With Texas superdelegate Jaime Gonzalez, Jr. endorsing my new goomah Hillary, this brings her RealClearPolitics delegate total to 1600. As in 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
Don't get me wrong. Senator McCain's still my guy. Much as I'm catching HRC fever right now, in November it'll be bros before hos.
In other news, tomorrow is the third leg of the New York City Half Marathon Grand Prix. I'll be plodding down the Coney Island Boardwalk while most of you are drifting your way through alcohol induced (yet R.E.M. free) sleep.
I graduate in...15 days. Wow.
Showing posts with label College. Show all posts
Showing posts with label College. Show all posts
Friday, May 2, 2008
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
My Baby Takes the Morning Train
This Awesomeness On A Stick blog entry starts...well, it'll start in about fifty words or so.
So I'm sitting in my Options & Futures class the other night wanting to bludgeon my eyes out with the blunt end of my desk. For the seventh straight example, my droning professor is talking about which minimum risk hedge ratio should be used to hedge the Japanese yen with the Russell 2000, and I'm thinking: "Yipes, is this really the best thing people find to do with their lives?"
I mean, wouldn't it be a little more fascinating and thought provoking to ponder the course of American history without a President Lincoln, rather than whether we should over-hedge or under-hedge? How about debating the relative merits of rational-emotive therapy? Should we withdraw from the Beijing Olympics? Where do the Elgin Marbles really belong?
Hey, I'm not really that naive. I know I chose my major, yet I wonder how it would have turned out had I done it all over again. I mean I still would have majored in Accounting at the undergrad level. Those classes did not enrage me, and I saw the benefits that accountants provide society - particularly auditors, who, as I like to say: keep the thieves honest.
But now that I'm working on an M.B.A. in Finance, I cannot help but take a look around my classes and wonder what kind of people these are that just give of themselves towards a profession that inherently really doesn't mean anything. When one way of making money dries up, they invent a new, vastly more complex method to fool everyone and abscond with treasure.
But hey, to each his own. I still, of course, believe that capitalism is the most efficient way to run an economy. It's just that lately, whenever I get frustrated over a fifteen minute discussion of how to calculate beta, I am reminded of my favorite quote from one of my favorite movies - Wall Street. After the profit-at-any-cost driven Bud Fox is about to go to trial for insider trading, tail between his legs, his father Carl has advice for Bud's future after prison. Carl is the quintessential old-school blue-collar New Yorker, the kind of middle class guy I grew up idolizing for his work ethic. Old Carl tells his son, "Create, instead of living off the buying and selling of others."
When I began my accelerated M.B.A. program in January, one which will be complete in August, many people asked me why I was starting so early. My simple answer was, "Well, I don't have anything better to do till I start working in September." This is essentially true, though it needs to be qualified. I am not discounting the whole business school experience, and I have enjoyed a few of my classes, and I will enjoy my summer courses even more. Yet people ask why I would so doggedly want to complete this process if I am not completely satisfied. Well, it opens a lot of doors and does help in your future. Much like no one ever enjoys a trip to the DMV, but do you wanna drive or not? Thought so, so take a deep breath and deal with the grey walls and the smelly man standing in front of you.
It will get better, so don't worry about me joining any communes in Seattle. I haven't been laid off yet.
The Office returns Thursday evening from its strike induced hiatus. I know you'll all be watching.
I promise a better entry next time. This didn't go in the direction which I wanted, but few things do. Mikey needs to vent every now and then. So hold tight baby 'cause don't you know Daddy's coming! (Sorry, that was the background Springsteen music talking).
So I'm sitting in my Options & Futures class the other night wanting to bludgeon my eyes out with the blunt end of my desk. For the seventh straight example, my droning professor is talking about which minimum risk hedge ratio should be used to hedge the Japanese yen with the Russell 2000, and I'm thinking: "Yipes, is this really the best thing people find to do with their lives?"
I mean, wouldn't it be a little more fascinating and thought provoking to ponder the course of American history without a President Lincoln, rather than whether we should over-hedge or under-hedge? How about debating the relative merits of rational-emotive therapy? Should we withdraw from the Beijing Olympics? Where do the Elgin Marbles really belong?
Hey, I'm not really that naive. I know I chose my major, yet I wonder how it would have turned out had I done it all over again. I mean I still would have majored in Accounting at the undergrad level. Those classes did not enrage me, and I saw the benefits that accountants provide society - particularly auditors, who, as I like to say: keep the thieves honest.
But now that I'm working on an M.B.A. in Finance, I cannot help but take a look around my classes and wonder what kind of people these are that just give of themselves towards a profession that inherently really doesn't mean anything. When one way of making money dries up, they invent a new, vastly more complex method to fool everyone and abscond with treasure.
But hey, to each his own. I still, of course, believe that capitalism is the most efficient way to run an economy. It's just that lately, whenever I get frustrated over a fifteen minute discussion of how to calculate beta, I am reminded of my favorite quote from one of my favorite movies - Wall Street. After the profit-at-any-cost driven Bud Fox is about to go to trial for insider trading, tail between his legs, his father Carl has advice for Bud's future after prison. Carl is the quintessential old-school blue-collar New Yorker, the kind of middle class guy I grew up idolizing for his work ethic. Old Carl tells his son, "Create, instead of living off the buying and selling of others."
When I began my accelerated M.B.A. program in January, one which will be complete in August, many people asked me why I was starting so early. My simple answer was, "Well, I don't have anything better to do till I start working in September." This is essentially true, though it needs to be qualified. I am not discounting the whole business school experience, and I have enjoyed a few of my classes, and I will enjoy my summer courses even more. Yet people ask why I would so doggedly want to complete this process if I am not completely satisfied. Well, it opens a lot of doors and does help in your future. Much like no one ever enjoys a trip to the DMV, but do you wanna drive or not? Thought so, so take a deep breath and deal with the grey walls and the smelly man standing in front of you.
It will get better, so don't worry about me joining any communes in Seattle. I haven't been laid off yet.
The Office returns Thursday evening from its strike induced hiatus. I know you'll all be watching.
I promise a better entry next time. This didn't go in the direction which I wanted, but few things do. Mikey needs to vent every now and then. So hold tight baby 'cause don't you know Daddy's coming! (Sorry, that was the background Springsteen music talking).
Friday, October 5, 2007
Friday Hodge Podge
One of my female readers asked me the other if this was now exclusively a baseball blog. (You could have expressed that in a comment, I mean that's what comment boxes are for, geez). It is not, nor will it be, it just so happens that I write about what I know and where my passions lie. That'll probably be my last Mets post until March, unless Omar Minaya pulls off the insane and trades Lastings Milledge for Johan Santana. Actually, I'll be too busy to write because I'll be gone for a week or so volunteering to drive Lastings to Minnesota and pick up Johan. And Lastings, don't get any ideas. I control the radio.
Fordham held its first "Senior Night" of the year. Twenty-one year old seniors are allowed to come, drink for two bucks a beer or glass of wine, and dance the night away with fellow seniors. What I enjoyed so much is that for once Fordham was selling something under 125% of market rate. Maybe it's because Jesuits are such fans of brewskies. Anyway, I was please to find that I recognized about 90% of the people there. Of this group, a third of them I know well enough to chat with, another third I see sporadically on campus or in class, and the rest I thought died or worse transferred because I haven't seen them since freshman year in my random liberal arts core classes. I believe a good time was had by all; it was by me at least, and I look forward to next month's 80s theme.
For those of you who watch The Office, last night was so much better than the season premiere. I like the direction they're going in with Ryan, once-temp-now-boss, being villain-istic. I mean it was set up nicely the past two seasons with exposing him as a heartless corporate type more suited for Lehman than a failing regional paper company in Scranton, PA. I know I've been whining lately about devoting too much time to the romances of Jam, Relly, Janchael, and Dwangela, but they did an awesome job with all of those last night. That's in spite of the fact that two of those four (I won't say who so that you can watch the episode online and by clicking on the video link NBC knows that millions across the country actually watch the show and it can stay on for four hundred more years) didn't survive the night. My gut tells me both couples will be back together soon, and we'll be all the better for it.
Ahh, five day weekends. I'm gonna go spend mine now studying for the GMAT. It's a comfort to me knowing that tonight while all of you are getting loaded and participating in marvelous random hookups, you'll simultaneously envy me while I'm on my fourth cup of coffee taking online diagnostics.
Out.
Fordham held its first "Senior Night" of the year. Twenty-one year old seniors are allowed to come, drink for two bucks a beer or glass of wine, and dance the night away with fellow seniors. What I enjoyed so much is that for once Fordham was selling something under 125% of market rate. Maybe it's because Jesuits are such fans of brewskies. Anyway, I was please to find that I recognized about 90% of the people there. Of this group, a third of them I know well enough to chat with, another third I see sporadically on campus or in class, and the rest I thought died or worse transferred because I haven't seen them since freshman year in my random liberal arts core classes. I believe a good time was had by all; it was by me at least, and I look forward to next month's 80s theme.
For those of you who watch The Office, last night was so much better than the season premiere. I like the direction they're going in with Ryan, once-temp-now-boss, being villain-istic. I mean it was set up nicely the past two seasons with exposing him as a heartless corporate type more suited for Lehman than a failing regional paper company in Scranton, PA. I know I've been whining lately about devoting too much time to the romances of Jam, Relly, Janchael, and Dwangela, but they did an awesome job with all of those last night. That's in spite of the fact that two of those four (I won't say who so that you can watch the episode online and by clicking on the video link NBC knows that millions across the country actually watch the show and it can stay on for four hundred more years) didn't survive the night. My gut tells me both couples will be back together soon, and we'll be all the better for it.
Ahh, five day weekends. I'm gonna go spend mine now studying for the GMAT. It's a comfort to me knowing that tonight while all of you are getting loaded and participating in marvelous random hookups, you'll simultaneously envy me while I'm on my fourth cup of coffee taking online diagnostics.
Out.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Getting to Know Me, Getting to Know All About Me
What has two thumbs and is insane enough to take a class on Labor Day weekend? This guy!
This class, however, had nothing to do with theory or learning content about your traditional subjects. If it were as such, I likely would have turned down the opportunity. Heading into my senior year I don't much worry about the accounting topics I haven't learned. Working this summer made me realize that the hands-on stuff is so much more important anyway. The most essential thing I want to glean out of the next few months is how to transition out of being coddled in academia into being open to the uncertainty that comes with real adulthood. Luckily this course fell squarely into that niche.
"Self Leadership and Life After Fordham" guided me on a journey from startling confusion to utter frustration, and finally to optimistic uncertainty. The professor challenged us to identify our strengths. This had nothing to do with using our talents to make us financially satisfied, but everything to do with matching those strengths to discover our "sweet spot" which will allow us to live the good life. This good life, according to the author Seligman, means happiness and success.
After completing a 240-question self-assessment, I discovered my top strengths were identified as gratitude, kindness/generosity, spirituality, zest and enthusiasm, and the capacity to love and be loved. Enter the aforementioned startling confusion and utter frustration. Am I a future accountant or an aspiring priest? I can't say I disagree with this strength assessment. These are all major pieces of who I am. But they always struck me as my general personality, not something that would necessarily form my career. Yet through further work in something called Hogan Personality Inventory, I discovered that my primary motivators were recognition, affiliation, and altruism. Money ranked fifth out of ten. I'm not sure I know a lot of accountants like that.
Upon revealing my strengths and motivators to the class, my professor told me these were all marks of a teacher. Funny thing is, I occasionally imagined myself working in the field during my twenties and thirties and then transferring careers once my family started to grow (read: get needy). I would love to teach either accounting or finance as I always find myself thinking of how I'd explain certain concepts to a group of college kids.
None of this has changed my decision to start in public accounting and then see what's out there after I become a CPA. What comes after is up to what I think at that point.
This class, however, had nothing to do with theory or learning content about your traditional subjects. If it were as such, I likely would have turned down the opportunity. Heading into my senior year I don't much worry about the accounting topics I haven't learned. Working this summer made me realize that the hands-on stuff is so much more important anyway. The most essential thing I want to glean out of the next few months is how to transition out of being coddled in academia into being open to the uncertainty that comes with real adulthood. Luckily this course fell squarely into that niche.
"Self Leadership and Life After Fordham" guided me on a journey from startling confusion to utter frustration, and finally to optimistic uncertainty. The professor challenged us to identify our strengths. This had nothing to do with using our talents to make us financially satisfied, but everything to do with matching those strengths to discover our "sweet spot" which will allow us to live the good life. This good life, according to the author Seligman, means happiness and success.
After completing a 240-question self-assessment, I discovered my top strengths were identified as gratitude, kindness/generosity, spirituality, zest and enthusiasm, and the capacity to love and be loved. Enter the aforementioned startling confusion and utter frustration. Am I a future accountant or an aspiring priest? I can't say I disagree with this strength assessment. These are all major pieces of who I am. But they always struck me as my general personality, not something that would necessarily form my career. Yet through further work in something called Hogan Personality Inventory, I discovered that my primary motivators were recognition, affiliation, and altruism. Money ranked fifth out of ten. I'm not sure I know a lot of accountants like that.
Upon revealing my strengths and motivators to the class, my professor told me these were all marks of a teacher. Funny thing is, I occasionally imagined myself working in the field during my twenties and thirties and then transferring careers once my family started to grow (read: get needy). I would love to teach either accounting or finance as I always find myself thinking of how I'd explain certain concepts to a group of college kids.
None of this has changed my decision to start in public accounting and then see what's out there after I become a CPA. What comes after is up to what I think at that point.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Which of the following is an umbrella term for psychological disorders NOT considered part of an entity's internal control structure?
That basically sums up my 9:30-2 today.
I now have four finals under my belt. Two on Tuesday and two today. Any energy remaining in my system has been channelled into catching up on Runner's World and writing a little. I just need to get through the Mets game tomorrow night. A warm, late-spring night at Shea ain't nothing to complain about, but because of the energy I usually exert rooting for my favorite baldplayers, I should probably take a nap tomorrow.
Speaking of my favorite leisure time (um, what's that?) activity, I spend the vast majority of my drive time between February and October listening to WFAN-NY 660AM. Aside from the black hole left by nappygate, the station is entirely sports talk. If you've ever encountered a New York sports fan, you probably noticed that, while very knowledgeable of the subject, his speech was filled with mania coupled with the occasional droning. WFAN hosts do not disappoint. Their personalities and styles are what make the station among the most listened to by men 18-54 years of age. Credit to Toastedjoe for creating a game in response to the loveable talking heads that involves everyone's favorite activity - drinking:
"The rules are simple. During any WFAN broadcast, take a drink whenever any of the following events take place:
1. Every time Joe Beningo says "ohhh, the pain!"
2. Every time Steve Sommers uses a Yiddish word.
3. Every time Mike Francesa repeats himself over the course of a show (warning: may result in alcohol poisoning)
4. Every time a Yankee fan caller says the word "Jee-tuh."
5. Every time you laugh at the mental image of Mike and Dog "goin' at it as hard as they can!" (actual line from their theme song)
6. Every time Beningo says "...when of COUUUURSE..."
7. Every time you hear the words "first time, long time."
8. Every time Doggie says "If that happens....I'll live wit' it. I'll live wit' it."
9. Every time Francesa cuts off a stupid caller by saying "You're gone...goodbye. Goodbye."
10. Every time Doggie cackles.
11. Every time Beningo says "...and you just KNOW" something bad will happen to the Mets, Jets, Rangers, or Knicks.
12. Every time Richard Neer asks himself a question and gives a wishy-washy answer ("Will Pedro's injury hurt the Mets in the long run? I don't know.")
13. Every time Doggie says "waaaaaaaaw!!"
14. Every time Mike and Dog read a Steinbrenner "missive."
15. Every time Sweeney Murti calls in and kisses some Yankee ass.
16. Every time Mike and/or Dog bash Mets management.
17. Every time Doggie's basis for an argument is "that's all there is to it." (e.g., "Coughlin's gotta kick the field goal there, that's all there is to it.")
18. Every time Beningo mentions Scott Kazmir.
Happy drinkin'!"
Each morning I lend an ear to whomever is replacing the nationally syndicated Imus spot for the day. This morning's attempt to give a chance to the garden-variety talker yielded the following brief exchange between the radio and myself, followed by an immediate changing of the dial:
Radio announcer: You're listening to Geraldo Rivera on SportsRadio66 WFAN New York.
Me: Noo I'm not. Don Imus must be rolling in his grave.
The studios are in Astoria, Queens. I should get there at six each morning, do a four hour show, and head to school. I've got to be less maddening than Geraldo and I definitely would command a smaller salary. Get at me, (station manager) Chernoff.
End FAN talk.
I don't know what I want to do when I grew up. I had it figured out so much better when I looked like this. Kudos to Cousin Dylan for being awesome and now cancer-free.
I now have four finals under my belt. Two on Tuesday and two today. Any energy remaining in my system has been channelled into catching up on Runner's World and writing a little. I just need to get through the Mets game tomorrow night. A warm, late-spring night at Shea ain't nothing to complain about, but because of the energy I usually exert rooting for my favorite baldplayers, I should probably take a nap tomorrow.
Speaking of my favorite leisure time (um, what's that?) activity, I spend the vast majority of my drive time between February and October listening to WFAN-NY 660AM. Aside from the black hole left by nappygate, the station is entirely sports talk. If you've ever encountered a New York sports fan, you probably noticed that, while very knowledgeable of the subject, his speech was filled with mania coupled with the occasional droning. WFAN hosts do not disappoint. Their personalities and styles are what make the station among the most listened to by men 18-54 years of age. Credit to Toastedjoe for creating a game in response to the loveable talking heads that involves everyone's favorite activity - drinking:
"The rules are simple. During any WFAN broadcast, take a drink whenever any of the following events take place:
1. Every time Joe Beningo says "ohhh, the pain!"
2. Every time Steve Sommers uses a Yiddish word.
3. Every time Mike Francesa repeats himself over the course of a show (warning: may result in alcohol poisoning)
4. Every time a Yankee fan caller says the word "Jee-tuh."
5. Every time you laugh at the mental image of Mike and Dog "goin' at it as hard as they can!" (actual line from their theme song)
6. Every time Beningo says "...when of COUUUURSE..."
7. Every time you hear the words "first time, long time."
8. Every time Doggie says "If that happens....I'll live wit' it. I'll live wit' it."
9. Every time Francesa cuts off a stupid caller by saying "You're gone...goodbye. Goodbye."
10. Every time Doggie cackles.
11. Every time Beningo says "...and you just KNOW" something bad will happen to the Mets, Jets, Rangers, or Knicks.
12. Every time Richard Neer asks himself a question and gives a wishy-washy answer ("Will Pedro's injury hurt the Mets in the long run? I don't know.")
13. Every time Doggie says "waaaaaaaaw!!"
14. Every time Mike and Dog read a Steinbrenner "missive."
15. Every time Sweeney Murti calls in and kisses some Yankee ass.
16. Every time Mike and/or Dog bash Mets management.
17. Every time Doggie's basis for an argument is "that's all there is to it." (e.g., "Coughlin's gotta kick the field goal there, that's all there is to it.")
18. Every time Beningo mentions Scott Kazmir.
Happy drinkin'!"
Each morning I lend an ear to whomever is replacing the nationally syndicated Imus spot for the day. This morning's attempt to give a chance to the garden-variety talker yielded the following brief exchange between the radio and myself, followed by an immediate changing of the dial:
Radio announcer: You're listening to Geraldo Rivera on SportsRadio66 WFAN New York.
Me: Noo I'm not. Don Imus must be rolling in his grave.
The studios are in Astoria, Queens. I should get there at six each morning, do a four hour show, and head to school. I've got to be less maddening than Geraldo and I definitely would command a smaller salary. Get at me, (station manager) Chernoff.
End FAN talk.
I don't know what I want to do when I grew up. I had it figured out so much better when I looked like this. Kudos to Cousin Dylan for being awesome and now cancer-free.
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