The past few days have been nothing short of surreal. At times I've had to take a big mental step backwards in order to clear my head and remind myself of where I am, and where I'm going.
I quit my job on Wednesday. Monday evening I got a callback from company xxxxxxx again, asking me to come in on Tuesday after work in order to meet again with the HR director. Kind of surprising, since I had expected to meet with a few more people there before any decisions were made. In fact, I was more than a little concerned that this meeting had something to do with my possible arbitration situation. However, I was pleasantly surprised with a brief meeting in which an offer sheet was presented. With very generous terms, I might add.
Since I've told my people at the AMEX that I'm leaving, I've been almost in a daze at work. There's even less for me to do there than there had been in weeks past, which gives me plenty of time to contemplate the idea of not working there anymore. It's still not quite all sunk in. I WILL NOT WORK AT THE AMEX ANYMORE. I'm not going to be one of those guys in the funny colored jackets yelling at each other. I'm not going to be a member of a stock exchange.
It's really interesting how your occupation essentially defines who you are. Whenever you're introduced to someone, the topic of occupation comes up almost always within the first five to ten minutes. Even if you're unemployed, you mention the industry you're hoping to work in, or whatever your last job was. Right now, I'm between jobs. I don't "work" for anyone right now. I'm in limbo until I start my new career. It's been stressful at times - I can't really explain why, but I've felt a lot of pressure suddenly. I really wish things would move along, and I could settle in to the new job as quickly as possible.
Instead, I'm going on vacation. I booked a flight to Florida for Sunday, and I'm looking forward to sitting by the pool and relaxing. I have plenty of reading material, seeing as I need to pass the Series 7 nearly immediately. I went uptown to the new office this afternoon and picked up ten pounds of review course material, which I will soon add to my collection of Large Binders I Will Never Open Again After The Test.
That bookshelf really needs reinforcing.
Thursday, March 17, 2005
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Message
The callback for the message on my phone was from a New Jersey area code, but the number was unfamiliar. The voice, although strained and shaky, was instantly recognizable.
"Hi, it's me. Remember on Saturday night when I told you I wasn't feeling very well? Well, I went to the hospital yesterday, and they admitted me, and I'm going to be here for a few days. I think you should probably call me."
Lauren.
We've been in touch fairly regularly over the past few months - speaking on the phone several times a week and even seeing each other once every month or so. I don't intend this to be the cause of any speculation regarding the two of us because, honestly, I have no idea if there's anything to speculate about. Intentionally or not, we've completely avoided any discussion of whether there's any "us." Tacitly, we're friends. Who occasionally sleep together when circumstances warrant.
Last week I was mulling over the merits of platony, and had generally decided that I'm still not quite at the stage where I'd like to be in terms of having a serious relationship. I'm still not quite feeling myself after the fallout of the Sharon debacle - more than one person has recently used the word "bitter" when commenting on my description of my last relationship. I was really thinking I'd probably be best off with some non-serious dating, to cleanse the palate as it were. Revisiting past conquests, particularly those that were both emotionally and psychologically taxing, is probably not a good idea for me right now.
Hearing Lauren's unsteady voice on the phone completely shakes the foundation of that plan. She's currently undergoing treatment for a complete systemic bacterial infection, the nature of which is still somewhat unknown. She is on some very heavy antibiotics, and a regular dose of morphine to boot. This is not a trivial course of treatment, and she is understandably shaken.
We spoke for maybe half an hour, before the fatigue and drugs tired her out. Her condition is improving, but she'll be hospitalized for at least two more days as the doctors figure out what exactly is wrong with her. I'll probably take a trip down to NJ later this week to visit. As with all my relationships, I'll play the role of the rocksteady, supportive champion opposite her, the damsel in distress. Atypically, the distress is this time physical, not psychological.
"Hi, it's me. Remember on Saturday night when I told you I wasn't feeling very well? Well, I went to the hospital yesterday, and they admitted me, and I'm going to be here for a few days. I think you should probably call me."
Lauren.
We've been in touch fairly regularly over the past few months - speaking on the phone several times a week and even seeing each other once every month or so. I don't intend this to be the cause of any speculation regarding the two of us because, honestly, I have no idea if there's anything to speculate about. Intentionally or not, we've completely avoided any discussion of whether there's any "us." Tacitly, we're friends. Who occasionally sleep together when circumstances warrant.
Last week I was mulling over the merits of platony, and had generally decided that I'm still not quite at the stage where I'd like to be in terms of having a serious relationship. I'm still not quite feeling myself after the fallout of the Sharon debacle - more than one person has recently used the word "bitter" when commenting on my description of my last relationship. I was really thinking I'd probably be best off with some non-serious dating, to cleanse the palate as it were. Revisiting past conquests, particularly those that were both emotionally and psychologically taxing, is probably not a good idea for me right now.
Hearing Lauren's unsteady voice on the phone completely shakes the foundation of that plan. She's currently undergoing treatment for a complete systemic bacterial infection, the nature of which is still somewhat unknown. She is on some very heavy antibiotics, and a regular dose of morphine to boot. This is not a trivial course of treatment, and she is understandably shaken.
We spoke for maybe half an hour, before the fatigue and drugs tired her out. Her condition is improving, but she'll be hospitalized for at least two more days as the doctors figure out what exactly is wrong with her. I'll probably take a trip down to NJ later this week to visit. As with all my relationships, I'll play the role of the rocksteady, supportive champion opposite her, the damsel in distress. Atypically, the distress is this time physical, not psychological.
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Weekend Update
I spent the weekend visiting my family in NJ, which explains the paucity of posting of late. (Hey - alliteration - cool!) I hate doing these condensed multi-day update posts, but there's really no way around it other than simply not writing, which I don't particularly want to do either. So, in order to maintain the timeline, thus follows the very brief update:
Thursday - had interview, went well.
Friday - work was boring. Went to NJ. Almost finished the Atlantic Magazine crossword.
Saturday - slept in, went to Barnes & Noble, went to Taryn's house, watched a movie
Sunday - lunch with Arpi, came back to NY.
Now, on to the things that matter.
For the first time in my life, my sister beat me at chess. And I mean beat me. No, I was not letting her win, and no, I did not help her at all either. She thoroughly beat me with an impressive strategy that I was completely unprepared for. I do not claim to be a good chess player by any stretch, but she literally learned the game 3 months ago. I wouldn't be so concerned if she had won a long game of attrition, or even if we reached a stage in the game where it was pointless to continue. No, she checkmated me in 20 moves. I have already installed K-Chess on my computer, and will be practicing for the next time she's home. Reputations are at stake here.
The Barnes & Noble discount bin was good to me this week. Just this past Wednesday I saw a book I wanted to buy - a biography of Carlo Ponzi. The idea of paying $27 for yet another book to add to my to-read pile was downright repulsive, though, considering it's a minor miracle the shelves in my room haven't yet collapsed under their own weight. Besides, by the time I actually get around to reading it, the book will surely be out in paperback. However, sitting on the bottom of the discount bin at B&N on Saturday night, was the holy grail of the avid reader - the Reviewer's Copy. For the discounted price of just $5 you too can own a copy of today's best-sellers. As long as you don't mind the incredibly ugly cover that says "Random House" all over it in bright blue, and the fact that the index and table of contents refer everything to page 000. A worthy sacrifice in my opinion. I'm already 50 pages in.
Next time I go back to NJ, I think I need to bring some of these books with me. That shelf really does look like it's starting to bow out in the center...
Thursday - had interview, went well.
Friday - work was boring. Went to NJ. Almost finished the Atlantic Magazine crossword.
Saturday - slept in, went to Barnes & Noble, went to Taryn's house, watched a movie
Sunday - lunch with Arpi, came back to NY.
Now, on to the things that matter.
For the first time in my life, my sister beat me at chess. And I mean beat me. No, I was not letting her win, and no, I did not help her at all either. She thoroughly beat me with an impressive strategy that I was completely unprepared for. I do not claim to be a good chess player by any stretch, but she literally learned the game 3 months ago. I wouldn't be so concerned if she had won a long game of attrition, or even if we reached a stage in the game where it was pointless to continue. No, she checkmated me in 20 moves. I have already installed K-Chess on my computer, and will be practicing for the next time she's home. Reputations are at stake here.
The Barnes & Noble discount bin was good to me this week. Just this past Wednesday I saw a book I wanted to buy - a biography of Carlo Ponzi. The idea of paying $27 for yet another book to add to my to-read pile was downright repulsive, though, considering it's a minor miracle the shelves in my room haven't yet collapsed under their own weight. Besides, by the time I actually get around to reading it, the book will surely be out in paperback. However, sitting on the bottom of the discount bin at B&N on Saturday night, was the holy grail of the avid reader - the Reviewer's Copy. For the discounted price of just $5 you too can own a copy of today's best-sellers. As long as you don't mind the incredibly ugly cover that says "Random House" all over it in bright blue, and the fact that the index and table of contents refer everything to page 000. A worthy sacrifice in my opinion. I'm already 50 pages in.
Next time I go back to NJ, I think I need to bring some of these books with me. That shelf really does look like it's starting to bow out in the center...
Friday, March 11, 2005
Interview II and The Bosch
I went to my second interview with company xxxxxx this afternoon. Again, I think it went well. I was basically told that there will be a third interview sometime soon, but I feel like I'm making progress here. I really could use the change of scenery. I reallly liked the way the head trader was talking by the end of today - saying things like "when you work for us you'll be..." and "your job will involve..." Positive language is always a good sign. I do have to call the HR department tomorrow though. There's one concern I have regarding the application process - technically, I might be involved in an arbitration suit, and I did need to disclose it today when I was filling out a background check form. I want to make sure I clarify the situation; hopefully it won't jeopardize my application.
After what felt like a successful day, I went over to Lit on 2nd Ave to see Andrew's band play. The bar was running really really late, so Andrew only got about 20 minutes of time on stage. You know, it really pisses me off - I spent $5 to see them, and I expect to get a decent show out of it. It's not their fault that the bar couldn't figure out how to put a schedule together. They were supposed to go on at 10:45, and probably hit the stage around 12:15 or so. The whole crowd was yelling and calling for more, but the sound guy cut them off as soon as they finished their last song. Literally the second they finished, they cut the mikes and hustled the guys offstage. I wanted to go and complain to the girl at the door and ask for my money back, but she had conveniently disappeared. I am definitely not going back to that bar for a long time, and will likely make an angry phone call tomorrow from work.
After what felt like a successful day, I went over to Lit on 2nd Ave to see Andrew's band play. The bar was running really really late, so Andrew only got about 20 minutes of time on stage. You know, it really pisses me off - I spent $5 to see them, and I expect to get a decent show out of it. It's not their fault that the bar couldn't figure out how to put a schedule together. They were supposed to go on at 10:45, and probably hit the stage around 12:15 or so. The whole crowd was yelling and calling for more, but the sound guy cut them off as soon as they finished their last song. Literally the second they finished, they cut the mikes and hustled the guys offstage. I wanted to go and complain to the girl at the door and ask for my money back, but she had conveniently disappeared. I am definitely not going back to that bar for a long time, and will likely make an angry phone call tomorrow from work.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Snow?
I'd like to take a moment to issue a giant "what the HELL?" to the weather outside. Yesterday it was a beautiful 60 degrees in Manhattan, albeit slightly overcast. Warm enough for me to run 3 miles in Thompkins Square Park. Today, when I left work, there was a blizzard going on outside. Apparently, some Canadian storm has freakishly gotten itself lost, and mistakenly foundered itself offshore of New York, not unlike a beached whale. I can only suggest, barring the creation of a James Bond-esque weather machine, that this storm relocate itself 1500 miles to the north. Soon. It's March already, and I no longer live in Ithaca. Please, storm, remove yourself from the premises, or I shall be forced to call the authorities.
Krikor stopped me this morning as I was coming back from the shower. Lazily leaning out of bed and propping the door open with his arm, he looked at me, half-asleep, from bed.
"There's a message on the answering machine for you."
Puzzling. I almost never give out our home number, preferring to communicate over the cell whenever possible. It could be someone from work, but I already checked my positions online; could Taser have been taken over in the past 20 minutes? Not likely. There's really only one person who would call me at this number. I wonder...
BEEP
"Hi Jason this is Kimberly from xxxxxx. We'd like you to come in again and meet our head trader..."
Elation.
Krikor stopped me this morning as I was coming back from the shower. Lazily leaning out of bed and propping the door open with his arm, he looked at me, half-asleep, from bed.
"There's a message on the answering machine for you."
Puzzling. I almost never give out our home number, preferring to communicate over the cell whenever possible. It could be someone from work, but I already checked my positions online; could Taser have been taken over in the past 20 minutes? Not likely. There's really only one person who would call me at this number. I wonder...
BEEP
"Hi Jason this is Kimberly from xxxxxx. We'd like you to come in again and meet our head trader..."
Elation.
Monday, March 07, 2005
Take 2
So, Blogger just ate the long post I wrote about the party, and I really don't feel like typing it all out again. Although, in retrospect, it wasn't a particularly well-written post either. Way too narrative and detached. Maybe the Internet Demons decided that they'd rather see me try again. Well, tough shit Internet Demons. You think I'm retyping that whole four paragraph, naive, boring-ass entry? No way! You're getting the condensed version, and you're going to like it.
Basically, the party was fun, but not enough people showed up for my liking. Definitely nobody new, which was kind of the point of the whole thing, so there was no chance of getting any phone numbers or finding some hot girl to bring back into the "VIP Lounge" for some PG-13 rated action. On the other hand, Caroline from high school showed up, which was very cool since I hadn't seen her in nine years and hadn't spoken to her in about eight. At least if I wasn't going to get a date out of this, I could at least have fun reminiscing and catching up. Granted, conversations like:
"So how's your dad doing?" (her dad was our history teacher in 11th grade.)
"Well, he got remarried a year or so ago because my mom died."
aren't exactly my idea of catching up.
Oh, yeah, pictures from the party might be posted, but probably won't since so many of them didnt' come out well at all. Mostly dark blobs that, on closer inspection, appear to vaguely resemble either Krikor or Alex.
Basically, the party was fun, but not enough people showed up for my liking. Definitely nobody new, which was kind of the point of the whole thing, so there was no chance of getting any phone numbers or finding some hot girl to bring back into the "VIP Lounge" for some PG-13 rated action. On the other hand, Caroline from high school showed up, which was very cool since I hadn't seen her in nine years and hadn't spoken to her in about eight. At least if I wasn't going to get a date out of this, I could at least have fun reminiscing and catching up. Granted, conversations like:
"So how's your dad doing?" (her dad was our history teacher in 11th grade.)
"Well, he got remarried a year or so ago because my mom died."
aren't exactly my idea of catching up.
Oh, yeah, pictures from the party might be posted, but probably won't since so many of them didnt' come out well at all. Mostly dark blobs that, on closer inspection, appear to vaguely resemble either Krikor or Alex.
Saturday, March 05, 2005
Party Prep
So, tonight's the night of our big party here at the apartment. Our floors are vacuumed, the drinks are chilled, the music is ready, the lights are appropriately dimmed, and the band equipment is now cluttering up Krikor's room. We seem to be all set.
I'm a little nervous about the turnout. Taryn had to cancel last minute, which means her friends won't show up either. Scratch 3 off the list. Kahn's coming, but can't guarantee many friends, which we were hoping for since he knows a lot of single girls. On the other hand, we'll probably have a few surprises, so who knows? Besides, it's not like there's that much room in here for that many people.
Regardless, we're almost ready. In about an hour, I'm going to slice up the lemons and limes for the drinks. Then, come 9PM, it's party time.
I'm a little nervous about the turnout. Taryn had to cancel last minute, which means her friends won't show up either. Scratch 3 off the list. Kahn's coming, but can't guarantee many friends, which we were hoping for since he knows a lot of single girls. On the other hand, we'll probably have a few surprises, so who knows? Besides, it's not like there's that much room in here for that many people.
Regardless, we're almost ready. In about an hour, I'm going to slice up the lemons and limes for the drinks. Then, come 9PM, it's party time.
Thursday, March 03, 2005
Interview
Today, for the first time in about 4 years, I went on a job interview. I've finally become so sick of my job that I'm willing to get up off my lazy ass and do something about it. The interview went pretty well. The first person I spoke to seemed very laid-back, and we hit it off immediately. We spoke for an hour, and ended up joking about the AMEX and how frustrating the exchange is. If he were in charge of human resources, I'm sure I'd have the job.
The second person, the founder of the company, was a lot tougher. It was really hard to read him, and I'm not sure what he thought of me. We eventually seemed to warm up, but for a while I felt like I was grasping at straws. We did talk salary though, which is usually a good sign. The job's not 100% what I wanted to do, but it's close enough that I'm willing to take it if an offer comes my way. I also like the environment there - everyone seemed pretty friendly and relaxed, so I think I'd fit in pretty well.
After the interview I walked down to the gym, figuring I'd get a quick workout in before dinner. Right after I finished my first 3 sets, I went to put the weights back on the rack and slipped. I totally missed the rack, and the lip of the rack went straight into my finger. I sliced myself up pretty good, and can't really grip anything with my right hand. I think the bleeding has stopped for now, but every once in a while I'll bend my finger and it'll start up again. I was worried at first that I cut myself so deep that I'd need stitches, but I think that's just my natural tendency to exaggerate manifesting itself through hypochondria. I'm sure it'll be fine by tomorrow. If not, I'll just have to call up a few of my doctor-friends and see if any of them want to practice their suturing skills.
The second person, the founder of the company, was a lot tougher. It was really hard to read him, and I'm not sure what he thought of me. We eventually seemed to warm up, but for a while I felt like I was grasping at straws. We did talk salary though, which is usually a good sign. The job's not 100% what I wanted to do, but it's close enough that I'm willing to take it if an offer comes my way. I also like the environment there - everyone seemed pretty friendly and relaxed, so I think I'd fit in pretty well.
After the interview I walked down to the gym, figuring I'd get a quick workout in before dinner. Right after I finished my first 3 sets, I went to put the weights back on the rack and slipped. I totally missed the rack, and the lip of the rack went straight into my finger. I sliced myself up pretty good, and can't really grip anything with my right hand. I think the bleeding has stopped for now, but every once in a while I'll bend my finger and it'll start up again. I was worried at first that I cut myself so deep that I'd need stitches, but I think that's just my natural tendency to exaggerate manifesting itself through hypochondria. I'm sure it'll be fine by tomorrow. If not, I'll just have to call up a few of my doctor-friends and see if any of them want to practice their suturing skills.
Insert Brief Biographical Sketch Here
So, who the hell am I, anyway? I guess you could say I'm a lot of things. I expected this to be an easy entry - how hard is it to just run through a few adjectives and basic historical data? A lot harder than it sounded. I could probably mention that I live in New York City and work on Wall Street, but that could change anytime soon. (There will be plenty of posting about a certain stock exchange, I guarantee.) I'd have to mention somewhere that I went to Cornell University and graduated in 2000. I learned a lot when I was there, but little of that had anything to do with classes.
So, basically, all you know so far is that I am virtually indistinguishable from about 50,000 other New Yorkers. What else? Hmm, OK. I play a mean guitar. I always am in the middle of reading 5 books at once. I drink bourbon whiskey, on the rocks. I love to cook, but hate to clean up afterwards. I can run a sub-7 minute mile.
It's pretty difficult to sum up nearly 27 years of experience and personality into a blog post; you'll just have to see what you can glean about me over time. I will, however, enlighten you about the name of the blog - So Derivative. My current job, (I'd call it an occupation, but it barely occupies my time when I'm at work,) is formally titled Equity Options Trader. I work on the trading floor of the American Stock Exchange, where I yell and wave my arms and participate in the chaos that is sheer unbridled capitalism. Ostensibly. In reality, I play a lot of solitaire, do the crossword puzzle, eat my free lunch, and surf the net. A lot. A few years ago things really were frantic and exciting, but a lot has changed since then. I don't know how much longer I'm going to stay down there, but for the time being I am, technically, a derivatives trader.
So, basically, all you know so far is that I am virtually indistinguishable from about 50,000 other New Yorkers. What else? Hmm, OK. I play a mean guitar. I always am in the middle of reading 5 books at once. I drink bourbon whiskey, on the rocks. I love to cook, but hate to clean up afterwards. I can run a sub-7 minute mile.
It's pretty difficult to sum up nearly 27 years of experience and personality into a blog post; you'll just have to see what you can glean about me over time. I will, however, enlighten you about the name of the blog - So Derivative. My current job, (I'd call it an occupation, but it barely occupies my time when I'm at work,) is formally titled Equity Options Trader. I work on the trading floor of the American Stock Exchange, where I yell and wave my arms and participate in the chaos that is sheer unbridled capitalism. Ostensibly. In reality, I play a lot of solitaire, do the crossword puzzle, eat my free lunch, and surf the net. A lot. A few years ago things really were frantic and exciting, but a lot has changed since then. I don't know how much longer I'm going to stay down there, but for the time being I am, technically, a derivatives trader.
Start Date
Well, it looks like I've finally gone and started myself a blog. For real this time. I've flirted with bloggerdom in the past, via LiveJournal, or through a little side project that never really got off the ground. But this time, it's going to be for real.
So, why blog? Certainly not to be trendy - I'm arriving so late to this party that I'm practically being assigned cleanup detail. Most of my friends have some sort of blog by now, but I've been content to live in the realm of the real world up until now. Why now, you ask, after all this time, would I decide to plaster myself and my life on the net for everyone to see?
I think it's because I need an outlet. I've been keeping a lot of things inside, and I need to get them out there. My friends have always described me as calm, relaxed, laid-back, but that's because they don't always see the other sides. The anxiety, the depression, the elation, the love, the joy, and so many other things. I've decided that catharsis is good.
I've also been told I'm a good writer. Notably, by one of the crazy exes. (Yes, there are several crazy ex-girlfriends. More about them another day.) Personally, I don't really think my daily ins and outs will make such a gripping read, but I guess life is what you make of it, and I'm going to try to make mine as interesting as at all possible.
Thanks for stopping by. Hope you enjoy the ride.
So, why blog? Certainly not to be trendy - I'm arriving so late to this party that I'm practically being assigned cleanup detail. Most of my friends have some sort of blog by now, but I've been content to live in the realm of the real world up until now. Why now, you ask, after all this time, would I decide to plaster myself and my life on the net for everyone to see?
I think it's because I need an outlet. I've been keeping a lot of things inside, and I need to get them out there. My friends have always described me as calm, relaxed, laid-back, but that's because they don't always see the other sides. The anxiety, the depression, the elation, the love, the joy, and so many other things. I've decided that catharsis is good.
I've also been told I'm a good writer. Notably, by one of the crazy exes. (Yes, there are several crazy ex-girlfriends. More about them another day.) Personally, I don't really think my daily ins and outs will make such a gripping read, but I guess life is what you make of it, and I'm going to try to make mine as interesting as at all possible.
Thanks for stopping by. Hope you enjoy the ride.
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