"Mommy, did Santa move to China?"
"No, Santa lives at the North Pole."
"Then why do all my presents say 'made in China' on them?"
"Because some of Santa's elves are Chinese."
Even Santa outsources.
Happy Holidays.
Monday, December 25, 2006
Friday, December 15, 2006
Thursday, December 14, 2006
There are times when i have serious doubts about working in finance. Or at least as a research analyst. The 12 hr days working on financial models and doing channel checks wears thin pretty quickly. Seriously, how many times can you call supermarkets in Ohio to check on material developments in the meat department before going insane?
"Can i speak with the meat department manager?"
"Do you have the XXXX meat grinder?"
"Do you like it?"
"how many pounds of meat do you grind a day."
"I'm the one asking the questions here."
"Hello? Hello?"
Repeat ad nauseam.
I think about my hipster friends who actually seem to enjoy what they do, despite the veneer of apathy and the confrontational streak anytime politics or music comes up in conversations. I think about the parties they went to on friday night as I work saturdays, excel searing my optic nerve. I think about it every time the traders leave at 4:30.
Than i remember that i have no debt, a 401k and some money to play with, and i feel a little better. I can wear made to measure and bespoke clothes, and scatter lesser yuppies with the blinding power of my Rolex. I can afford cable TV, my rent and xbox live. That makes me smile, especialy when i'm slaughtering people american psycho style on Gears of War.
It still doesn't change the fact i cry myself to sleep. At least i do it on piles of cash.
"Can i speak with the meat department manager?"
"Do you have the XXXX meat grinder?"
"Do you like it?"
"how many pounds of meat do you grind a day."
"I'm the one asking the questions here."
"Hello? Hello?"
Repeat ad nauseam.
I think about my hipster friends who actually seem to enjoy what they do, despite the veneer of apathy and the confrontational streak anytime politics or music comes up in conversations. I think about the parties they went to on friday night as I work saturdays, excel searing my optic nerve. I think about it every time the traders leave at 4:30.
Than i remember that i have no debt, a 401k and some money to play with, and i feel a little better. I can wear made to measure and bespoke clothes, and scatter lesser yuppies with the blinding power of my Rolex. I can afford cable TV, my rent and xbox live. That makes me smile, especialy when i'm slaughtering people american psycho style on Gears of War.
It still doesn't change the fact i cry myself to sleep. At least i do it on piles of cash.
Cotext v subtext
Two traders are drinking in the basement bar of Bobby Vans on Broad St when one says to the other “So the seller put out an offer, the first buyer put up a bid then backed away, so I came in and she hit my bid.”
To someone with knowledge of trading terminology, this would literally be translated as
“The seller had provided an offer but the first buyer reneged on their intention to buy the stock, so I came in and she sold to me.”
What it actually means is completely different based on context.
“This girl went up the bar looking for a guy to buy her a drink. The first guy bought her a drink but decided she wasn’t his type and moved on, so I came in and sealed the deal.”
To someone with knowledge of trading terminology, this would literally be translated as
“The seller had provided an offer but the first buyer reneged on their intention to buy the stock, so I came in and she sold to me.”
What it actually means is completely different based on context.
“This girl went up the bar looking for a guy to buy her a drink. The first guy bought her a drink but decided she wasn’t his type and moved on, so I came in and sealed the deal.”
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