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#I mean- I wouldn’t bail on the job after just the 5-7 days required for the bit unless it was a real shit show. The Bit doesn’t override-
inga-don-studio · 5 months
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Half considering applying for a night stocking job at Fred Myers if only to work there for 5 nights.
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emilyplaysotome · 6 years
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Chapter 8 - Hiding in Plain Sight
Catch up on Chapters 1 - 7 here! (or just Chapter 7)
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I calmed myself down by reminding myself that Meg was no bright eyed fool.
She was a New Yorker in the most stereotypical sense - slightly cynical, (at the moment) jaded towards relationships, and completely self-sufficient. Her second year into her relationship with Noah, Meg had gotten laid off when a major brand had left the agency she was employed at.
Noah was an engineer and steadily rising in the corporate ranks at the time. He’d suggested that they move in together in order to take any pressure off of her, but Meg had flatly refused. She had appreciated the gesture but refused to allow herself to be rescued by some white knight. Instead, she revised her resume and updated her site, applying to jobs and freelancing before she was offered a creative director role at a superior agency than the one who laid her off.
With her upgraded title and upgraded employer, she then considered Noah’s offer to live together and rather than move into either of their apartments, they found a new place together that was also a considerable upgrade.
I remember secretly admiring how Meg had handled herself back then and wondered if I would have handled myself as well as she did. With that said, there was no way she would let her guard down (even in otome-ville) and certainly not with a PUA type like Baba.
Rather than get derailed with what ifs, I refocused on what I needed to do in order to get her home in a timely fashion. I pulled out my laptop and saw that Anita had sent me another message, “Naomi I know you’re sick but we couldn’t reschedule - can you do a video conference at 2? Please!?”
I’d hoped to sneak down to the Tribeca precinct that was dangerously close to my office during that time but with the realization that pressing pause on my life was impossible, I begrudgingly agreed to dial into the Zoom meeting. With an hour to kill I sent a flirty text to Hiroshi - confirming that we were still on for our date tomorrow in the park. 
He didn’t reply immediately and I wondered if this was thanks to his new persona, or if he was merely tied up at work.
As for Soryu, I was at a loss but figured it couldn’t hurt to take a closer look at Terek’s card. I noticed that there was a phone number and email address listed but waffled on whether or not emailing him would lead anywhere. Instead, I opted to google Soryu and his arrest information. I was surprised to find out that he’d posted bail - something that seemed off considering the fact that bail had been set fairly high and he had been mugging people on the train for spare change.
There was no further information as far as if he’d been the one to pay or if someone else had covered it, and before I knew it I had to stop sleuthing and instead dial into Anita’s video conference.
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“Hey Naomi - are you with us?”
The quality of the feed made it hard to see who exactly was in the room, but it was clear that the office’s largest conference room was packed full of clients and coworkers.
“Yep! I’m here. Hello everyone.”
“Thanks for dialing in. I know you’re feeling under the weather but I wanted to make sure you were present for this discovery meeting,” Anita said, leading the meeting. “We’ve already done intros so when you’re back in person we’ll be sure to go through that again, but for now I’d like to make the most of our time together and dive in.”
“Sounds good. It’s nice to meet you all.”
I saw the pixilated people nod in acknowledgement and Anita let them know in a lighthearted way that I was 360i’s resident digital marketing expert before moving on to the brand discovery. 
I learned that this “new brand” Anita had been hinting at was actually a hospitality behemoth in Asia that was looking to break into the American market. At the moment their luxury hotel was almost ready to open in New York and they were looking to partner with an agency who could lead a successful digital marketing campaign that would help launch the brand.
We would have one month of prep and discovery (where we’d learn about the brand, their guidelines in order to formulate where in the NYC hospitality space there was a gap that they could fill), a pitch against two other agencies, and once awarded, only one month before the ribbon cutting ceremony.
The owner of the hotel (Hyun Kim) was a heavyset gentleman with salt and pepper hair who sat next to Anita taking notes on a sleek laptop. His fingers made an abnormally loud clacking sound on the keyboard, but his colleagues seemed used to it whereas I noticed a few of my coworkers glancing over from time to time.
Nothing was said during this initial discovery meeting that I found particularly meaningful. In general, I’d worked on and for several hospitality brands and they all required the same type of marketing. The only thing that stood out to me was the fact that this brand did not offer the standard amenities of a luxury hotel but also had created a “health and fitness” component.
LT Hotels was planning to roll out in addition to their spa offerings spin, barre, and yoga classes. Having just been reminded of how cramped NYC gyms tend to be, I silently wondered if there might be an opportunity in our NYC launch strategy by opening up these services to the public for a healthy fee. It seemed like a way not only to define LT Hotels (allowing them to keep half of the space in their classes for guests and half for local members) while maintaining the upper class, expensive and exclusive atmosphere.
I jotted down a small note to research luxury gyms in the city and get a cost estimate, also factoring in that members would have access to LT Hotels’ spa services at a discounted rate, should we propose something along those lines.
At the end of the hour, I thanked Mr. Kim and his team for their time and Anita brought the video meeting to a close. 
Just before she did, I caught a glimpse of some of the men who were on Mr. Kim’s team towards the back and noted that it was slightly ironic that a luxury hotel and spa brand that appealed primarily to women was headed up exclusively by men.
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With my work obligation complete, I pulled out all the stops to find Namba knowing that once 6 pm hit I wouldn’t be able to find him until Monday, should he currently be working a 9-5. I raced down to the TriBeCa precinct (and by raced I mean hobbled seeing as how I was incredibly sore), and strolled right up to the front desk where a weathered, butch female officer asked, “How can I help ya hon?”
“I’m actually looking for someone who used to work here - Jin Namba?”
Unimpressed, she raised an eyebrow and said, “And who would you be?”
“Naomi Lee.”
“Hold.”
I watched as she dialed a few numbers on a beat up phone and gruffly said, “Yeah, Fitzgerald - do you remember Jin ever mentioning someone named Naomi Lee?”
There was a pause and she eyed me up and down before quietly saying, “I dunno, regular lookin’ for this area. Dark hair and eyes. Why? Ok. Ok…sure.”
She hung up and informed me to take a seat. 
I wasn’t entirely sure as to what was happening but after a short wait a burly, Irish cop in his 40s approached me. His ID revealed him as the man the woman at the front had been speaking with and with a smile he gave me a small wave.
“Hey there.”
“Hi,” I said, standing.
“Do you mind going for a walk with me?”
It was a little odd, but Officer Fitzgerald didn’t seem to be shady or scary and so, I followed him outside. We made small talk for a block and a half before he finally revealed that he wasn’t really supposed to say anything about Jin, but had remembered him talking about a girl he was crazy about.
“You’re that girl, aren’t you?”
I flushed and nodded, “I think so.”
“So why you lookin’ for him now when before you didn’t give him the time of day before?”
“Did he tell you I was engaged?”
“Was?”
“Yes, was.”
Officer Fitzgerald smiled, “Shit. I’m a sucker for a happy ending. I was gonna grill you but fuck it - he’s a PI now.”
“That’s a real thing?”
“Sure it is! You mean to tell me you thought it was only somethin’ in movies?”
Officer Fitzgerald let out a good natured tsk and with another grin told me the address of Jin’s office a few blocks away.
“You think I can just…go?”
“You better go! I expect to be the best man at this wedding, ya know.”
“Officer -”
“Call my Fitzy - all my friends do.”
There was something magical about a city where a tough looking man had a soft cuddly nickname and I found myself smiling as a result.
“Thanks Fitzy. I owe you one.”
“Hope it works out. Don’t break my dude’s heart, ok?”
I started to walk in the director of Jin’s office, but Fitzy stopped me by calling out, “And Naomi - if anyone asks…you didn’t hear any of this from me.”
“You got it,” I said and then picked up the pace towards Jin’s office in the west most section of TriBeCa.
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“Can I help you?”
I found myself frozen standing in front of Jin Namba as the magic hour light flooded the large windows and illuminated his office, creating a warm glow around a man who still occupied a special place in my heart. He was the same Jin he’d always been - tall, serious, and eyes that had a hint of good natured mischief behind them.
Out of all of this world’s iterations, he was the closest to his original self - wearing a rumpled, outdated suit that was slightly too large as his five o’clock shadowed ventured on beard territory.
I think it was because of how familiar he currently felt to me that caused all these old feelings to come racing back and I found myself fighting back tears knowing that I wasn’t familiar to him at all.
“Miss - are you ok?” He asked cautiously.
“It’s Namoi,” I said. “Ami. Naomi. You don’t remember either one, do you?”
“Either? I don’t understand…”
“No, it’s nothing. I’m sorry.”
Jin ushered me to have a seat in his office. The space had a small waiting area, but there was no receptionist and from what I could see it was just Jin in an office resembled the one he’d occupied in Her Love in the Force. It was ironic that he’d lost his recollection of who he was, and yet had managed to recreate a space from his past.
He sat behind a large mahogany desk and I sat across from him and watched as he pulled out a vape pen and inhaled.
“So what brings you here?” He asked quietly, sensing my emotional upheaval.
“I’m looking for someone, but I don’t know who…”
Jin grinned and I felt my heart jump in my chest, “Sounds like quite the pickle Little Bird.”
“What did you just call me?”
For a moment, I could see in Jin’s eyes that he looked lost. He whispered the nickname to himself again and then apologized, noting that he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but that there was something familiar about me. Hearing that made me feel received - as if for once, I wasn’t experiencing something that was completely one-sided.
It was strange that I felt so nostalgic now, seeing as how since our breakup, I’d never looked back.
I knew why I had chosen Zyg and had also not-so-secretly thought that Jin was slightly too old for me. Despite that, there was something about the fact that even the “changed” Jin at his core was so closely tied to the man he was that even the king himself failed to alter him drastically. Perhaps it due to his age that he had maintained this strong sense of “self” while his younger otome counterparts had been altered much more.
The utterance of his old nickname for me conjured a bunch of feelings in both of us, and he mentioned that he’d gotten into a skirmish at work and suffered a blow to the head which the doctor said caused temporary amnesia. 
I knew it was less of a blow to the head and more the doing of a nefarious king, but seeing as how Jin didn’t seem to want to go into detail he changed the subject and asked, “Anyway, how do you propose finding someone whose identity you don’t know?”
“I have no idea,” I said, “which is why I came to you hoping that you could help.”
“I mostly do cheating spouses, runaway kids, that kind of thing…this….”
“Why’d you quit the force?”
He paused, and I watched a flicker of curiosity flash through his gaze causing him to take another drag of his vape pen and avert his eyes before asking, “You knew me from before?”
“Something like that.”
“Being an officer in this city is dangerous. I’m gettin’ too old for that kind of thing. I thought tailing adulterers would be a bit safer and have far more job security.”
“That doesn’t sound like the person I knew.”
“How did we know each other Little Bird? I get the sense we weren’t just casual acquaintances.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because when I look at you…no. Nothing.”
“No, what?”
I could feel myself leaning towards him with a seductive look that I hadn’t anticipated wearing. He grinned at me and ran his fingers through his hair and with that irresistible smirk of his playfully noted, “I gotta be on guard around you heartbreaker.”
I pretended that he didn’t, though of course I was planning to get that kiss. For now, I celebrated the fact that I’d found five of the six men and left his office fifteen minutes later, promising to compile a list as far as who my top suspects for the king’s mystery sixth person was in this world. 
As I stood in that small waiting area, I boarded the elevator feeling pretty good about this plan of Jin helping me locate this mystery man. However, when the elevator doors closed and I was alone once more, I realized that time was a flat circle and I had a legitimate, authentic crush on Jin Namba once more.
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I managed not to run into any of my coworkers on the way home, and walked into my apartment tired but feeling on top of the world.
I collapsed on my couch and took out my planner to make sure I was on track to get Meg back (and also show the king who was boss). As I reviewed things, I also took notes with the hopes of brainstorming for situations that didn’t seem to have a clear answer at the moment.
Regardless though as drained as I was, I was also feeling very accomplished.
Tomorrow I was set to go out with Hiroshi. I’d met Soryu but had no idea as to his whereabouts. Thea’s contact information was in my phone and as much as it pained me, I could follow up and hopefully figure out what Zyglavis’ new life looked like. Hijikata had me popping Advil like they were candy but I was hopeful my haiku had started to thaw his heart. And finally, I was relieved to know that Jin hadn’t been transformed into some sexist, racist bad iteration of a NYPD cop.
Just as my guard started to come down there was a bright light and a snap and the King of the Heavens stood with an annoyed looking Meg standing next to him.
“Meg!”
I ran towards her and gave her a hug which she reciprocated.
“Ah tut tut,” the king said, gently separating us. “I’ll admit that I was amazed by your progress, but until you tell me the names and whereabouts of all the men you don’t get this one back.”
“Meg, are you-”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me…”
“Goldfish!” The king barked, “Names and whereabouts now or I send her back!”
“But I’ve only found five of the six.”
With a devilish grin the king laughed and noted, “Oh ho! I should have known you weren’t that clever.”
“Excuse me?”
“You didn’t even realize that you found the sixth man?!”
The king’s laughter grew from a chuckle into a hearty belly laugh and I racked my brain trying to think of all the places I’d gone today - from the subway, to the bodega, and even those at Hijikata’s gym. Either way, I’d been far too distracted to really notice and was beating myself up as a result.
Meg caught my attention by covertly waving her hands in the hopes of pulling me out of my stupor. She stood slightly behind the king (out of his eyeline) who was having a grand ol’ time at my expense, and mouthed something at me while pointing to her pocket. Before I could process everything that was happening the king snapped his fingers and she was gone once more.
“Just text me when you figure out the identity of the 6th man,” the king said flippantly, dabbing the tears that formed from laughter before snapping his fingers and leaving me alone again.
I let out an angry moan and collapsed on the couch once more, frustrated and wondering how it was possible that I could have met the last man without realizing. I had been so tired when I came in that I was still in my army jacket and as I slumped onto the couch I heard a crinkle and remembered Meg’s gesturing.
It was then that I reached into my pocket and discovered the list of possible suspects I’d written out before the king had taken her. My eyes widened as I saw that not only had Meg survived her time in the otome world, but she’d continued to be my ally as more than half of the names on my list were crossed out.
I now had three suspects for the mystery sixth man, and to be honest I wasn’t happy about who they were.
Chapter 9 here
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Thanks for reading :)
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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years
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WHAT THE ESSAY
Where does it go wrong? Who knows exactly how these factors combine to boost startups in Silicon Valley and ask How could we make something like that happen here? If you found people who'd never seen an image of it and sent them to a museum in which it was hanging among other paintings with a tag labelling it as a story about a patent will be about a bogus patent. Few investors understand the cost that raising money from them imposes on startups. Not to everyone, but to write a big, complex program, the best way to handle a frightened 10 year old had about that would probably be better just to tell us the cat was now happily in cat heaven. It seemed obvious that beauty, for example have been granted large numbers of preposterously over-broad patents, but the custom among the big companies seems to be the early adopters, you'll no longer have a perfect initial market handed to you on a platter. You can tell the child that he or she is an X, and the rate at which it changes is itself speeding up. As far as I know, when painters worked together on a painting, they never worked on the same parts. I watched it happen to Reddit. So the solution may be to think about how such a management company might be organized.
You have to add some sort of push to get them to move.1 They happily set to work proving theorems like the other mathematicians over in the math department, and indeed the whole concept of the modern university was imported from Germany in the late 19th century the teaching of writing was inherited by English professors. But you yourself are the most important reader. I suspect over at General Motors the marketing people are telling the designers, Most people who buy SUVs do it to seem manly, not to drive off-road. If they aren't an X, why do cars have to be. Less laborious, certainly, but if they did, and again for hypocrisy. The third reason patents don't count for much in our world.2 You're human. We arrive at adulthood with a kind of final pass where you caught typos and oversights.
That sounds right, but is there such a thing as good taste, but that contradict things you thought you knew.3 In the process of answering an email, I accidentally wrote a tiny essay about writing.4 It's like trying to convince someone by shouting at them. So a company threatening patent suits is a company in trouble.5 Partnerships too usually don't work.6 It turns out that looking at things from someone else's point of view. His motive is partly that it would worry them, partly that this would introduce the topic of sex, and partly because, knowing how the story ends, they can't help streamlining the plot till it seems like the best problems to solve are ones that affect you personally. When I was a kid, but it's not hard. For example, the guys designing Ferraris in the 1950s were probably designing cars that they themselves admired.
They wanted yellow. They're going to walk up to the software with no preparation, and it gets judged, as any writing should, by what it says, not who wrote it.7 If you're thinking about turning in some new direction and your users seem excited about it, it's probably the most efficient way a city could give money to a VC fund to establish a first-rate research university in a place so nice that rich people wanted to live there. It has a long way to run.8 It would be great if more Americans were trained as programmers, but no amount of training can flip a ratio as overwhelming as 95 to 5. After taking VC money you hire a sales force to do that instead of letting foreigners take these jobs, we should train more Americans to be programmers.9 But things don't always make detailed outlines; mull ideas over for a few months, it can take days to really understand it again when you return to a problem after a rest, you find your unconscious mind has left an answer waiting for you. I'm not saying you can get a day job. We encourage every startup to measure their progress by weekly growth rate.10 This sort of lie is one of the reasons taste is subjective has even in the mating dance with acquirers.11 Over time, hackers develop a nose for good and bad technology.12 My grandmother told us an edited version of the death of our first cat.13
Notes
The angels had convertible debt with a woman who, because I can't predict which lies future generations will consider inexcusable, I mean no more unlikely than it was the first couple times I bailed because I think this is so hard to judge for yourself and that we wouldn't have understood why: If they want you to remain in denial about your fundraising prospects.
Google to do it to colleagues.
You should probably pack investor meetings with you, it is still a dick move. What will go away, and b I'm satisfied if I could pick them, just those you can play it safe by excluding VC firms regularly cold email startups.
Actually he's no better or worse than he was before, and indeed the venture business barely existed when they decide you're a YC startup and you can imagine what it means is No, they may introduce startups they like to cluster together as much what other people think, but that's not as a note to self. And yet I think is happening when you ask that you're being asked to come up with elaborate rationalizations. As I explained in How to Make Wealth when I was there when it converts.
Advertisers pay less for ads in free markets, why is New York is where the acquirer just wants the business, and post-money valuations of funding rounds are bad news; it would work. Investors are often compared to sheep. But arguably that is allowing economic inequality. Brooks, Rodney, Programming in Common Lisp seems to me like someone adding a few VC firms have started there.
When Google adopted Don't be evil.
One sign of a country richer; if anything they could probably starve the trolls of the biggest sources of pain for founders to do others chose Marx or Cardinal Newman, and the fucking fleas. In many ways the New Deal was a sudden rush of interest, you have no real substance.
But you're not convinced that what you're doing. 35 companies that an artist or writer has to grind. The rest exist to satisfy demand among fund managers for venture capital as an asset class. An investor who invested in a time of unprecedented federal power, so the best high school, because they suit investors' interests.
They're common to all cultures with long traditions of living in cities.
Zagat's lists the Ritz Carlton Dining Room in SF as requiring jackets but I took so long. The most important section.
Enterprise software—and in some cases the process dragged on for months. The threshold may be useful here, which in startups tend to be secretive, because a great one.
Joe thinks one of the web and enables a new database will probably frighten you more than the don't-be startup founders are driven by money, you produce in copious quantities. Anything that got built this way, it tends to be tweaking stuff till it's yanked out of school. And yet if he hadn't we probably would not be to write every component yourself, if we couldn't decide between turning some investors away and selling more of it, whether you want to.
Users may love you but these supposedly smart investors may not understand you at all. I did manage to allocate resources, political deal-making power. They assumed that their experience so far. The original version of Word 13.
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shkid · 4 years
Text
Condensing posts:
he got a job, i had a panic attack
So last night I ended up going out. We had our last ever university class, and a bunch of us went out for food. I was ready to hit the library, to prep for a meeting with my dissertation advisor today, but a couple of folks were making me feel bad for wanting to leave. So I stayed and had a couple of drinks. I wasn’t feeling great, but was drinking vodka blackcurrant, because I didn't want anything fizzy. Gradually people left, and one friend started trying to manipulate people to stay out. Fair enough, she had gone to a great deal of effort for having a night out, and the people who said they were gonna stay out ended up bailing early. I kinda felt for her, because there’s nothing worse than having to go home when you’ve got a good buzz going on, and no-one else is feeling it. I promised her one last drink. One last drink turned into a few (inevitably), multiple keys, and missing our last trains. We walked home, talking over each other, and smoking. My mouth was so dry and I already knew that the next morning wasn’t going to be good. She left mine just after 2am, and I went to bed. I slept maybe 45 minutes before getting up with such a thirst. I sipped a pint of water, and was trying to force myself to sleep, but of course I was still wired. honestly must have got up to the toilet about 7 times. My stomach was absolute agony. kept falling asleep for 5 minutes at a time, and then waking up needing a drink, or checking my phone etc. I watched the sunrise which was cool. I had drafted out an email to my supervisor at about 6:30am saying that I wouldn't make it in. I was dry heaving, but there was nothing in my stomach to throw up. Felt like shit for a couple more hours and then eventually got about 45minutes from 9:15am-10:00am. I felt like a new woman. So i got my bag packed and headed into town. Getting off the train I started to feel sluggish, and anxious. I bought a sports drink to try replenish electrolytes but was moving as if I was wading through gravy. Stepped foot in my faculty’s building and my heart was racing. My fitbit said my heart rate was >120. I was sweating, dizzy and nauseas so went to the bathroom. splashed some cold water on my face and rubbed up my cheeks. I looked transparent, and needed to get some colour in my cheeks. I walked with gravy legs to my advisor’s office and she greeted me by saying “how are you?”. I just said “I’m so sorry, I can't do this. I’m not well. can we reschedule?”. I think she was pissed. she said “how long have you been feeling ill? you should have just emailed me to cancel. You look very peaky, I think you need to go home to bed. Maybe go to your doctor”.
I sat outside in the rain and watched my heart rate come down, and my breathing regulate. I emailed her to say I was feeling better and that I think it’s just anxiety. The only other experience I have of that feeling, was the one time I had a panic attack in school (and that was 4 or 5 years ago now)! I reckon it maybe was a panic attack, but probably my baseline anxiety wasn’t helped by the coke comedown, hangover, and dehydration. i’m kinda mortified. She emailed me back and suggested that with her “year tutor hat on” she wanted me to seek support from counselling or my GP for strategies to help. I came home and have just dozed all day. My high-achieving brother on the other hand, got a permanent teaching contract at the school he’s been doing his probationary work at. I’m delighted for him, but feel like it highlights the complete worthlessness I feel about myself. lol.
shkid
what’s the harm in talking about self-harm?
Today I talked to a friend in great depth about my past with self-harm. I’ve only known her for four years(!) Took me long enough. In my 8+ (omg) years, I’ve barely mentioned it to my nearest and dearest. I still have close friends and family who have absolutely. no. idea.
This is a good sign. I’m writing a paper about NSSI and discovering so much about myself, as well as the kids I’m advocating for! Learning to break down the stigma in my own head. We NEED to start talking about NSSI, even if it’s difficult. It needs to become less of a taboo. Too many kids are suffering in silence! If I could speak to my 16 year old self, I’d tell her to believe the people who say that it’ll get better. Learning to forgive myself, and trying to practise self-compassion.
shkid
Sack her, employ a new one
So today was only the second time I met with a student counsellor and it was fantastic. Well actually it was very difficult throughout the actual session but I left feeling so much better. I really struggled to talk today, but I think I've maybe identified what my issue is. I've always known that I'm a bit hard on myself and whilst this can serve a purpose, I think it's become somewhat debilitating. I've always been "a bit depressed" and it's likely because I am literally my own worst enemy. Or at least, my worst enemy lives inside my head as my self critic. I was able at one point throughout the session to be mindful of this and correct something that I said; "I'm no good at talking". Sylvia helped me acknowledge that I couldn't be so bad at it because I had seeked out help and had gone to the session despite knowing I was going to find it difficult. I said to Sylvia "I wish I could just sack her, and employ a new one!" My self-critic is very good at what she does. But I wish she could tone it down a bit. Since the session I've caught myself saying demoralising things to myself, that I would never say to anyone else! A quick google, and the self critic describes me perfectly - often engages in self destructive behaviours! That's me. Whether consciously or subconsciously I've always been one to put myself in destructive situations. Questioning intimate relationships and worthiness of these. Me. To a tee. Sylvia asked me to think of what ugly thing's inside of me that stops me from being able to be kind to myself. The first word that came into my head was "worthless" and no matter how I tried to think of something else, it hung about there. Eventually I said it out loud. And I started to well up as the word came out my mouth. Sylvia was aghast and said she felt sad inside. So did I. I always THINK that I'm worthless, it's just I never acknowledge properly how wrong that thought is!! Thoughts are not facts. When it's just in my head I allow it to be true. That I'm not worth loving. That I'm not worth friendships, a career, a life. But out loud that's ridiculous - Sylvia had me explore things that I could be proud of and take ownership for. I struggled to think of any examples to start with, but have managed to come up with a couple since.
shkid
i’m so irritable
every little thing is bothering me. Today I slept in, which was the first thing that pissed me off today. Fitting that I woke up already hating myself and with reason to. That’s a new record.
had to skip any sort of human routine, and rush to get a train to a class I didn't even want to go to. sat in the class and my group had literally done nothing for the group task. I suggested what we could write for each question, and when it came to the presenting back to the class bit, my friend, (although today feels like a ‘friend’) looked over at me and then to the back of the class where another friend was sitting and raised her eyebrows to give a knowing look of “oh look, C____ isn't going to present today, like every other week” (or maybe I’m just paranoid), so i fucking did present. as a massive fuck you to her and all the others in my group. then once I was done, I kinda juts looked down at my book and started welling up because I was so upset and angry at how my friend had acted with me all morning.
after class, I walked to the library with said friend, and she was all “oh sorry I’m going for lunch with ____, I mean, you can come if you want?” which I took to be an invite to decline her invite. so i went to the library for all of 23 minutes before leaving because I was upset and couldn't focus.
Come home, and think about trying to make a start on some assignment work, but my fucking flatmate (who I really dislike at the best of times), had moved my laptop and work sheets from the dining room table, and spread out her own work. this is annoying for a few reasons. 1) she whinged about wanting a desk in her room for so long that I gave her my desk from my room - so she has a bloody desk in her room and I don't. 2) I spend nearly all my time in my own room, but today was a day where I actually wanted to be able to used the dining room table to try and start on some work. 3) It’s the only fucking table in the flat that I can work at, unless I invited myself to use my old one in her room?!?!
So frustrated. So unmotivated. Still sad. Still lonely.
(but having a check-in with a counsellor tomorrow which is much needed and hopefully will be a good opportunity for me to be able to talk to someone rather than vent to a fucking blog that no-one reads anyway)
shkid
I was having a bad day, and then it started raining
And when I say raining, I mean a torrential hail pellets driving into your face downpour. And my jacket isn't waterproof, and my jeans were clean on this morning but are now soaked. I'm getting really pissed off. I have so much uni work to do and yet can't mentally focus to do it. I was sat in class today, completely not focused. No drive at all. I am REPULSED by my body and yet won't do anything about it. I have no motivation to exercise and find it hard enough to do some simple body weight exercises in my room. I use food as an emotional crutch but then feel even worse after I binge, than I did before. It's a constant Catch 22. I want to cry but my body doesn't allow it. I well up and feel emotional, and yet I can't produce enough tears to actually cry. I don't want to be around people and conversation requires so much effort and I get so irritated at irrational things, and yet I get so down about being lonely. More than anything, I want to self injure but I can't. I can't ruin my chances of being able to swim soon, or upset my boyfriend when he sees my thighs next. I've already "accidentally" burnt my arm on the oven too many times. It's so fucking difficult.
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coreytravelogue · 4 years
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Burnaby (Home), BC - March 27, 2020
By this point of the year I was not expecting or wanting this but then I think the same can be said for maybe 90% of the world’s population but I feel as though 2020 may be predestined for me to maybe not travel this year or to just have a harder time getting around than usual.
It started with being stranded in Newfoundland as we all know, I got back to Vancouver so that is all well and good. So how have I been since? Where have I been? Why am I providing an update if I am not traveling?
Well I write here mainly when I am traveling, I have an adventure to tell or if i am in the middle of an adventure right now and I just want to just talk it out in words on my computer.
To answer the first question in all honesty I am in decent spirits despite being in self isolation, in a way I have sort of been prepared for it for a fairly long time. There are draw backs to this whole thing to flatten the curve of corona virus but all things considered given how things have gone for many people I am pretty fucking lucky so I don’t really have any right to complain. i have about 2 weeks worth of food stored, I haven’t needed to hog any toilet paper since I have usually kept a pretty decent supply as is most of the time prior anyway and I can work from home and still collect a paycheque. The thing that sucks the most is I won’t be able to travel and honestly I have been able to travel at all this year, I guess that sort of answers the second question but it is not entirely the corona virus’s fault.
I was originally supposed to go to Edmonton in mid January to see a friend, watch a hockey game and go to the water park. I had to cancel that due to work stuff, disappointing to say the least but at least I was able to get a refund out of much of it.
I was hoping to go to Victoria in February however due to being stranded in Newfoundland i had the choice of using what leave days I had left on it or have it taken out of ‘next fiscals’ or basically take it out of my flex days off since I work an extra hour every work day in order to get a extra day off every two weeks. Suffice to say I didn’t have a flex day off in February so no trips.
There was hope with maybe going to Victoria this month but as you can tell the pandemic makes that hard which leads to what was going to be the two first big trips of the year for me.
I was planning on going to Ottawa/Gatineau during my Easter beak which I often try to make it 5 days off instead of 4 using my flex day off but at this point that ain’t going to happen. The reason why I wanted to go to Ottawa is mainly to Jayne hat statues and explore my country’s capital in a way I never did before. I have been to Ottawa a couple of times, my Uncle John used to live there and we now and then drove through Ottawa but often never to really see the sights but to either pass through or just stay at his house I never really got to see the place. I mean I got to see Kanata as a teenager but only because we went to see a AC/DC concert there which was my very first true concert.
May has often been reserved for going north; 2018 I went to the Yukon and last year I went to the Northwest Territories. While I was really hoping to go to Alaska since Nunavut is way too hard and expensive to get to, Alaska proved to be way too expensive for me as well and I was planning on going to Portland instead which would be a significantly cheaper and easier trip and still allow me to scratch something off my scratch map of the world. However with both Ottawa and Portland this pandemic has basically forced me to cancel those trips indefinitely.
Bad news is I don’t get my money back in cash, goodish news is I got credit with both WestJet and Air Canada to use for when this pandemic is lifted, that is if it is lifted before the end of the year. Even if it does that doesn’t guarantee WestJet and Air Canada despite holding a monopoly over Canadian skies and getting bail out after bail out still survives this whole ordeal.
So I have been nowhere int he last 3 months which will probably extend to the next 5 months or more. To me I think we are living in adventurous times. An adventure in that I think this is a pretty good test for humanity to re evaluate what is important in their lives right now and maybe figure out who actually has their back right now.
I won’t get political (shocking I know) but you know what in a way I am not going to lie I am actually enjoying this self isolation. Now don’t get me wrong I do not enjoy seeing friends, family and people in general lose their jobs over this pandemic, I don’t enjoy people dying over this either. However if there is one thing I have learned over the past few years it is that you can only worry about the things you can control and you have to make lemonade out of lemons because you have to get something out what you are dealt with.
Today is my first flex day in self isolation and i plan on working on stuff I purposely neglect because i have always found chores or just doing the useless shit to be more ‘important’ though I want to work on the actual stuff I am working on. What I want to work is creative stuff. The teenager version of me would be utterly disappointed with how I am these days. As a teenager doing creative shit was second nature; writing fiction dude I can write 30 pages in a Saturday (whether it was good or not is another story), AMV making bitch please I made 69 AMVs from 2000 to 2005 while most couldn't and wouldn’t even get to 10 within 10 years. Mind you whether any of my AMVs were any good is up to debate. However why was teenager Corey able to do all that? Well because he spent most of his time AT HOME. Yeah he had a part time job and school but outside of that teenage Corey had no social interaction of any kind for the most part at this point. So when I think of this self isolation bit I know teenage and even child version of Corey would have a field day with this. Easy peasy lemon squeeze and chug that lemonade! 
Looking back I feel like teenage Corey probably had less time to work with but still made the most of it. School from 7am to 3pm, work from 4-6pm, homework from 6-10pm unless there wasn't very much but that would often mean only 1 or 2 hours of actual free time and maybe Corey just wanted to game or watch a movie. 
Fast forward to me now where I get up at 5:30 am, 6:30-7:30am i bike to work, 8am to 5pm I work, 5-6:30pm I bike home. From 6:30 to 9pm have free time yet I do nothing. It is more complicated than that as I have other things and people in my life that require and deserve my time however I got full weekends to do it and yet I don’t because I fill it with often useless chores. I guess long story short is I dont feel like i have made better use of my time like I did as a kid and I feel like this self isolation thing may be a good way to force me into getting into the habit of being creative again.
So with that let the day of creating being, I got a novel and an AMV to finish. 
Stay healthy, safe and creative out there people! Shazbot nanu nanu
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“Thought I told you not to trust these hoes, say they love you when you know they don’t…
Say they will, but shit…you know they won’t. Yeah you hear me, you don’t feel me though.
And you ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE.”    --- Jhene Aiko *Comfort Inn Ending*
 Here I am, pistol loaded and my bare hands wrapped around it. It was heavy, hard, cold… I cocked the gun back full force, and put the base of the gun to the side of my head. Finger on the trigger. ONE… TWO… THREE…* I n h a l e * and then a flash of my entire life and what I had been through played through my mind.
The weight of my heart was too much to bare, and reality had set in. I was weak then, and he knew it. My grandmother died, I was left homeless and pregnant with two babies, my mother abandoned me, family disowned me, kids’ fathers aint shit, 400 miles away. At 18 years old I decided that I was DONE. Done with life. You see, all I wanted was love, and to be loved… unconditionally. When I had my first child I thought it would fill the void I had in my heart. I wanted to have the mother-daughter relationship with my child, as I wished I had with my mother. I was constantly searching for approval, confirmation, & acceptance. There hadn’t been one person I met who accepted me for who I was. During middle school and high school I never had a strong group of “friends”… I was “the girl from St. Louis who was pregnant in 8th grade. “ No matter how much I tried to just be ME, my peers and teachers only thought of my children when they saw ME. I had become the epitome of “fake it til you make it.” Smiling my way through the insults, belittling, and sarcasm. Ending most days with a heart filled of shame and anger, crying in my bedroom…
Only this time it’s not just shame and anger, its embarrassment, humiliation, and heartache. The man who I had been spending the past year with had been living a double a life. I only found out when my best friend sent me a txt during Sunday morning service that read: “BBBBIIIIIIIITTTTCCCCCHHHHH!!! Code Red, CALL ME!” After doing her FBI/CIA google search, cuz you know women can find out ANYTHING, she stumbled across a court case with his REAL NAME, DOB, ADDRESS, & List of 5 baby mommas that had his ass on child support! One of which had a son who was four years OLDER than me.  This man told me he was 28 years old, and had two daughters who were 7 and 8 at the time. I had spent time with BOTH of them, they’d spent nights at my house. I was combing their hair, helping with homework, and going on family outings… The youngest daughter, Christina, and I had a special relationship. Her mom had dropped her off on Bernard when she was just a few weeks old, deciding that she didn’t want to be a mother. It was too much for her. So naturally I took her under my wing and would take extra good care of her, loving her the best I could.  I mean full fledge step-mother duties. We were talking about marriage, even looking at houses together, making plans on renovating and really owning my first property. I should have seen the first red flag when he would never be able to stay the night, when he wouldn’t answer texts after 10pm, turning his phone off at night… but could come over right after work for a few hours. I was in LUST with him, but in love with the idea of marriage—and a family. Someone to be there for my sons, help raise them. Teach them important life lessons, sports, how to play video games… the things any young boy should have. So I gave this man my ALL, like a fool. And he used me.
By day he was a security officer at the metro link who I would see every day. My red two-door 95’ Grand Am was a “point A to point B” type of car. I bought it from my aunt in Chicago for $1,000 and my mom drove it ST. Louis for me, which was the most miles I’d ever been able to put on it. I mean the car probably had over two grand in repairs over the year that I had it. So to commute to my job or to go anywhere more than 15 minutes from my front door would require public transit. Bernard was a tall, fair skinned, brown-haired, low cut, hazel-eyed, snack… at the time, to me. He would respectfully speak to me, always tell me how beautiful I was, and asked to take me out on a date. I had NEVER been taken out on a date before. Like EVER. So like bait, I took the hook, gave him my number and so we began dating. The first date we went to the movies, don’t remember what we saw… but 20 minutes in he almost broke his damn neck from his head falling back as he snored. I was just happy to be out the house, without children, and not on my dime. He slowly started to groom me, taught me how to cook, how to season my chicken really good. One day he just showed up with a box full of pots and pans, because what I was working with was the bare minimum. He told me he liked his women with short hair, like Kelly Rowland, so I cut mine (what was left), put a relaxer on it, and went to the salon for a new do. That’s when he showed up and paid the stylist $60… in all ones (questionable, but shiiiitttt). I felt like this was UNREAL, a dream that somebody needed to pinch me to wake me up from. Overly obsessed with being around him. You see, he had a side hustle, making good use of his beat up pick-up truck. There was a huge white sticker on the side with his name and number, and considered that his “way out”. His way to finally become financially stable and make a decent living. I admired that, and supported him in any way—even if it meant sitting in the summer heat, watching him cut grass. He took me home, I kissed him goodnight, and he went back home. To his WIFE, that I had no clue existed.
Rage. Complete rage and confusion as I’m cursing him up, down, in, and out.
“Soooo you have FIVE KIDS?? Your name is Harold??? WHO THE FUCK IS BERNARD? And you’re FOURTY-FIVE YEARS OLD?!!!”
My heart is racing, I can feel my hands literally shaking as I’m grasping onto the steering wheel speeding home.
“What else haven’t you told me?!” I screamed.
“Whoa. Whoa. WAIT! Baby I can explain, will you please calm down and let me explain?” he said, in the most unsure voice I’d ever heard.
“I DON’T WANNA HEAR IT! YOU LIED TO ME! YOU COULD BE MY DAD!”
Tears are running down my cheeks, my vision is getting blurry, and I am HOT. I can feel the warmness all over my body. It was in this moment that I understood how women go to jail for murder every day. Every thought of how to get away with murder crossed my mind. I was ready to roll up on him WITH my girl and smash some windows with 3 complementary flat tires.
“Mommy, I want a snack!” my four year old daughter whined.
I looked over my shoulder and instantly snapped out of my rage. Staring at those three precious gifts. Wiping my face and taking off my now soaked lashes I turn to reassure her that we were almost home. I had to stop and seriously think this to myself:
“Ok jazz, just breathe and let it go. If you smash his car, flatten the tires, and beat his ass… most likely SOMEONE will call the police. Who’s gonna have the kids? You have NO ONE TO BAIL YOU OUT or get YOUR KIDS within the state. Do you want them to end up as wards of the state? Do you want them to live with strangers like YOU did? Do you want to put THEM through this? Is HE worth losing your kids over? Do you wanna end up just like your mom?! …. HELL NO!!! SO GET IT TOGETHA!”
I went back home, settled the kids in and put them all down for a nap. My phone had about 5 missed calls from him and texts begging me to pick up the phone. I gave in and answered: MISTAKE ONE. Because as mad as I was at him, I thought loved him, and I wanted to hear his voice. I wanted to hear what he had to say for himself. An hour had passed as I held the phone to my face, sitting on my couch with balls of tissue in my lap. And then I hear a knock at the door. It’s him… I let him in: MISTAKE TWO. We went to the bedroom to talk: MISTAKE THREE. He apologized for keeping his children a secret and for not being honest upfront. He told me how he didn’t want to scare me away or for me to judge him based off of that. Feeding me a long story on how he and his wife weren’t working out and he was in the midst of divorcing her, but they still live together. He said it wasn’t simple or easy to get her out of the house due to court proceedings, so he basically HAD to live with her, sharing everything until he could get his own place. I was naïve, and believed him. The kicker was that his wife had been the one mothering Christina all along. She wasn’t “motherless”, like he’d made it seem. So he couldn’t just snatch them away from one another. His wife had a strong relationship with her and would ask if her dad was taking her around other women. She knew he was a liar and a cheat, but what she didn’t know is that he had trained his daughter to lie. To cover for him when she was with me, and say Ms. Jazz is the one who “does her hair.” As if he was simply paying me, as a hairstylist—that’s all.
               One day while he was asleep, I went through his phone and got her number. After days of contemplating, I called her. I HAD TO! So we spoke for about two hours—she did most of the talking. Apparently I was number five or six. She began telling me of every other woman he’s been sleeping with, their names, and what they looked like, and what STD’s he’d given her. We began comparing dates of when I met him, how long we’d been together, and all the lies he’d told me. The wife told me she was his second marriage, and they’d been together for eight years. She seemed to be angry, yet accepting of the situation. We agreed to meet in person, and together on a Sunday afternoon we crashed his basketball tournament he participated in with a few of his old friends. There I was, the side chick… standing next to the wife. The look on his face said it ALL. His eyes were buck wide open, stuttering over his words, and begging her to stop hitting him. Baby she went all the way in on him. Then walked out, and flattened his two back tires! I got in my car, blasted my music and took the long way home to clear my head. As I’m driving on the highway, I turn my head over my right shoulder to check for oncoming cars before getting off the exit… and here he is STUCK on the side of the highway, with two flat tires. I said FUCK HIM, drove past, and went home. Now I’m pacing back and forth, contemplating calling him. Telling myself that I didn’t get to adequately say my piece, and I need to let him know. Knowing deep down, I just WONT let it go. I’m looking for excuses to hold another conversation---needing an argument. So I call him. And before I can open my mouth to go off on him, he humbly asks me if I minded keeping Christina while he figures out a way to get the car towed to a tire shop. He didn’t want to wait on the side of the highway with his 7 year old daughter, and I empathetically said yes. Thinking to myself “okay, you’ll get your chance to say your piece… just wait.”
               I waited for a few hours at my apartment with my kids and his daughter, until I couldn’t anymore. I called him again to check on things, and he let me know he was at Sam’s Club up the street from me and was waiting for a new tire. I knew in that moment that I was gonna march my ass up there, and I did. When I got there he was acting suspicious—rushing me away—but I didn’t budge. Come to find out, his wife was correct, I WAS one of many. He called one of his other girls to come buy him the tires because his wife had cleaned out the bank accounts! I knew what was happening when I saw two brown eyes cutting at me from the back of the waiting room, where she was sitting. Looking at him with complete disgust, I left him with his child, and stormed off. I went home, crawled in my bed, and laid with my eyes wide open--- the stream of tears soaked the sides of my pillow. The same week I scheduled an appointment with my doctor to get checked out, and he had given me Trichomoniasis aka “Trich”, the one and only STD I’ve ever had. Thank God it was treatable and went away in a week! But still I thought “What am I gonna do?! Why is my life like this? Why did I have to meet him? Why did you let me fall for him God? Are you even here with me? Why did you let me bring him around me kids? WHY ME?!! Haven’t I gone through enough?! “
Those are the questions that I screamed in my head. Desperately needing an answer, but deaf to sound advice due to the chaos I attracted into my life… I couldn’t get quiet enough to hear the answers. My mind cluttered with thoughts of suicide. I felt like a complete dummy. Like I had wasted a year of my life. I told myself that I should have KNOWN he was bad news from the beginning, but maybe everyone was right about me… maybe I am an unfit mother who will never be able to have love. I felt alone, and all I wanted to do was call my mom and cry my heart out to her. I needed advice, I needed uplifting, I needed to know that I was ONLY 18 and WILL NOT have it all figured out. I needed to know that my life was important and happiness shouldn’t be measured by the amount of love someone ELSE has for you! I loved him the way I expected to be loved back, but not every toad you kiss is meant to be your prince. That sometimes you’ve gotta be with the toad to learn how to appreciate the prince when he does come! But no one was there for me, all I had was myself—and at that time—I couldn’t see that I AM ENOUGH!
So the next time he “stopped by” for casual sex and a shower after work, I grabbed his work issued gun. He always kept in in the holster, underneath the bed. I let him have his way with me, and convinced myself that THIS would be the ultimate payback. That he would learn his lesson on taking advantage of young girls, preying on women with children! That he would regret EVERY single thing he’d done to me, especially giving me a STD!!! My babies were across the hall, sleeping in their room. I told myself THIS IS IT… IM DONE. Heart thumping so loud I can’t hear myself think, mouth is dry and feels like cotton, panting and hands shaking… index finger on the trigger.
3…. 2…. 1…. *C L A N K *
                                                                               …..TO BE CONTINUED
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petero1298 · 7 years
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     Some Things I’ve Learned Over The Last 30 Years      July 6, 2017              
Today marks 30 years since a confident young man walked into the back office of Schroder Investment Management in London, to start his first day on the job, the first in his career. Ask me a question back then and I would have answered assuredly and quickly. Today I’d be more likely to say ‘I don’t know’ with just as much confidence.
Now older, wiser, but with just as much hair, I have over the years seen many people come and go. Clients, colleagues, bosses, company mergers, bankruptcies (thankfully not my own), through bull and bear markets, booms, crashes, and have seen my own fortunes fluctuate too before setting out on my own a few years ago.
Thirty years is a long time. The good news is it was all worth it.
The first thing to point out is I don’t have all the answers. That’s not what this post is about. I’m always learning. But I have benefited enormously from people sharing their time and expertise, so if I can help others in the same way, I’m happy to share what I’ve learnt also.
These are 30 observations, guiding principles, or simply things that work for me. Some of you who have followed me for a while will recognize many of them. These aren’t universal truths, they’re my truths, my beliefs, shaped by my experience.
And that’s probably a good place to start.
“The more you believe something to be true, the more you will have accumulated evidence to support it.”
That’s a quote from trading coach Van Tharp, and I’ve applied it to so many areas as a simple way of explaining people’s expression of their beliefs, my own, and the realization of how powerful confirmation bias is. Van believes we don’t trade the markets, we trade our beliefs in the market. A trading system therefore is simply a set of beliefs, and I think he’s right.
Buy high, sell higher.
Buying a stock at x+1 can be a lower risk trade than buying it today at x. Forget buy low, sell high. When something is falling, it’s more likely to keep falling than it is to reverse, and vice versa. It’s called momentum, and along with value, it’s one of the most empirically proven anomalies to academic theory that the Nobel Prize winners wish would go away. Note to self: Look into buying value stocks that show upward momentum.
Trade small to win big.
All traders and investors need trend and time to profit. Even if you don’t consider yourself a trend-follower, no matter what your timeframe, to make money you need something to trend, even if it’s just a couple of ticks higher, you need price movement.
If you are a long-term trader, time is also your friend. Time allows trends to develop, persist, and time in big trends allows you to trade in smaller size. If you are a daytrader, time is your enemy. The clock is ticking, there’s only x minutes left in the session. You need greater frequency of trades, or you have to trade in greater size and take greater risk.
It amazes me that newcomers to trading choose to start with an area that instantly requires them to either trade more frequently, or in greater size through leverage or margin. It should be the other way around. Only after years of experience and having amassed a fortune should someone attempt such a thing, but of course they don’t. A successful trader or investor will continue to do what made them that money in the first place, and it won’t have been daytrading. 99% of daytraders (a conservative estimate) are under-capitalized and would do better to build up their savings instead of daytrading them.
Limit orders limit performance.
I once worked for a PM who always put on limit orders. It was like chasing a bar of soap around the bathtub. Sometimes weeks or months later the order would still be on our desk, but the stock would now be way way higher. You either want to own it or you don’t. Is a penny here or there really the difference between whether you want to own it or not? Because your limit order is potentially making it exactly that.
I’ve held stocks for over a year and looked back at when I bought it. I could have bought it the next day, the next week, open, close, whatever. It wouldn’t have made a whole lot of difference. Unless you’re trading Cliff Asness/AQR size, for goodness sake, quit playing games with the HFT pikers. Just buy it and move on.
I have never found a way to consistently make money shorting stocks.
If you’re starting out, put this one in the ‘too difficult’ pile until you have the time, energy, or intellectual curiosity to tackle it. Just know that even amongst CTAs, even though they are long/short many different futures markets, the short side of what they do rarely makes much money overall, it merely helps them perform well during ‘crisis alpha’ periods of non-correlation, and smooths the equity curve longer-term, but the lion’s share of performance comes from the long side. That’s futures. Stocks are even harder.
The best strategy is one you’ll stick with.
Or more correctly, the best strategy is the one that you’ll stick with and meets your objectives. There is no one way of investing that is suitable for everyone. There is only what’s right for you. Lots of things work. Buy and hold works. Value works. Momentum works. There are others too. Start with the evidence-based empirically-proven stuff. Find which one, or which combination works for you, in accordance with your timeframe, objectives, and investment horizon.
Buy and hold giving you 7% is fine, but if you can’t tolerate 50-60% drawdowns or trust yourself to not bail precisely when you should be adding any spare cash you have to it, then it’s not for you. Pick a strategy that delivers an acceptable return that won’t have you reaching for the sick bag when turbulence hits.
When to add.
Whether trading or investing, the simplest way to know how and when you should add to a position is to imagine you don’t already have a position. What would it take to get you in? That way you’ll be doing it for the right reasons, the same as your initial entry rationale, rather than reacting emotionally.
The best movie about trading is “Wall Street”, then “Trading Places”, then something else.
The vast majority of arguments on social media could be avoided if both sides simply declared at the outset what their timeframe is.
You mean we could have diametrically opposed views and yet both make money? Yes, that’s right.
No amount of reading or paper trading will prepare you for how it truly feels in the heat of battle.
There is a great scene in ‘Bridge On The River Kwai’ where Jack Hawkins brings a young soldier in and hands him a knife, asking him if he thinks he could use it in cold blood. The boy doesn’t know. “Well, at least he’s honest.” The fact is, none of us know until we face that enemy whether you can thrust that blade home or pull the trigger on your order.
Don’t blithely tell me your backtest says you would have taken that trade in ’87, or 2008/09. You don’t even know what the market liquidity would have been, whether you could trust the prices you’re seeing, or if you could even see any prices. You’ll know in your walk-forward.
I know, because I’ve been there and done it. Traded like an idiot with my own money in the ’87 crash, and have since safely navigated in various trading roles the LTCM collapse, the Asian crisis, the Dotcom crash, 9/11, the Global Financial Crisis, and most recently for myself and clients through a couple of flash crashes. I consider it an edge, one of the few that can never be taken from me. You can’t buy experience like that.
I can’t predict markets, and neither can you.
No, seriously, you can’t. No. You can’t.
Entries, exits, position size.
Watch any trading software ad and you’ll likely hear lots about getting entry signals. The perception is it’s more important than the others, but it’s not. I think exits are more important. A good exit signal doesn’t just get you out when needed, a really good exit signal keeps you in, staying just below the action and not triggering until the trend is over.
Look back at the entry of a successful position you’ve held for many months. How important was it to enter at that precise time, that day? It’s likely what followed was more important. What allowed you to tolerate the volatility and ride it higher to where it is now, making it the big winner it is. That’s all exits and position size, not entry.
Sure, without an entry there’s no trade, but it’s only the exit signal that determines whether in relation to that entry the trade is a winner or loser. Even more important, the position size will determine by how much. Entries merely determine the frequency of trades, or how many signals you have.
The longer your investment horizon, the higher your equity allocation should be to passive strategies.
Yes, I’m an active manager, but hear me out. If I have a 20-something come to see me as a prospect, I’m going to tell him to just put it in an index fund for 15bps and come back and see me when he’s over 40. Come on, the guy’s got 5 decades ahead of him. Go live your life, save, invest, have an emergency fund, put more cash to work every time the market plunges 25%-30%.
By the time he’s 50 and thinking about retirement however, those 30% plunges on that tidy sum he’s built up won’t look like the opportunities they once were. The percentages will be the same, but the nominal amounts will make it way scarier, seeing his hard-earned go up in smoke.
The closer you are to needing your money, or put another way, the less of an investment horizon you have remaining in which to recover losses, the higher your allocation to active strategies should be. By the time you are nearing retirement, your equity allocation should be 100% active, zero passive.
People tend to think in simple terms that passive = safe, and active = risky. The opposite is true. A truly passive strategy exposes you to 100% of the market’s drawdown. With passive you get what you pay for – zero risk management. Active management is risk management. That’s what you pay for. Risk management.
If you want to own oil, buy oil, don’t buy oil stocks.
If you want to own tech, buy a tech ETF, don’t buy Apple. Having a top-down macro view and then trying to apply it to a micro level is one of the hardest things to do. I did it once, and made a lot of money, but now realize it was mostly dumb luck. I have seen people make brilliant calls that were completely right but they lost money executing it horribly. Buy what it is you got your signal on, not where or how you think it might play out a second or third degree. One is quantitative, the other is a guess.
Hedging a position often increases risk instead of reducing it.
I’ve seen traders take on a position and then immediately look for something to hedge it with. Why? Just reduce your initial position. Or sometimes the exposure becomes too great. How can I hedge it? Why not just reduce it down to a more comfortable level? Size it correctly and it won’t need to be hedged, and you’ll also have more capital available.
I once had a boss on the prop desk who insisted on every position being hedged with the equivalent size in index futures. Absolutely insane. Now I’ve got one position I wanted and a whole load of futures I didn’t. He was a big Buffett fan. Insisted the only true measure of our performance was whether we beat the index or not. Weren’t we here just to make money for the firm? Apparently not. When I bought a utility that went up 5% but the index went up 10% over the same period (and I didn’t hedge) he said it was a bad trade.
I was a bit gung-ho and I let him get to me. When I left the desk I thanked him for making me a better trader. The look on his face! But I was serious, he challenged all my beliefs and as maddening as it was, it made me re-evaluate what it was I believed in and why. You should want to be challenged on everything you believe and be calm and comfortable in explaining it, and in fact, welcome any new information that disproves your existing position, so that you can immediately correct it.
The best book on trading is “Reminiscences Of A Stock Operator.”
It’s an obvious, popular, and cliched choice, but for good reason. Yes, its main protagonist committed suicide, and it’s written in archaic language, but it’s because the stories are from a hundred years ago, and that’s precisely why it appeals. The lessons stand the test of time. The stocks, companies, and players change, but human nature never changes. We’re all human, even millennials.
“If it’s so good, why would they sell it?”
This is one of the most egregious fallacies in the finance periphery. Why would they sell it? Why do you think? Do the math. Let’s take an example of an area where this is most commonly targeted; newsletter writers or subscription services. Imagine for a moment a trader has a $1m portfolio. He makes on average 10% a year, or $100k. That’s his trading income. If he also runs a subscription service that sells for a $1000 a year, he can get an additional $100k a year with 100 subs. That’s very nice passive income.
Now I used $1m in my example. In reality most traders are capitalized at $100k or less. They would only need 10 subscribers to get the same return. If they had 100 subs, it would match their entire portfolio value! The question then becomes not “If it’s so good why would they sell it?” but instead “If it’s so good, why wouldn’t they sell it?”
And it’s also grossly unfair to limit this logic to newsletter/sub services. If hedge fund managers are so good, why do they need clients? We know why. The fees. They can make way more from managing other people’s money than just their own. It’s the exact same principle.
I’ve seen many people get tarred with this brush unfairly, especially in the area of technical research, and yet fundamental research with its dire record gets a pass. I’ve seen it firsthand too. If you give something away for free people think it can’t be worth anything. If you charge for it “If it’s so good, why would you sell it?”
Broker research is mostly redundant.
There are many excellent analysts that no doubt create value for others, but the ratings systems are useless and as analysts they are being assessed incorrectly. Buy/Sell/Hold means nothing. There are so few Sell ratings. They are terrified of not getting corporate business. Broker X upgrades XYZ from Sell to Hold. How do I hold it after you recommended I sell it? Shouldn’t you move to a Buy rating first? Neutral/Outperform/Underperform. Overweight. Yes I am.
The only way it would make sense is if you asked the analyst to rank all his buy ratings. So you cover the tech sector and you have 50 names with a buy rating. That doesn’t help me. How about you rank them 1-50 for me? Now we’re talking. That could be useful. Buy the top one, short the worst, let’s see if he’s any good.
Price targets are also mostly redundant.
Under the guise of assigning their fair value to a company, price targets are simply a way for an analyst to stay in front of clients in a name and reiterate or update their research periodically without necessarily changing their rating. It’s a useful tool for them, but unless you’re also a value investor where a specific value would cause you to act, for the rest of us it’s just another unwelcome noise item that anchors you to a price in the market, and tempts you to act when you should instead just follow whatever your existing plan or strategy is.
If you want to own the strongest stocks, buy the strongest stocks.
Buy something that’s already doing what you want it to. Going up.
The closing price is the most important price.
Let me qualify that. I have likely said before that it’s all that matters but that’s not true. The close is the most significant, simply because so many other investors or traders act off it for end of day signals.
I like to think of the trading day as a jury deciding what a stock is worth that day. The opening statements are heard, and the intraday prices from the high to low reflect the arguments being made throughout the session. The close is the verdict. That’s what stock XYZ is worth today. Record the verdict. Price the mutual funds. Put it in the paper.
I’ve heard people place more emphasis on intraday extremes, but why? The high and low are likely the two lowest volume prints of the entire session, and therefore arguably the two least important. You could argue they provide support/resistance levels, but again by volume I would think the closing price is a better reflection of where most people are gathered or potentially anchored so it has more significance.
And let’s clear something else up. I’ve heard people say amateurs open the market, pros close it. OK, let’s assume for a minute that’s true. Which price would you rather take your trading signal from, and who would you rather trade against? Amateurs or pros? I take my signals from the close and trade at the next day’s open.
For high net worth individuals there is no need for a specific allocation to bonds.
I’m biased. I’ve been an equities guy for 30 years, but seriously, if you don’t need the income/interest, why allocate to bonds or treasuries at all? You can get exposure via a managed futures strategy. If there’s a meaningful sustained trend, up or down, you’ll catch it, and in 30yr, 10, 5, 2, and even German, Japanese too. You could allocate 50% to Managed Futures, 50% to Equities, and allocate that equity portion to passive/active strategies depending on your age, or maybe a combination of value and momentum. 50% Equities, 50% Futures, covering Trend Following, Momentum, and Value. You don’t need bonds.
If you want to perform differently to the index, you have to invest differently to the index.
When I worked as an assistant to a Portfolio Manager at Schroders we had client portfolios that had something like 60 stocks or more in Japan alone, and that might only be 25% of the entire portfolio. I’d see a stock do really well and it barely made a blip of difference to the portfolio. After a while I would understand there are many playing this game of marginal differences in portfolio structure, overweight this, underweight that. The market goes down 20%, your fund is down 19%. Yay, you beat your benchmark and get a bonus. The incentives are all wrong. Relative returns is a game I know I have no interest in playing.
In my days at Kemper/Zurich/Scudder they had more concentrated portfolios where the stock selection mattered more, and then I got to do that to an even greater extreme as a prop trader at Lehman where you may only have two or three positions, whatever it is you want. It’s not even considered a portfolio. I typically held 8-10 and often do the same now. Through a combination of all these factors, reading material like Van Tharp’s position sizing strategies, and Howard Marks’ letters, I’ve become very comfortable with a highly-concentrated portfolio and all the parameters and performance distribution that entails.
Stocks don’t follow economic theory. They follow socionomic theory.
This is why when a stock goes up people will want to buy more of it. And when it goes down people will sell. That’s not how it works with traditional economic laws of supply and demand. When the price of shoes go up, people don’t rush out to buy more. And when they go on sale people don’t run out of the store. In a supermarket consumers act rationally and logically, but there are no consumers or producers of stocks, there are only investors, and investors herd and are emotional and irrational.
Price is sentiment.
There are some variants to this. Price is truth. Only price pays. I think the way I would phrase it is that price accurately reflects prevailing sentiment. Some think it’s supply and demand, I think it’s Socionomics/social mood, but regardless, whether you believe it’s wrong that it’s trading up at $100 when your fair value is $50, it’s irrelevant. If you want to trade it, the price is $100. You may think it’s wrong, but that is the price. In terms of reflecting current sentiment, price is always right.
I’m ready for what’s next.
I have no idea what the market will do tomorrow, what the next payrolls number will be, or when the Fed will next raise rates, and frankly I don’t care. News is noise. All I know is I will follow my plan. It took me 25 years to work that out. You’re welcome.
I am responsible for everything that happens to me.
Everything. Good and bad, but this mostly comes into play for something bad. You won’t find me blaming the Fed, QE, HFT, or any conspiracy nonsense if my portfolio performs badly. The outcome is a result of my decisions. That bad trade was my stock selection, my execution, my choice of broker, all my decisions that led to that outcome. If it’s something I enacted it always comes back to me. If it’s something that happened to me, it’s because I put myself in that situation. If it’s something my child did, it’s something I allowed them to be doing. Everything is a risk. Getting up, going out, crossing the road, but ultimately I am responsible for everything that happens to me.
People really appreciate honesty.
It might sound obvious, but from the reaction I get it suggests there’s not enough of it around. I’ve made a conscious effort to say “I don’t know” when I don’t know. It can be quite empowering. When I’ve talked about positions or trades on social media, I’ve made a point of following up when things haven’t gone so well. It’s one of the hardest things for me to do. But it’s only right. You can’t just sing when you’re winning. The losing periods are when I least feel like writing something, but when I most need to, because it’s also when anyone who’s been paying attention to anything I say will most need to hear it too.
“All cruelty springs from weakness.”
Social media is a tough arena. I slip up sometimes and get sucked into some troll’s orbit, and on the occasions it’s happened, even when I’ve sent someone packing with their tail between their legs, the short-term satisfaction soon gives way to wishing I hadn’t responded.
When I’m driving and I’m getting frustrated with someone in front of me I imagine I know the person. It’s amazing how it changes how you react. In a similar vein, on twitter now I try to talk to people as you would if having a conversation face to face. Be nice. We all have off days. You never know what’s going on in people’s lives. Everyone’s going through something.
When you’re young, you have so much time but never enough money. When you’re old you have money but never enough time.
How you perceive and value time and money will change many times throughout your life, but at the end there’s only one you’ll want more of, would give anything for, but it won’t be available at any price. Cherish it while you can.
Thanks for being a part of my journey. Here’s to the next 30 years.
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realfinemood · 7 years
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Ryder Appreciation Week Meme!
Questions are from here. I’m going to do all of them instead of waiting for asks because apparently I have A LOT of stuff I want to say about Gwendolyn Ryder.
1. Does your Ryder like their father?
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It’s complicated. She loves him, because… he’s her dad. But she can’t really say she particularly liked him. That would require him actually being around, or being present when he was. She can admit that she worked harder in school partly out of a desire for his approval, but the fact that she was more interested in science and tech than becoming an N7 like him didn’t really help. The fact that Scott tried even harder for his approval and still failed bothered her more than anything. She’s not a big fan of how he treats other people in general. (She knows she’s not super great with emotions either, but she likes to think she handles it better.)
It was getting better with the Initiative, though she had to work through her own anger that Dad’s work had ruined her own standing with a career she loved. That he saved her life at the cost of his own is a shock to her, one that she feels completely guilty about, and the fact that she can’t talk to Scott - the only person who’d really understand - makes it worse. The memories make things even more confusing, and hearing Cora talk about things she really should already know makes her feel even more guilty, but it’s at least made her understand her father a bit more.
2. How does your Ryder feel about their sibling?
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Gwendolyn adores her baby brother. She knows she’s not really older than him in any important way, but she’s always been overprotective of him, even more so the more distant Dad grew. (Scott grumbles about it, but knows that’s her way of showing she cares.) Growing up they were partners in crime, but she’d always take the blame and claimed she talked him into it, especially if Mom was particularly mad about whatever it was. When they got older and he got a bit angrier/more emotional, she’d often let him just vent at her about everything, or bail him out when needed.
3. If given the chance, do you think your Ryder would be a good Nexus Director?
Not remotely. She didn’t fly 600 years to a different galaxy just to sit around playing school principal. The politics she has to deal with as Pathfinder are bad enough, thanks.
4. What’s your Ryder’s favorite weapon?
Gwen’s not really a weapon fangirl in any way? But when she saw that she could make a Black Widow that wouldn’t break her arm to use, she had to have it. That and whatever pistol she can find works for her.
5. What’s your Ryder’s fighting style/class? (biotic sniper can be a thing now!)
Her main fighting style is "build as manly tech toys as she can.” Her omnitool back in the Milky Way was modded with everything she could think up, but she needed a new one to integrate with Sam and the scanner. When she figured out how to get a flamethrower from it, it was love. When she got a shiny Remnant VI to replace her turret, Peebee became her new best friend. 
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6. Does your Ryder get along well with Tann, Addison, Kandros or Kesh?
She sympathized with Tann at first - having a job that you’re not remotely prepared for? Totally understand. But the political bullshit got old fast. She gave Addison shit but knew she was completely right to distrust her ability to be Pathfinder. After having to do clean up on so many of her screw-ups though, Ryder’s general opinion of Addison is just to roll her eyes. Kandros is great - the fact that he knew everything that was going on was a lot for her and offered her a friendly shoulder meant a lot, even if they don’t agree on much. She really likes Kesh and considers her a friend, which is why the fact that even she didn’t stand up for her about going to Meridian hurt more than she expected it to.
7. Is your Ryder good at driving the Nomad?
She is and her squad can shut it. No but really, she drives fine. A slight tendency to drive up things that are clearly too steep to be climbed, but that’s what six wheels are for and you never know until you try, right?
8. What is the one Pathfinder task that your Ryder hates?
The speeches Addison makes her give everytime they start up an outpost. There’s things to explore and science to do and the galaxy is at least a tiny bit more stable. Either people will see that or they won’t, she doesn’t really get how making an awkward speech about it will help. Keri’s interviews she gets and just telling the truth is easy enough. But the speeches are time she could be spending doing literally anything else, and surely there’s people who could do a much better job of explaining.
She also hates that she has to spend some much time killing remnant instead of studying them, though that seems to be more an “existing in Adromeda” thing than a Pathfinder thing. She’s trying to take Peebee’s “can’t study them if they kill me” motto to heart.
9. What does your Ryder enjoy about being a Pathfinder?
She gets to initiate first contact with an alien species and explore vaults and alien planets before almost anyone else from the Milky Way. That is amazing and she’s definitely not taking it for granted.
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10. How does your Ryder feel about the memories they unlocked?
Seeing Mom again hurt like hell. She always told Scott that of course Dad loved Mom, he was just grieving differently, but she never really 100% believed it until she watched them. Which brought more guilt of course, and more anger that he could just be with her instead of obsessing over Sam fixing her, but it was good to actually see that for herself. The fact that they could one day get Mom back is… something she’s putting off thinking about.
11. Does your Ryder consider SAM a friend/sibling/…?
Sam was Dad’s little project that screwed over her career and the thing he’d obsess about instead of spending what little time she had left with Mom. Once he’s in her head, well. Not much she can do about it, so might as well accept it, and it’s not like she can blame him anyways. She quickly grows to trust him and “friend” is probably a good word for it, though she’s more fascinated by the process of an AI learning and comparing her and her father’s actions. And teaching him her terrible sense of humor is a nice bonus.
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12. What’s your Ryder’s favorite location in Andromeda?
Havarl. Not only is it gorgeous, but the ecology and the mutation of it is fascinating. She’s glad the council didn’t force the issue of putting a colony there, but she does which she could spend more time with the scientist there to study everything that’s going on.
13. If your Ryder could give one gift to their LI (if there is one!), what would they give?
The idea that she could find it when Vetra and all her contacts couldn’t is ridiculous, but she definitely recruited Sid into a fruitless attempt to find that ugly lamp Vetra wanted so much. She attempted making one and it was so terrible but Vetra loved it anyway, once she was done hysterically laughing at it.
14. How does your Ryder feel about the fight between Kallo and Gil?
She gets why Gil did what he does, and she quite frankly agreed with him. No matter how good Kallo’s team was, Andromeda brought things they couldn’t have expected. But that didn’t give him a license to be a dick to Kallo about it, or to not share with the rest of the crew when he changed things, or to make those changes while they were in flight. By all means, fix what needs fixing. But actually remember other people have value too.
15. What does your Ryder think about Shepard?
(I have no idea if this lines up with the timeline, but I’m going with it.) Gwendolyn and Scott were on the Citadel during the geth attack, though their ward was locked away from the real action. They only have news reports and friend-of-a-friend second hand stories, but she knows that Shepard and her team are what saved the day. Even if the council dying meant the Citadel got a little less fun for humans afterwards, she still thinks Shepard was pretty badass.
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16. Does your Ryder like the other Pathfinders?
Definitely. She can’t help but feel empathy for people scared and still helping or working despite their grief. She doesn’t know Hayjer as well as Vederia and Avitus, but the fact that they all stepped up and supported her means a hell of a lot.
17. What is the one lesson your Ryder learned in Andromeda?
Planning things out and taking time to think them through is great, but it’s also a luxury. She was always a look before you leap kind of person, but Andromeda has taught her the interesting new strategy of “no one else has a clue, so wing it and figure out how much trouble you’re in later.”
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18. What is the hardest thing your Ryder had to do in their life?
Leaving Scott to go pathfind. It was hard enough leaving him behind when it was only going to be a short trip. But taking off in the Tempest made her feel like she was abandoning him. Sure, there was nothing she could have done, and he was in good hands with Harry, but she was supposed to protect him and she couldn’t help feeling like she’d massively failed.
19. Does your Ryder like memes?
Absolutely. She makes sure to share the best ones with Liam and the most annoying ones with the entirety of the Tempest.
20. Which song would represent your Ryder well?
A combination of Fake It Till You Make It by BRIIA and Journey (Ready to Fly) by Natasha Blume.
And another meme because I can, I did this archetypes quiz with Gwendolyn:
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And one with Lalla Shepard cause why not:
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