Lonely as the Snow...

Friday the 13th was today and amazingly enough, I had a great day. Work went pretty well--training played out smoothly and I survived quite well despite having been thrown into the proverbial shark tank. And yet, here I am sitting in my home--safe, warm, and comfortable. Admittedly, I am a bit tired and have every intention of showering in the next dozen minutes, but my heart seems hollow, as if a "vacancy" sign has been thrown up. Indeed, the only thing that occurred to me since the last blog I wrote has been some precipitation in the form of snow.

Snow... to me, it is the world falling apart. As far as I am concerned, the snow is merely the debris of the crashing world; the cold that it brings, the slippery roads that it creates, the accidents that it causes. Sometimes I wish I were in the tropical islands so I could avoid the icy hell that it creates. I would take the rain over the snow almost any day. Almost. You see, for me, every time it snows, I get lonely for some reason. It may be a function of events that took place in my past (see my other blog post, "My Willpower (from the Past)") or it may be a function of all of those Christmas flicks that I end up watching by myself when it snows because I have nothing better to do. I don't know. Two things I do know though, are: one, whenever it snows I wish I had a girlfriend by my side to hold; two, despite its purity, the snow is a dark and bittersweet chocolate.

Wouldn't you agree, it's beautiful isn't it? I have to admit, I love the wintry scene that it creates. The snow envelopes the world in its own image of its own ideal beauty. As it snows, I look up to the nearest lamppost and watch as the snowflakes cover the ground. To me, the view is comparable to watching angels gliding to and fro before finally -- gracefully -- touching down upon the ground. It's a level of purity that is unrivaled by even that of a newborn child. If you enjoy watching ballets, you'll agree with me on this. For everyone else, the snow may seem like a mother as it slows the world down to a crawl and reminds people to take shelter from the cold. And even in the coldest and wettest of snowstorms, there will still be a good soul who will extend his or her hand to a fellow stranger. Only in the coldest of times will we see the most heartwarming events take place. To me, that is worth the cold.

So whenever it snows, even with a fire in my soul and a beauty in my eyes, my isolated heart will beat like the rain on an abandoned oil drum. I guess, right now and for the foreseeable future, I will look to the sky whenever the flurry white flakes fall, enchanted and haunted by the beauty and purity that it continues to bring. This is the one time in my life when I genuinely wish I had a beautiful woman by my side to cherish, both in the moment and for the moment...

My Willpower (from the Past)

In 1998, I was in the 7th grade. It was the one year in my entire childhood where the schools closed on account of bad weather. You would expect the schools to be closed more frequently given the fact that I lived in the mountains of Colorado during my adolescent years, but that only happened once in my 12 years of school. Regardless, I remember the time when my patience was grid-iron despite a challenging time and though I had a reputation for being a "hot-head," I also had the ability to wait forever. Where has my willpower gone? How did I lose it in the first place? What was it that I had that made me stronger then instead of today? Let's see how much I remember...

It was the week before the giant blizzard. We had accrued plenty of snow that year -- so much that plow trucks had built us a giant fort just by piling it all in one area of the parking lot. We had lots and lots of snow and even though the roads were supposed to be cleared for people picking up their kids, they weren't and in fact, all of the buses chained up their tires. I remember it being like any other winter afternoon that day. The school bell rang, I left my class, grabbed my books, and headed outside to the cloudy and gray outdoors. Sometimes my parents would arrive before I could leave, sometimes they would arrive afterwards. Because this was the norm, I didn't think too much when I did not see my parent's car outside. Rather, I spent most of the time just chatting with my friends. Half an hour quickly passed by and by this time, the school premise was fairly vacant. My friends had all caught their respective buses or parents while I continued to loiter the school grounds. I considered stepping back into the school doors to stay warm but ultimately, I avoided doing so fearing that I would miss my parents if I did. About 10 minutes later as I was rubbing my hands together to keep warm, the school intercom called me to the office for an important message. I thought, "Wow, look at me! I'm so important they called me to the office!" Without a second thought, I bolted towards the main entrance and headed towards the main office. There, I had a phone call from my sister. What she reported turned my blood colder than the arctic temperatures of the north pole. Our parents were in a car accident. A semi-truck merged into their lane forcing the car off of the bridge. My brain stopped functioning and the next few sentences drowned out on the phone. The only clear instruction was to go to the public bus station, wait for the next bus to arrive, and return home immediately. I was equally as worried as I was scared. But that didn't matter, my mission was clear: get to the bus stop and return home as soon as possible. What happened to mom, to dad? Were they together when they left? Where are they now? Are they in the hospital? No, they couldn't be. They had to be at home because otherwise my sister wouldn't tell me to go home... Right?

So, my instincts took over as my brain stayed in its infinite waltz. I returned the phone to the school staff and bowed politely to them. A confused expression grew upon their faces as I turned to walk away. Due to the fact that students were all gone, most of the snow plows stopped trying to clear the roads by now. Regardless, I trekked to the nearest bus stop in the chilling cold, about a block away from my school. There, my body sat itself down on a frozen metal bench and waited. Alone. I was so alone. Even in thought, my instincts noticed how very few cars were driving by. Normally, as this was next to the mall and on the highway, it would be more crowded. But neither the absence of traffic nor the layer of snow covering my body mattered. My parent's car just fell off the bridge.

When I finally saw the bus arrive, I came back to earth and realized just how cold I was. I quickly signaled the bus with my frozen hand and jumped aboard. With my frozen fingers, it took me a many seconds to find a way to pay for the fare as I fumbled for my wallet. Finally seizing the only bill I had, I turned to the driver and asked, "Does this machine give back change?" The bus driver pointed to a sign and said, "Sorry, this is the express bus. It only takes prepaid tickets." On that note, I was told to jump off and wait for the second bus. Without thinking to ask how long it would take (as if that somehow mattered), I walked back out and returned to the bench. This time, it was colder than I remembered and the only thing that kept me company was my brain running through all of the worse-case scenarios possible. I wrapped the collars of my jacket in closer to my face as I tried to hide myself in my thoughts and what was supposed to be a warm coat.

Many more minutes passed. Finally, a second bus showed up. It slowed to a stop in front of me as the chained tires were failing to grip on the icy road. This one was clearly different than the previous one as it had all sorts of gadgets. I noticed one showing the temperature outside. 20 degrees. Regardless, my instincts took me aboard. It even noticed the sign saying, "Exact change only" and then it prompted me to ask the driver, "Excuse me sir, do you have change for a $20 bill?" The man just shook his head and apologized profusely. He told me that I would have to give the exact fare or he would not go on. Now, I felt like my brain was thawing and finally, it I should be embarrassed. So, nervously, I shrugged and turned around and walked off the warm bus. I sat back down on the metallic bench realizing just how cold the bench was. Using what little curse words I knew to release my frustration about everything that was happening, I squat back down on the bench to prevent my bum from freezing. I couldn't feel my fingers, my face, or even the inordinate amount of snow on my back. It didn't matter though.

Somehow, I didn't notice the girl from my school walk towards me. When I did, I tried to strike up a conversation with her. In my pre-pubescent and frustrated voice, I informed her authoritatively that she would need exact change to get on the bus or have a prepaid ticket to jump aboard. In her sweet innocence, she smiled a toothy smile covered with braces and said, "Thanks, but I got my ticket here." I simply looked at her. I couldn't tell if my mouth was hanging open or not because I was just too numb and my brain felt numb. Really, I was also quite tired and just wanted to sleep. After a few seconds pause, she spoke again and said, "Looks like we just missed the bus huh?" I snapped out of my daze and said, "Yeah, I hope the next driver can break my twenty." She told me that while she didn't have change, she could find somebody that did. Looking at her wristwatch and then at the streets, she invited me with her to the restaurant on the other side of the road. It was just a fast food restaurant, nothing extravagant. But here she took me in to the empty place and asked the only cashier working for change. On that note, she beckoned me for my twenty. I obliged feeling my brain tingle as if it was thawing. My face must've been glowing with glee as I received back the change. The girl then said, "Let's go sit down for a while. Like, we have another 20 minutes 'til the next bus comes by, you know? Let's hang out so we don't freeze to death... So, how long were you out there for?" I looked around for a clock and told her I didn't know when I failed to find one. I could only say that I was there since I got a message from my sister at school. Her jaw dropped in shock as she exclaimed, "Was that when they called you on the intercom?! 'Cause that was over 2 hours ago! Didn't you even notice how dark it got? Weren't you cold out there?" Her compassion was really flattering and I didn't know how to respond--probably because my brain and my tongue were both still thawing. Was it really two hours ago? Gosh, no wonder I was tired. She broke the silence as she said, "No wondering you were cussing. I'm impressed that you could stay out there for so long, but hopefully, you don't get a cold!" As our conversation continued a bit further, the alarm on her watch chimed and she told us to quickly return to the bus stop in order to catch the next bus. Opening the door to leave the place, it felt much colder than before and the snow and engulfed the bench by now. By the time we made it back to the bus stop, the bus arrived. From here, things went much smoother. I was able to get on, had exact change and didn't need a prepaid ticket, and continued the conversation for another 30 minutes until she arrived at her stop. After she got off, I stayed on the bus for a few more stops until I could reach my destination and make it home.

As the day continued, I found out that my parents were both safe. The car was forced off the bridge due to a semi-truck merging into their lane and pushing them off the bridge. Though neither vehicle was going very fast, the car took all of the damage and my parents stayed safe despite being landing in a snowy ditch underneath. It was pretty miraculous. Though the car was stuck, neither had to go to the ER or doctor's office for anything. And in those days when we didn't have a cell phone, all my parents could do was ask try and flag drivers for help. One person did and seeing everybody was safe, went to a public store somewhere and left a message on our answering machine at home. As for my parents, they waited for a tow-truck to pull the car out of the ditch.

Because of that time, I had noticeably developed an iron-will that was incapable of being demolished. I even went so far as to sleep on the floor of a closet as a testament to my level of strength. This was ultimately short-lived as I no longer have that level of strength. Unfortunately, there are even some days now when it is 40 degrees and I am caught wearing two layers of clothing! Why? I suppose my strength was drawn from my love of my family. Anymore, it seems like that may not be the case. And, quite literally for the life of me, I cannot seem to go to that level of strength and love for my family as I had before in my life. What is wrong with me? Did I die a little inside somehow? I think it may be something regarding my character or my perspectives. Optimism? Pessimism? A lack of ethics? None of those have changed. It's more like complacency. Hm... That sounds more accurate. So, when I had more passion back in the day, what was that passion for, where did it come from? Certainly, a part of it was to make my family proud, but what else was it? I'll see if I can remember and put it in another blog next time...

The Perfect Interaction?

I feel the search for the missing piece of my heart should start with a positive experience from my high school years. This one specifically made an impression on me and I feel was a paradigm of sorts that began to make me a different man. I may seem to be making the experience more important or more impressionable than it actually was, but honestly, I think you will understand after you read more about it.

To understand why this was so life-changing, first understand that I was a sophomore (or in my second year of high school) at that time. Up to this point of my life, I built a reputation of being a smart and brainy teen... the kind that others liked only when they found me stuffed in a locker. How much of a loser was I? Well, my entire day would be made when an attractive woman would smile or even say hi to me, even if it was done accidentally. I could also go whole days without uttering a single word in school, for better or worse. For worse actually; I carried around a hand-made chessboard (meticulously crafted from a plain 8.5x11 sheet of paper) so I could play during lunch to pass time. Or, in lieu of leaving early because we weren't given that privilege in high school, I would play my against myself after an exam. Perhaps this was the reason for others' perception that I was an intellectual because before long, I found myself involuntarily enrolled in an algebra class normally reserved for college-bound seniors (or twelfth-year students). Chalk it up to my reputation and my hard work because ultimately, I felt like I was always struggling...

Now that you understand the backdrop, I can take you through my experience. A bit cliche, but it did begin like any other day. I finished my exam relatively early with dozens of minutes to spare. As always, I brought out my chessboard and began playing a game where I was sure to be both the victor and the loser. I don't remember the exam very well, but I do recall that it was a 5-problem test that was meant to be completed in 50-60 minutes. With the right understanding of the material however, the problems were nothing more than solving for x using logarithms so if you knew how to do it, it would only take a handful of minutes. So, I was able to play more than one game. In fact, a few games later, I quickly grew restless and bored. After all, you can only take so much of chess before your head explodes, right? That's when I began to notice one particular student sitting beside me. And why wouldn't I notice? She was sighing and groaning and shifting around uncomfortably in her desk and was distracting me from my game. Every now and again, I could hear her utter under breath, "I don't know how to do this!" I wanted to help her, I really did. I couldn't bear to see or hear her struggle on the test but after all, a test was a test and because I could not help her, I tried to ignore her by putting on my headphones and turning on my cd player (yes, mp3 players were around but were not yet the norm). Still it bugged me so much it stuck with me through every move I made.

Despite blaring loud and obnoxious music into my ears, I still kept noticing her out of the corner of my eye. After all, she was unbelievably beautiful, both in benevolence and physical attractiveness. I would wager that she was the most gorgeous woman in the entire school and that every man in our small mountain city would give an arm and a leg just to take her out on a date... that is, assuming she ever agreed to it. If you need a mental picture, think of her this way: she had the charm of a banker, the benevolence of a non-profit worker, and the looks of a supermodel. She was also fair in intelligence, a very down-to-earth type of person if you will. Still, up until this point of my life, I had never uttered even a simple, whispered 'hello' or 'goodbye' to her. Because courage was lacking in my heart, they were words she would never hear from me. However, the heavens were kind as the desks we sat in were like the economy seats of an airplane. You see, she was on my immediate left, but unlike traditional classrooms however, her desk was perpendicular to my own resulting in her looking in my direction whenever her head was up. And I'm not going to lie, it made me even more nervous and have even less self-esteem and courage. The only escape from making eye contact (which would result in certain doom in the back of my mind) was indeed my chessboard and my music.

From the other side of the class, another soul was equally nervous and troubled. Nobody realized it until he was grew so jittery that he let loose an audible flatulence that could be heard around the world. The response was an uproar of hearty and boisterous laughter rivaling that of the passing wind itself. It wasn't funny to me, and in fact, the ensuing laughter kind of annoyed me. After all, all of it came through my thunderous music because I had cheap headphones. However, it seemed the attractive woman was too far displaced into her own world because when she looked up, she looked confused. She may even have asked others what was going on, but it seemed she couldn't get anybody's attention. Without shifting my head to look, or shifting my eyes from the game at hand, I noticed her eyes racing frantically around the room searching for the puzzle piece that would explain the class's amusement. However, nobody noticed her, not even the professor... So without thinking, and, without raising my eyes or my head from the chess game, I leaned slightly over and whispered, "x equals 3." Nobody heard or saw me through the calamity. While I didn't know which problem she was struggling with, it just felt right somehow. I noticed her eyes stop for a moment, fixed now only on me as if she was trying to see what or how "x equals 3" could possibly have made the others laugh. So I said two more words: "Trust me." All of this occurred in a matter of seconds during the class's chaos.

Well, she paused for a second, a bit stunned, then looked back on her exam, then back at me, then back on the exam. Without saying a word, she wrote what I told her for the final answer and continued struggling with the problem a bit more. Afterwards, the professor restored order and all was quiet once more. The attractive woman stood up and approached the professor. Now, I looked up because I was worried she'd tell the professor, "S is cheating!" However, the conversation itself went something along the lines of, "I'm having trouble with this problem. I can get the answer, but I can't figure out how to show my work and keep getting the answer differently from what you taught us. What am I doing wrong?" The professor responded with, "It looks like you had all of the right first steps. So far, [with] the tests that I've graded, everybody's struggled with this so we'll review it on Monday. But, you did a very good job. You got the right answer. With the tests I've looked over, only you and S have correctly solved this problem so far. Good work."

Having heard that, I sighed out of relief and slumped in my seat. With my eyes to the ceiling, I remember thinking, "What was I thinking?? What would've happened if she snitched on me? Wait... was I really cheating? Maybe it was her that was cheating. After all, she did raise her head and look around the room. Maybe she was looking at other people's papers. Yeah, that's it... No way would she do that! She's better than that! Oh well, no use stressing 'bout it, nothing happened." After thinking all of this, I sat back upright and honed my senses back to the game. I didn't notice how she continued walking past her desk and how she stopped where I was sitting, just smiling her beautiful smile. Unexpectedly and seemingly out of nowhere, she gave me a big hug like what you see in the movies. If you need a reference, it looked like the end of the Final Fantasy X video game where the protagonist hugs the main female lead (except she was the protagonist and I was, well... the female lead in this case!). Now, the whole class just kind of stopped doing their test and gasped. The professor was helping out another student with a last minute question and didn't even notice. It was really surreal. It was as if even the time stopped to gasp. And me? My eyes stayed on the chessboard because I was shocked. I could feel her arms over my narrow chest and shoulders, but I was too surprised to turn my head or my eyes and did not elicit any reaction or emotion. She noticed this because she gently tugged away my headphone on my left ear and whispered, "Thank you." Still very much in a daze, I could only muster, "My pleasure."

After class got out, the girls asked her what was going on and the guys asked me what that was all about. Normally, I would've just been ignored before and after class. And I don't know how she responded to everybody, but when I was asked,I responded with, "Oh, she wanted to thank me for helping her out." One peer, who was a very strange fellow and deeply in love with the girl, even offered to buy my shirt for $20 right then and there. Honestly, I would've taken the offer too, but it was my favorite shirt! Pretty soon, my name went around the school and well... it was a pretty cool feeling. It was short-lived and ended very quickly but at least I have the story to remember. Indeed it was worth it!

In looking back today, I believe it was my heart that led the way. With a good heart came a good experience and a great memory. I didn't want to see her struggle or anybody else struggle, and by doing something, I got something great in return; a memory of the only time I ever did everything right with a beautiful girl. But, I know it in my heart that even today, I am still a good man doing good things. Is it that the good things I do are less fulfilling? I doubt it. Maybe it's that I'm not making enough good memories anymore. Possibly, but I did just come home from a trip around the world so that might not be right either. Still, stuff like this doesn't happen to me anymore. Why? What am I doing wrong? I don't know, and I don't expect you to know either. But maybe the fact that this was the only time I directly helped a girl and directly did something right with a girl is something to be said in and of itself. So... I don't know but I think I'll do some more digging into my past to see if I can find out what it is I am lacking in life today that I had back when I was younger.

Any comments and/or observations would be greatly appreciated, thanks!

Mid-Life Crisis or Depression?

Honestly, I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. Though I'm doing a million times better today than I was this time last year, there is still a gaping hole in the middle of my heart. I'm not sure what went wrong and I'm not sure why I feel this way. I'm only 23 and it seems like it's much too early to have a mid-life crisis. Is it depression? That's possible, but I'm not sure about that either. Let's be frank: I'm surrounded by laughter, love, and happiness. So... in an effort to try and find what it is that's missing in my heart, I'm going to look back and review my life. I feel like I've made my life worth living, maybe it's time to prove it.

So, let's start with high school...

Amid the Fall of Wachovia and WaMu

I can safely tell the world that I definitely called this one. It's not that whoever laughs last laughs best, but rather that we shouldn't be laughing at one another's demise at all. As a finance guy, I have been following the current turmoil faced by our current economic status. I felt that despite Wachovia's hard work that they too would be subject to failure and that no financier, not even the undersecretary for the US Treasury could turn it around.

Wachovia was a little more susceptible than others because Wachovia for one, only had their cash flows to rely upon. Even there, their cash flows were like a stream that was drying up. I wrote about Morgan Stanley in a stock analysis a couple days back and stated that in the end, Wachovia would benefit more from a merger of equals than Morgan Stanley. Why? Because Morgan Stanley already had assets. Their assets were a few hundred billion. Even if Morgan Stanley went belly-under and had to liquidate everything, the fact that they could make back even as much as a few billion was enough to say that they were still going to be okay. Wachovia on the other hand ran into a situation where they only had cash flows, that is future cash flows, to rely upon. Be that as it may, a future cash flow in the accounting world is an asset by definition of FASB no. 7, but it is also a discounted asset making it worth less. From that analysis, I felt that Wachovia didn't have any real assets and were in a lot of danger if their debtors came knocking at the door. After all, how would you respond if the person who owed you $100 said they would pay you when they got paid?

I tried to warn people. That is, people that I knew and cared about. I told them that if they really wanted the opportunity to make money, they would have to go to the where the money would be, not where the money currently was. It makes perfect sense and yes, it was borrowed from Wayne Gretzky saying he got really good because skated to where the puck would be. Now, I think the puck is currently sitting around in precious metals and commodities. I, for one, would have made a lot of money on gold. However, due to my circumstances, I didn't. So did anybody I know make money off of gold? Yes. Mom, dad, aunt, uncles... They followed my advice. Well, sort of. My mom and dad didn't follow my advice entirely because my dad's Midas Touch turned gold into... well, success. They predicted the markets and played it well. He rode it out from when gold was $600 per troy ounce and is now enjoying himself in retirement. Previously, it was a forced retirement because nobody would hire him (in the US, others would consider it age discrimination).

Regardless, the ship has sailed. Where it will go to, that would depend. In these uncertain times, I am sure that figuratively speaking the ship will return to stocks someday, but for now, it is going to be in the commodities markets and will make it to the forex markets. How long it will stay in each, I honestly cannot predict. Yet.

Good Music :)

This is not mine, nor is it my channel. I found this off of YouTube and really thought it was quite entertaining, so much so that it gets a special place here in my blogger world! Yeah, I bet that if I ever meet a woman that can play this song (but in a different manner that is more passionate than this) I would fall in love with her. Yep. Read more about "The Perfect Woman" in one of my other postings from this same month.

Why Forex Makes Sense (Forex Trading to Make Oodles)

Mom and dad always taught me that having money can allow somebody to literally make money. Small quantities can become larger quantities, but larger quantities can create exponentially larger quantities. But in order to make money, sometimes you have to lose money in order to gain knowledge and experience. They also taught me that sometimes, one could easily make money by simply having that money change hands. They were right.

Implicitly, I guess I always knew. They introduced me to forex trading at a very young age with a very simple concept. Money will always be money, no matter what form it's in. If you had money and you sold it to a broker, then you'll get money in return. If you take money and sell it and then hold on to it until the demand for that currency you now have goes up, well, it'll just continue to go upwards. Right? That's the goal, but what if the currency goes in the other direction? Well guess what, so does your income tax and so often do the products and commodities of that country.

Take for example, Thailand, a beautiful country. I often exchange my currency for Thai Baht because if the US dollar strengthens against the Thai Baht, I can make a profit. If it gets weaker, that's still okay because the prices of basic things that I need have not. I can still purchase a shirt for cheap, I can still purchase a belt for a lower price than in the states (and still pay less by having it shipped to the States than purchasing it from Wal-Mart). Now, if by chance the currency goes up anytime soon, well that's just peachy for me and I can exchange it back. My gains are lower, but hey, so are my taxes.

If it gets to a point where it is very clear that the currency will continue to slide downwards and never go upwards and I have no needs for the products of that country, then I will exchange it. However, this is where the follies of many traders appear. You see, you don't need to convert back to US dollars. You can always exchange to British Pounds or the German Mark. Just as there are stocks with correlations, economies also have correlations. It's up to the trader to be educated about the currencies and economies. Generally though, this is pretty easy to find because you can just go to the major stock indices of each country and cross reference them over a 5 year period and see what kind of correlation is there.

Regardless of your decision, you will lose money but you will also gain money. You gain very little at a time and therefore you need to buy and sell either frequently or in large volumes. As for me, I do this frequently because I do not have a large volume of money. Well, I do not know how compelling this is to everybody, but you are more than welcome to comment and leave me your thoughts. I leave you with one final thought: this is my experience with currency exchange, and actually, I have been more successful in the past when technology was not so great. Nowadays, with things being so quick, I am not as able to take advantage of arbitrage opportunities like I used to so I have given that up. Hopefully, I will learn about new arbitrage opportunities and I will tell you about it all later.

Best of luck, cheers!