill many more Americans, but just aren't sexy enough. Pardon the pun.
What I was interested in was in our discussions of the third day of insider trading, which I think should be legal (the price of the stock reflects the true value due to insider knowledge, as well as being practically unenforceable Martha aside), corporate negligence aka tort, and in universal human rights, which is really a misnomer as there are no such things.
I won't go into all of the fun little arguments I had that day. Let's just get to the girl who called me stupid. We're talking about universal rights, which I've already stated are relative to society and that until a market fails, the only rights a person has are the ones granted by the government. Once the market fails and people no longer accept the current state of things, political will and action changes the rules and additional rights are granted. Rights, not being inherent, but granted. As you can imagine, this annoyed some of the bleeding hearts in the class. I heard many a sigh. Yes, I was beginning to giggle.
The professor then posed a hypothetical situation where a U.S. company owns a factory in another country. Above the exit to the building is a large sign that states that anyone caught stealing will be turned over to the authorities and punished to the full extent of the law. Inevitably, you catch someone stealing. You turn him over to the police. The police take the person outside and shoot him in the head. What do you, as the owner of the company, do? Many comments such as leave the country, dock a person's pay if caught stealing, etc were given. I raised my hand. The professor, at this point was smiling because he knew what was coming. I said to change nothing. Keep the rule as it exists. Everyone in the factory saw the thief shot. The likelihood of someone stealing again is zero.
It was then that this girl said I was stupid. No argument. Just a playground retort. I simply laughed. No greater compliment can be paid a debater than to insult rather than argue. I'm still smiling, but it's an evil smile.
Monday, August 22, 2005
ABackwardsAttraction
Liz's photoblog
My favorite is the most recent pic. This is how Z looks everyday when I come home. Sometimes he stomps his feet and shakes because he's so excited. Yes, I love it.
My favorite is the most recent pic. This is how Z looks everyday when I come home. Sometimes he stomps his feet and shakes because he's so excited. Yes, I love it.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
It Will Not Subside
Items on my mind that probably deserve entries of their own, but due to my poor writing skills and memory, will only receive bulleted entries:
- "You know?" This phrase turns my stomach. What's worse is that it has entered into the Mike lexicon. I shiver every time it escapes my mouth.
- Chaffing. Last Saturday, I went running on a horse trail (Yes, a horse trail in NY. This is Westchester, albeit the West Side.) in 100 degree heat with 90% humidity. I meant to run 6 miles, but had no idea where I was going and ended up running 8. I wouldn't normally run on a day like that, but it was Saturday and I had only run once that week and I guilted myself into it. I did want to eat ice cream that day. Let's see, one bowl of ice cream with chocolate syrup is about 1000 calories (four scoops). Running eight miles took care of that. Anyways, sidetracked again. Sometimes I really don't know how I am able to tie my shoes. Ok, unsidetracked. I ran in that miserable weather and sweated quite a bit. Arrived home, headed for the shower not knowing the pain that was about to commence. Turned on the water and stepped in. Liz heard the screaming. She probably thought I had hit my head on the toilet seat again. No, no toilet seat. Just the water coursing down my body to the unmentionable/taint/chode. Apparently, it was rubbed a little raw.
- I've been wondering why my pants have been so tight. I'm down to 151 and yet my pants are as tight as ever. I discovered the culprit the other day. Apparently fat on my body congregates between the top of my butt and my lower back. It's kind of hidden so that when I stand up, you can't see it. It's only when sitting down that it pushes up and out on my pants that it is noticeable. It's very sad. What do you call this portion of your body? The bass?
Ok, this has turned into a gripe session. I swear, I'm normal, even-keeled, and not prone to mood swings. Maybe this all is coming out because I'm not running enough. Running is usually the way I eliminate all of the negative vibes. Or I could just need a new crystal.
- "You know?" This phrase turns my stomach. What's worse is that it has entered into the Mike lexicon. I shiver every time it escapes my mouth.
- Chaffing. Last Saturday, I went running on a horse trail (Yes, a horse trail in NY. This is Westchester, albeit the West Side.) in 100 degree heat with 90% humidity. I meant to run 6 miles, but had no idea where I was going and ended up running 8. I wouldn't normally run on a day like that, but it was Saturday and I had only run once that week and I guilted myself into it. I did want to eat ice cream that day. Let's see, one bowl of ice cream with chocolate syrup is about 1000 calories (four scoops). Running eight miles took care of that. Anyways, sidetracked again. Sometimes I really don't know how I am able to tie my shoes. Ok, unsidetracked. I ran in that miserable weather and sweated quite a bit. Arrived home, headed for the shower not knowing the pain that was about to commence. Turned on the water and stepped in. Liz heard the screaming. She probably thought I had hit my head on the toilet seat again. No, no toilet seat. Just the water coursing down my body to the unmentionable/taint/chode. Apparently, it was rubbed a little raw.
- I've been wondering why my pants have been so tight. I'm down to 151 and yet my pants are as tight as ever. I discovered the culprit the other day. Apparently fat on my body congregates between the top of my butt and my lower back. It's kind of hidden so that when I stand up, you can't see it. It's only when sitting down that it pushes up and out on my pants that it is noticeable. It's very sad. What do you call this portion of your body? The bass?
Ok, this has turned into a gripe session. I swear, I'm normal, even-keeled, and not prone to mood swings. Maybe this all is coming out because I'm not running enough. Running is usually the way I eliminate all of the negative vibes. Or I could just need a new crystal.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
The Muse Cometh?
Sometimes my muse comes, sometimes it doesn't. Forgive me for my long spells of no writing. I'm sure both of you are devastated. You see, the problem is that my muse only comes during peace, tranquility, and not worrying about $100 million projects that people seem intent on sabotaging. Oh, wait, no work talk. I don't want to get dooced.
So lately, the muse hasn't been around. Lately, I've barely had time for running. Running three days a week is a major accomplishment these days. If I haven't told you already, and I probably have, but don't feel like checking my archives, my goal of breaking a three hour marathon is on hold until after I graduate May 4, 2006 at 9pm. Oh what a sweet day that will be.
Sorry for the pause. I was mumbling again. Something about how the $36k coming out of my own pocket better being worth it. (Thank you employer for picking up the remainder). I learned how to mumble effectively from she who shall remain nameless. It's an art really. Just loud enough so that the person knows you said something, but not loud enough for the person to understand. Then the feigned look of innocence and the loud pronouncement of, "Nothing". I use this technique at work all the time when I don't know what I'm talking about, which is often. It's amazing how far mumbling can take you when you're ambitious, but don't have any skills. I've made a list of times where mumbling is a requirement. I might share it sometime.
So lately, the muse hasn't been around. Lately, I've barely had time for running. Running three days a week is a major accomplishment these days. If I haven't told you already, and I probably have, but don't feel like checking my archives, my goal of breaking a three hour marathon is on hold until after I graduate May 4, 2006 at 9pm. Oh what a sweet day that will be.
Sorry for the pause. I was mumbling again. Something about how the $36k coming out of my own pocket better being worth it. (Thank you employer for picking up the remainder). I learned how to mumble effectively from she who shall remain nameless. It's an art really. Just loud enough so that the person knows you said something, but not loud enough for the person to understand. Then the feigned look of innocence and the loud pronouncement of, "Nothing". I use this technique at work all the time when I don't know what I'm talking about, which is often. It's amazing how far mumbling can take you when you're ambitious, but don't have any skills. I've made a list of times where mumbling is a requirement. I might share it sometime.
Thursday, August 04, 2005
Freak Indeed
Brian, if that was you pretending to be slutty Brittany, bravo, well done. I always knew you had a little she-male in you. Just to let you know, I'll be running with my shirt off tonight. Me and my donut. It's not quite a spare tire yet.
New book. No, Simple Rules for a Complex World is not a self-help book, a book about how to make money, or a book about how to make people like you. It's a book about law, about how in a more complex world, we need a simplified set of laws. Very libertarian. Very Cato Institutish. John Rawls, you've met your match.
New book. No, Simple Rules for a Complex World is not a self-help book, a book about how to make money, or a book about how to make people like you. It's a book about law, about how in a more complex world, we need a simplified set of laws. Very libertarian. Very Cato Institutish. John Rawls, you've met your match.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Window Cube, My Window Cube
Yes, I have graduated to the window cube. Not only do I get a window that looks down at Water Street, but it's bigger than my old cube. Now I get to watch what the two people in front of me are doing.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Science and Smoke
You'll notice that I'm on my second book of the week. Already finished up Harry Potter. No spoilers here, but I was a little disappointed in the quality of the writing. The story is still solid, but this book felt like filler and the end wasn't that dramatic. It was more of a "That's it? That's how it ends?" type of ending.
Freakonomics won't stay on the list for long. I started it today and have only read it on the train to and from work and I'm already half done. Very well written. Engaging style. Great questions. Great anecdotes. Questionable science. If you read it and judging by its sales, you probably have, don't take what Levitt has written as 100% fact. If I hear one more person tell me why the crime rate dropped, I'm throwing something.
Running, something I haven't written about in a while. I'm up to 15 miles a week. I'm slow as hell, but my knees don't hurt that badly anymore. On a 4 miler yesterday, I was struggling to run a 7:30 mile. It's tough being the slow kid. We're in a new ward and my bishop is an ultra-marathoner that routinely runs sub-3 hour marathons. Did I tell you he's in his mid-50s, has six kids, and practices international law? Not sure where he gets the time to train, but I'll tell you one thing. I'm going to smoke him when we race in the fall.
Freakonomics won't stay on the list for long. I started it today and have only read it on the train to and from work and I'm already half done. Very well written. Engaging style. Great questions. Great anecdotes. Questionable science. If you read it and judging by its sales, you probably have, don't take what Levitt has written as 100% fact. If I hear one more person tell me why the crime rate dropped, I'm throwing something.
Running, something I haven't written about in a while. I'm up to 15 miles a week. I'm slow as hell, but my knees don't hurt that badly anymore. On a 4 miler yesterday, I was struggling to run a 7:30 mile. It's tough being the slow kid. We're in a new ward and my bishop is an ultra-marathoner that routinely runs sub-3 hour marathons. Did I tell you he's in his mid-50s, has six kids, and practices international law? Not sure where he gets the time to train, but I'll tell you one thing. I'm going to smoke him when we race in the fall.
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