Getting There

I've been doing a lot of that lately...getting there. But without really arriving. Could be my age, state of priorities and opportunities, or maybe that my infamous excitement-followed-by-half-assed execution is spreading into other aspects of my life besides wall paper removal. Regardless, here I am, in transit, and still pedaling.

A state I'm nearly guaranteed to arrive at, though, is the end of the term. I'm definitely getting there as today is my FINAL DAY of classes. To celebrate, I am attending but one of the three. My finals are a gift from the heavens: one open-note take-home exam, one open-note exam, and one exam with a note sheet. And given my effort and committment thus far, I could practically skip all exams and still pass. But my work ethic doesn't allow for such shenanigans, so I'll be acting Singaporean over the next week (the classless study week not practiced by the U) and hitting the books in preparation. And sadly, this all means I'll soon be getting to the end of my exchange semester, and leaving this lovely place. (Photo: Tassja and I at the Esplanade for a jazz concert, downtown Singapore over the river in the background.)

Last night was the 2007 Exchange Farewell Party, which would be nothing of note had I not volunteered to organize it with dear Myra and two giggly girls from Hong Kong. We were given a budget, and a mission to plan a dinner/party/program for 120-something students, details left completely up to our discretion. And with a cumulative 3 weeks of planning time, only 2 with the whole committee, we were in a perpetual pinch. The result: dinner at a restaurant near school (for convenience) called Timbre (the entire dining "room" is an outdoor patio), tee shirts for all, photo slideshow presentation, a group game, and awards given to members of the exchange class, voted by our peers. The festivities were free for all students, and as Timbre is a breeding ground for local artists, great music to follow (Photo below).The final product was indeed a success, but we dedicated our long hours to relentless and unexpected frustrations like obtaining clearance to use the SMU logo (initially denied!), poor quality products from the screen-printing company, planning ahead for the threat of rain, and my personal favorite, working nine hours on a presentation only to have the media lab computer automatically update and reboot, triggering an auto wipe of the hard drive. Hard work=gone! We threw a primitive presentation together last minute, but what a waste--especially because I had a quiz at 8:30 this morning, 2 assignments to work on, and other items on the party To-Do list. But enough of that, it's over and it was fun. To relate back to the topic though, the party was gratifying but not like I had expected. Even despite my hard work and taking the reigns from the first day, I don't feel the sense of accomplishment that should come with. Maybe that just means I shouldn't be a party planner, which is fiiiiiiiiine by me. Still getting there...

Work. My Portfolio Management prof offered words of wisdom to the class and charted different paths from various undergraduate degrees to either GJ (good jobs) or NSGJ (not so good jobs), and ways to move from the latter to the former (MBA from certain schools, lots of luck, etc.), and details of what are GJ and what are NSGJ. As it turns out, I'm in great position as one of the 2% that gets an undergraduate degree in business or quant subjects (finance=the combo) and goes directly in to a GJ, specifically one of the high paying, ultra sexy GJ. I wanted to raise my hand and ask how I can ensure that I don't drop of the edge of the whiteboard and find myself dizzy in an NSGJ. Don't misunderstand, I'm in no hurry to separate from my youthful exuberance and easy going life in academia...but I would like some surety. This aweful state of "getting there" is the limbo between having my foot in the door, and not knowing how heavy the door is, whether it will break my toes or kick it open. Or even a hint of what's ahead...I'd take that! It's a rough industry because no one ever has the surety, that guarantee of stability; look at John Merriweather, Myron Scholes, and their genius cohorts who started Long Term Capital Management, the supposed hedge fund prodigy that found itself billions of dollars in debt due to unexpected market movements and enough leverage to move the market when Merriweather's dog takes a purple shit. They were giants of the industry and academia, and they fucked up big. This bodes poorly for average-Jane-S & T intern. (Photos: GJ at UBS)

So you see the theme, and it's rambling manifestation in my humble existence. Too much effort applied to figuring it out? Or is effort and preparation my only chance of competitiveness? The safe choice isn't laissez-faire.

I'm going to read some working papers on trading systems now, and damnit, I'm going to like it.

PS: Does anyone know how searchable blogs are on Google? And how to undo that if they are?

Teliologically Inaccurate...but I digress.

As the title suggests, the content of this post is out of chronological order. My last post (also completed today, so read on) finished with a mention of scuba certification, which is where this one shall pick up.

I signed up to take my PADI Open Water dive course with the SMU X-tremist club that organizes trips and expeditions for students interested in trekking, climbing, kayaking, diving, and other somewhat extreme sports. There were about an even number of exchange students as Singaporeans on the trip, so I knew a good handful of kids, and we had a good time. The classroom and pool sessions were held here on the island...you'll be disappointed to know I failed the test, but the nature of the PADI beast is to talk through the incorrect answers, preparing the failer to retake the test. Immediately following the discussion, quickly congratulate them for passing and send them on their way. So I passed, and went on my merry way.

The open water portion of the certification took place in Pulau Dayang, which means Dayang Island in Malay. The beach was stunning, the sea life was fun, and my fellow divers were all easy-going folks with great attitudes and a fun sense of humor. The instructors were a wild bunch as well, led by 30-year old Jacki who looks to be about 12. He's the least serious person I can possible think of, and can be counted on to throw someone into the water or other entertaining antics at any time. When something goes wrong though, he instantaneously puts on Danger Face and takes care of the problem, so he's great at what he does.

At Dayang, we completed 5 dives in 2 days, and got plenty of experience hooking up tanks and buoyancy devices, completing various underwater skills, and goofing off in wetsuits. It was a grand ol' time, and I'm pretty pissed that I live 1500 miles from in ocean in all directions. Regardless, I can scuba dive, and I'm psyched about it.

So I'm curious how my dreams will change as a result of being able to scuba dive. I frequently have dreams involving normal breathing while completely submerged in the ocean, a lake, a sink, a bathtub, some vat of water...and then I wake up in the middle of it as soon as my mind processes the fact that I'm breathing under water, and that just ain't right. Will I stay asleep? Will I explore the deep dark depths of which ever vat of water I'm splashing around in? If I don't wake up anymore, I'll never remember the dream because it'll be long gone by the time my circadian rise-time of 8:30 approaches, which bothers me moreso than waking up to begin with. Growl. Expect scientific reasoning on this soon.

Next post: Bangkok!

Wrapping My Mind Around an Island

Really, that's what I'm trying to do. And there's a lot of island in there, so thank god I was fortunate enough to be born with a severe defect resulting in my skull being made of extremely flexible stomach...not only does this wrapping become easier with time, but it includes a rancid odor for FREE! Slap-happy? No. Hung over? No. Should I be? Definitely, hence the glee.

This post is a long time coming, as the past few weeks have been somewhat noteworthy.

Note: I finally took some pictures of the apartment, but I was feeling so ambitious as to remove all the 19th century hand-carved teak Chinese furniture pieces, elaborate tapestries and plush cashmere carpet so you could, um, see what it would look like stripped down, and not stun you with its grandeur. For your own benefit, of course. Mine is the yellow door.

First, the basics. Singapore is hot and humid, usually sunny, particularly friendly, and refreshingly clear in the evenings so the bright lights are sharp like a conservative Las Vegas made completely of stars and really powerful food (plasma?) coloring. My competitive advantage in Singapore continues to be my geographical awareness as I've taken to walking everywhere. Who knew that Clarke Quay was three blocks from Boat Quay which is across the S'pore River from the Esplanade which is just down North Bridge Road which means I can walk there in about 50 minutes! Excelsior! I should not be so astounded as anything in the city of Singapore is three blocks away from anything else. That is not accurate, but that's not here nor there. Another grand discover is that I have finally found Fort Canning Park. Lo and behold, it is a mere three blocks from SMU. And what a pleasant green space it is, perfect for passing hours with my most recent library acquisition, For Whom the Bell Tolls. Regrettably only my second Hemingway, I am in debt to him for rescuing me from the shallow appeal of Equity Markets in Action. Classes are still going well; I outscored my first Portfolio Management quiz with my second, and after using Kenny's technique and convincing myself of a truly dismal outcome, this was a pleasant surprise.

Fun stuff: I'm scuba certified!