Olympics Part Deux

The last weekend of the Olympics ended up being a bit of a gong show (as it should've been in my opinion). The Significant Other flew in on the Tuesday, and then my childhood best friend and her boyfriend flew in on the Friday. We went for a proper drunken stumble around downtown following the Canadian victory against Russia (I think - details are fuzzy) that night after watching the game with other friends at German house in Stanley park. We couldn't find a cab to get back downtown, so I actually took to flagging down random cars until someone stopped and drove us downtown. The driver told us that his son was selling his boat, so the Significant Other and I decided we would LOVE to buy his boat and I gave him my business card. I shouldn't be allowed to take business cards out drinking with me. Thank god he didn't call.

Since my friends were visiting as well we took them on tour to see all the wonderful things about Vancouver - the gayberhood complete with drag queen sightings, Granville St which literally looks like times square with all the neon signs since they finished construction and we took them to The Trifecta. The Trifecta is a corner on Granville where there is Pizza, Poutine, and Chinese food. I am truly sad that I didn't know about the Chinese food place earlier in life. The Chinese food is particularly of note because if you go in after 2am and order a pot of cold tea they will bring you beer in a tea pot and you can continue your evening... And that we did. Except that it was only mid night when we got there, so they looked at me like I was ridiculous when I ordered the cold tea and brought us beer in beer bottles.

The next morning poor the Significant Other ended up praying to the porcelain gods, so I decided since we had people staying with us, now would be a good time to give him his yoga pants so that he wasn't doing a show in his underwear. He decided that he had to give me my gift as well immediately after that, and he handed me a tiffany's bag along with the lovely commentary of "it's not a ring". So decidedly romantic.

We didn't get up to much the rest of that weekend because the Significant Other came down with a man cold (obviously a much worse cold than anything any woman has ever had), and refused to admit he had a cough, so he wouldn't take cough syrup and kept both of us up all night Sat night and then was unable to leave the couch on Sunday except for twenty minutes to go for a walk after CANADA WON GOLD.

And that was my Olympic experience. Not too shabby eh?

The Olympics Part One

With work slowing down a bit (perhaps for spring break), I decided I would sneak out for a quick trip to check out the Olympics in Vancouver Canada.

I have basically been out drinking every night since the Olympics started with the exception of Sunday night (my liver objected, and then my brain objected after the loss). I went to 2 hockey games, 3 victory ceremonies, curling and figure skating. I even got to take clients out to one of the victory ceremonies. This on top of working remotely a fair bit a lot (and in some cases when I get back to the hotel at 11pm...) is taking it's toll.

Saturday night definitely wins the random story award. I went to Ceilis which is a bar on Granville St (Party Central for the Olympics), so even though I budged in line, I still had to stand in line for a good 45 minutes. By the time I got inside, the girlfriend I went to go meet was leaving, and my guy friend was so drunk that he poured a beer on me, and doesn't remember even seeing me that night. I ended up hanging out with other friends inside the bar, because I was sooooo not going home early after all that. I left to go back to my hotel around 1:30, and this guy on the street handed me a ticket to Club Bud. You can only get into Club Bud if you're a bit of a celeb (there was a legit red carpet I walked - no big deal). Anyways turns out the guy works for the PR company this is pretty much running the Olympics, so he hooked me up with his coworker's phone number who was managing the media at the Bay (which is stupid hard to get into - 2hr line up minimum). I got to go through the media entrance to do my shopping which would've been really cool except that there's nothing left to buy. I bought a little boys hoodie and that was it.

Second place random story goes to my curling adventure. I went on Wednesday to curling with one of my girlfriends. We ended up sitting next to a guy that plays a recurring role as a fire fighter on Greys Anatomy. No. Big. Deal. I haven't actually checked that he's in an episode yet, he claims episode 6 of this season, but either way I'm going to be pumped.

The significant other gets into town the day after tomorrow and we're doing Valentines this weekend, so I got him two pairs of yoga pants, one to make up for the ones I ruined in the flood, and one so he can have yoga pants that live in NNYC. He said whatever he got me was on hold somewhere... me thinks he hasn't actually picked it out yet hahaha.

Damn it feels good to be a banker

Well dirty rotten confession time, I broke down and called a recruiter. I just wanted to have a quick peek at the other side of the fence to get a reality check, and oh did I ever.

The specific job I was interested in was in corporate development, something I believe I will probably eventually go into, unless I become a life'er. I guess it can be fun to dream about being on the other side of the table, lobbing in ridiculous requests at 5:30pm on the Friday before a long weekend, because you can. To rock the 8 to 5 life style and actually do things on weekends (although right now if work isn't ruining my weekend, CFA certainly is).

Anyways, I guess they closed the posting before I called because they hired an internal candidate, which was fine with me. They didn't post the location, and while I'm not in NYC, this job was in a far far FAR worse city.

I'm trying to keep perspective. This can be a tough job, but at the end of the day, I generally like what I do, I don't really mind the hours, I certainly love the pay, and ...

Damn it feels good to be a banker.

My first mental health day

I have ALWAYS hated taking days off when I’m sick. I have asthma, so growing up I got bronchitis 8 times every winter and there was nothing I could do but head straight to the doctor for another set of antibiotics. Don’t get me wrong, I was a really healthy kid, played tons of soccer, ate healthy, and perhaps didn’t wash my hands as much as I should have, but what kid does right? Anyways, I almost never missed a day of school with all the sickness. Even when I split my lip open in grade 10 and was in the emergency room until almost 2 in the morning, I was still back at school the next day (with an distinctly larger lip, but that’s unimportant). This is not to say that I’ve NEVER taken a sick day, but very few.

Yesterday however, I took a sick day. I didn’t have anything physically wrong with me, just an upset stomach, but I just needed a day off so I decided to stay home. At first I was wracked with guilt, but then I took a nap, and woke up feeling decidedly happy about my decision. I even called the Significant Other to confess and he though it was a great idea. So I spent my day yesterday, not doing ridiculous mind numbing analysis, but instead drinking gingerale and eating crackers while on the couch watching my boxed set of SATC (anyone else excited for the next movie?!)

Best decision I’ve made in 2010. Can’t say I’ll be doing it often, but I certainly did appreciate it.

Bring on the blogging!

My favorite blogger made a resolution to blog more in 2010, and while my resolution is to be a less stressed out person (I rejected other options like: drink less, shop less, no more new shoes every month), I think that blogging more is a terrific idea so I shall.

To bring you up to date in the goings on in NNYC, a few updates:

1) My roommate moved out about a month after moving in (and signing a year lease) to move in with her boyfriend. That lasted all of 3 weeks, and in a hilarious twist of fate, she actually moved back into my building in a different suite. I asked her to find someone to move in and she did - her little brother's sort-of girlfriend. Except that it appears he doesn't really like her, and the first 3 months of the New Roommate involved listening to what mean things the Little Brother did. As way of back ground, Little Brother is a plumber with a gap teeth, so while possibly a really nice guy, I hardly think he is worth the 8+ months of heartache New Roommate is dealing with. I might have to come up with a better moniker for her...

2) I'm beginning the awful road of CFA Level 2 again. Not looking forward to this, but at least since I'm doing a victory lap, it will be more a case of review than new learning

3) We traded analysts with our head office. Gone is Anime guy and arrived is Hardcore guy. He's from our M&A group, and to their credit they tend to work 50% more than other iBanking groups, but the attitude is not so necessary. It's got to be difficult knowing everything about everything no?

4) I managed to get back to my home for Christmas. The Significant Other and my family's met and shared Christmas dinner - a whole post to follow on the hilarity of that.

I think that covers the major items. It's bit sad how boring I am... Hopefully someone enjoys reading this. Look forward to some new posts.

The Jet Plane Toilet

Alright so day 1 of being hardcore went well. First analyst in, last one to leave. There wasn't much work to do yesterday, but I set up a bunch more news alerts so I can be on top of things.

It's a gloriously sunny day here, so it's making being inside, and not having a heck of a lot to do a bit tough. But it's okay because I'm hardcore. So in light of all this extra time, I will regale you with the story of the jet place toliet.

Yes, you read that correctly. I moved into a new apartment over the summer, and at first was quite taken with the place, but the toliet seemed to be acting funny, and by funny, I mean it made ridiculously loud noises whenever you flushed it, that sounded entirely similar (including the level of noise) to a jet plane. This was something I was willing to deal with for a medium period of time given that I felt ridiculous (and still do) having to explain to people what that noise was, and trying not to get frightened when using it at 3am after a night of drinking. Eventually however I cracked and decided I had to call The Landlord. The conversation went a bit like this:

"Oh ahem hello... it's Favorite Tenant"

"Hello Favorite, how are you?"

"Oh excellent, I was just calling about a bit of a problem with the toliet"

And on we went with me trying to describe the toliet issue without using the words Jet Plane, because who in their right minds would take me seriously? (I will give you a clue, it's not The Landlord) Well I ended up having to use the words Jet Plane after The Landlord refused to accept that the loud noise was merely the toliet running and that all I needed to do was take the lid off the tank and tighten the chain.

"A jet plane?"

"Yes, a jet plane. I think this has to be a bit of a nuisance to the neighbors as well."

"Really, a jet plane?"

"Yes, really, a jet plane. That loud"

"Like a jet plane?"

"YES!!! a jet plane, can I please get a plumber?"

This ridiculousness and his incredulity continued on for a good 5 minutes until he finally crumbled and agreed to have a plumber call me so I could set up a time for him to come fix the toliet. The saga continued however when the plumber he chose lived in one of the outer boroughs of NNYC, and only came downtown between the hours of 11am and 3pm. Who has time to meet a plumber between 11am and 3pm??? We managed to meet after 3 weeks of phone tag and only after I convinced him to come downtown at the ridiculously early hour of 9am. Then, of course, the toliet wouldn't do it's thing and make the noise. Naturally.

The plumber did have a look though and agreed with me that something or other was worn out, he replaced it and was on his way.

Thus ended The Jet Plane Toliet.

In which I yet again pledge to work harder

Anyone else out there watch Grey's Anatomy? Well I'm obsessed with it (sidebar: Private Practice is so kicking Grey's butt thus far this season, but I still love my Grey's). Anyways last week's episode was all about how hard core you could be with Yang and Little Grey taking it to a new level and doning diapers for surgery so they could go hours without taking breaks.

I have come to the conclusion that I need to be more hardcore about work. I like to think I'm a very efficient worker, getting out of something as much as possible, but I think I need to flip that mentality around and put in as much as possible, and see what the results are. A hunger for work that has been lacking, a need to do more, work longer, try harder.

So, today is day 1. You're probably asking what the heck I'm doing blogging then, instead of working, well there's not much to do right now. I'm waiting for the markets to have been closed for an hour so I can update some daily stuff. But I am hardcore, and will stay late tonight, just to stay late. Seems silly, but I'm hardcore and don't have time for silly.

fice for 2 hours, while I make some head way. He pokes his head into the pit to check up, and it becomes apparent that he has done nothing for the last two hours while I worked. This upsets me more than slightly given that it's Friday night and this isn't my file. I manage to contain my frustration, but only for about another half hour when I declare I have to take off.

If I was more hardcore, I wouldn't have cared, and I could've stayed and ground through that work, but instead I just wanted to go home and make Halloween costumes.

So hardcore it is.