Every now and then I get the feeling that the universe is trying to tell me something. And in the cases when I’m not paying attention or choosing to ignore, beat me over the head with something. I haven’t believed in resolutions since I was a kid. I got to the gym on a regular basis and can affirm that New Year’s resolutioners really do quit going by the end of January. Abstract resolutions aren’t sustainable. Concrete goals are. So I’ve always been more of a goal person. This year however, the universe is definitely trying to tell me something.
It started with an article in Runner’s World. Kristin Armstrong had written an article about choosing a word for the year to be the theme, motto, bottom line of 2011. Not one to be held back by mere rules, Kristin picked three words: joy, connection and balls. I immediately began thinking of what my word for 2011 would be. I really wanted to copy balls, but since I probably need to tone that part of me down, I decided it wasn’t the right choice this year. I liked the idea of this so much that I shared it with one of my cousins. She in turn pointed me in the direction of another person who wrote about choosing a word for the year and informed me she had done so herself the previous year. At this point, I was still just appreciating the idea of a word, but wasn’t fully committed to the idea. While still pondering the idea of finding the perfect word for me, I watched Eat, Love, Pray. Not my typical choice in movie, but this is where the universe started to beat me over the head. One of the themes of that movie is the main character trying to find her word. Okay universe, I’m listening.
I decided I didn’t want my word to be something that had to do with the outside me. I didn’t want to be “slim” or “diet” for a year. If I was going to do this, then I may as well challenge myself. Because nobody is a better competitor against myself than me. I pondered the word cake for a while, and then ice cream. And then realized I’d gotten off track and I should probably eat some real food. I decided to stop thinking about it and let the word come to me. It was already the end of January, and clearly I hadn’t been punished for not having chosen a word at midnight on the 31st. However long it took for me to settle on a word was how long it would take and that would be okay. Gee, this exercise has already taught me patience!
After days of mulling words over in my mind, I believe I’ve settled on “open.” This year I’m going to be open to getting out of my comfort zone, trying new things and meeting new people. Open to trying weird foods or going someplace new. Open to seeing what the universe is going to bring me in this new decade of life. I thought about adding austerity to the list, but that sounded about as much fun diet. So I’m sticking with open for the time being, with an option to supplement the list as the year progresses.
Open. It’ll be interesting to see what the year, and my word, brings.
January 26, 2011
January 24, 2011
Long-Term Investing
I have this theory that the shows Friends and Sex and the City cover almost every topic that can possibly come up in life. Add How I Met Your Mother into the mix and all the holes are plugged. There is an answer for and an episode of TV that covers any situation we may encounter as adults. In working in the finance industry for the past eight-ish years, I’ve come to discover that finance can also be translated to real world scenarios. And perhaps best of all, we think we’re hilarious when coming up with these finance/life analogies. (I’ve yet to determine if anyone outside of finance finds these analogies amusing or useful).
Years ago, we came up with the theory that people can be categorized into the same asset buckets that we use for finance. I’m sure I’ve written about this phenomenon, and the corresponding explanation, in a previous blog so I won’t bore you with the details here. Suffice to say that it was unanimously determined that if I were an asset class, I’d be fixed income. After some additional discussion, I argued my way up to being deemed Core Plus (fixed income that is allowed to invest in up to 10% high yield, which is riskier fixed income). Long story short, I’m stable and not terribly exciting. No one in our office lines up to listen to the visiting bond manager speak. It’s not super sexy like hedge funds or emerging markets, but it’s something that most people feel is important enough to be included in their portfolios.
Years ago, I had some friends that were introducing me to another friend of theirs. Little did I know that apparently the most used adjective to describe me was “stable.” It wasn’t until I’d been hanging out with this person for a while that he said, “They were right, you really are stable!” I’m pretty sure he thought he was giving me a compliment. Boys, I have to tell you; stable should not be the lead off batter when giving compliments. It is not a homerun. Girls would prefer to be told they’re beautiful or cute or even funny, but stable implies boring.
He wasn’t wrong though, I am stable and consistent and even keeled. I don’t have huge mood swings and make very conscious decisions about all aspects of my life. So yes, all this adds up to stable. Although I’d argue that I keep the boring side to myself, my friends get the fun part of stable. The part that organized the majority of our fun outings.
It wasn’t until I stumbled upon a study that my company had completed recently that I realized how good being stable was. In our industry, clients want to invest with money managers who are the best. So we did a study to see over time, who was the best? It turns out, that while being ranked number one is sexy any given year, a manager who performed consistently in the middle of the pack is the better performer over a longer track record.
So applying that logic to real life, an investment in me isn’t going to make you rich instantly. Even my friends would tell you that I’m a long term investment since I warm up slowly. I’m not a flashy or sexy investment, but over the long term, I’m a pretty solid investment. Now I just have to find the right long-term investor.
Years ago, we came up with the theory that people can be categorized into the same asset buckets that we use for finance. I’m sure I’ve written about this phenomenon, and the corresponding explanation, in a previous blog so I won’t bore you with the details here. Suffice to say that it was unanimously determined that if I were an asset class, I’d be fixed income. After some additional discussion, I argued my way up to being deemed Core Plus (fixed income that is allowed to invest in up to 10% high yield, which is riskier fixed income). Long story short, I’m stable and not terribly exciting. No one in our office lines up to listen to the visiting bond manager speak. It’s not super sexy like hedge funds or emerging markets, but it’s something that most people feel is important enough to be included in their portfolios.
Years ago, I had some friends that were introducing me to another friend of theirs. Little did I know that apparently the most used adjective to describe me was “stable.” It wasn’t until I’d been hanging out with this person for a while that he said, “They were right, you really are stable!” I’m pretty sure he thought he was giving me a compliment. Boys, I have to tell you; stable should not be the lead off batter when giving compliments. It is not a homerun. Girls would prefer to be told they’re beautiful or cute or even funny, but stable implies boring.
He wasn’t wrong though, I am stable and consistent and even keeled. I don’t have huge mood swings and make very conscious decisions about all aspects of my life. So yes, all this adds up to stable. Although I’d argue that I keep the boring side to myself, my friends get the fun part of stable. The part that organized the majority of our fun outings.
It wasn’t until I stumbled upon a study that my company had completed recently that I realized how good being stable was. In our industry, clients want to invest with money managers who are the best. So we did a study to see over time, who was the best? It turns out, that while being ranked number one is sexy any given year, a manager who performed consistently in the middle of the pack is the better performer over a longer track record.
So applying that logic to real life, an investment in me isn’t going to make you rich instantly. Even my friends would tell you that I’m a long term investment since I warm up slowly. I’m not a flashy or sexy investment, but over the long term, I’m a pretty solid investment. Now I just have to find the right long-term investor.
January 17, 2011
Childhood Vacations
One of the things I always appreciated about my parents, well appreciate now, is that they dragged my brother and I all over the western States and Canada to make sure we saw things. I’ve been to Mount Rushmore and the Black Hills in South Dakota, Banff and Lake Louise in Alberta, seen the red dirt in Southern Utah and been to many a battlefield and National Park.
As an adult, I’m impressed with the fact that my mom forced us to take a family vacation every year to experience something together. Now I realize that it was likely a financial stress to do this each year, but it was something that my mom believed was really important. Because of that, I’m one of the few people who live in Oregon who have actually been to Crater Lake. And now that I am an adult, I wish I had a do-over at a lot of those places they took us to see. For at least half of the trips I was a very surly teenager, sulking in the back seat of our mini van and the other half I was too young to remember clearly.
Over the past few years, I’ve started to re-see some of these places. I took a trip home one summer and did Glacier and Yellowstone for the first time in at least 15 years. We also squeezed in a side trip to Big Hole National Battlefield, which I studied as a kid in Montana History. I had an opportunity to go back up Vancouver Island this past summer. And I always try and make a stop at Disneyland when in Southern California. My dad and I were just talking about how we’d like to go see Custer’s Last Stand again. I have a very distinct memory of visiting that particular battlefield, but would like to see it again as an adult who better understands the history and significance of that event.
As we kids got older, we’d often travel with another family. Our dads are best friends and enjoy the same things so I wish I were kidding when I say that I’m sure we’ve stopped at 90% of the historical markers in the Pacific Northwest. We frequently took trips out to the coast in the summers together. I have a picture from one summer around 6th grade with us four kids standing in front of Multnomah Falls. Amazingly through the years, I’ve stayed good friends with their son, Nate, and since he only lives a few short hours from me, we try and make a habit of meeting up every few months. I’ll either stop by on my way home from Seattle or we make plans to go explore someplace.
When we opt for the exploring option, we often end up going back to places we went as kids. Over Memorial Day, we met at Mt. St. Helens, as neither of us had been there in close to 20 years. It was so foggy that day you couldn’t even see the mountain, but it was fun to go back someplace that we’d been as kids. Next weekend we’re meeting up on the Oregon Coast to go to the Lewis and Clark National Park. If you’re from Montana, you’ve studied Lewis and Clark. I’ve gone so far, thanks to my dad, to having floated down a section of the Missouri River that they did hundreds of years before me. And as a kid, no trip to the Oregon Coast was complete without a stop at Fort Clatsop.
I’ve tried for years to get my Portland friends to go with me to Fort Clatsop again, and even when we’re already out at the coast for a long weekend, I’ve had no luck. So I was thrilled when Nate suggested we head there to meet up next weekend. After talking to him though, the Goertzens must have done Fort Clatsop more than his family, because I distinctly remember walking around there and buying a souvenir to hopefully get extra credit in 7th grade Montana History. Nate however, remembers our dads going to see the Fort and accidently taking his glasses with them, while we played on the beach.
I’m so thankful that my mom made us go to all kinds of places we thought were boring as kids. It’s nice to be able to say I’ve been to and seen well known places. And some lesser known places. And for taking me while I was a surly teenager. The woman should get a medal for that alone. Even more importantly, I’m thankful that she installed a desire to travel and see things in me, even if it’s something in my backyard. And it’s fun to have those childhood friends to re-discover your past trips with. Watch out Fort Clatsop, we’re coming back.
As an adult, I’m impressed with the fact that my mom forced us to take a family vacation every year to experience something together. Now I realize that it was likely a financial stress to do this each year, but it was something that my mom believed was really important. Because of that, I’m one of the few people who live in Oregon who have actually been to Crater Lake. And now that I am an adult, I wish I had a do-over at a lot of those places they took us to see. For at least half of the trips I was a very surly teenager, sulking in the back seat of our mini van and the other half I was too young to remember clearly.
Over the past few years, I’ve started to re-see some of these places. I took a trip home one summer and did Glacier and Yellowstone for the first time in at least 15 years. We also squeezed in a side trip to Big Hole National Battlefield, which I studied as a kid in Montana History. I had an opportunity to go back up Vancouver Island this past summer. And I always try and make a stop at Disneyland when in Southern California. My dad and I were just talking about how we’d like to go see Custer’s Last Stand again. I have a very distinct memory of visiting that particular battlefield, but would like to see it again as an adult who better understands the history and significance of that event.
As we kids got older, we’d often travel with another family. Our dads are best friends and enjoy the same things so I wish I were kidding when I say that I’m sure we’ve stopped at 90% of the historical markers in the Pacific Northwest. We frequently took trips out to the coast in the summers together. I have a picture from one summer around 6th grade with us four kids standing in front of Multnomah Falls. Amazingly through the years, I’ve stayed good friends with their son, Nate, and since he only lives a few short hours from me, we try and make a habit of meeting up every few months. I’ll either stop by on my way home from Seattle or we make plans to go explore someplace.
When we opt for the exploring option, we often end up going back to places we went as kids. Over Memorial Day, we met at Mt. St. Helens, as neither of us had been there in close to 20 years. It was so foggy that day you couldn’t even see the mountain, but it was fun to go back someplace that we’d been as kids. Next weekend we’re meeting up on the Oregon Coast to go to the Lewis and Clark National Park. If you’re from Montana, you’ve studied Lewis and Clark. I’ve gone so far, thanks to my dad, to having floated down a section of the Missouri River that they did hundreds of years before me. And as a kid, no trip to the Oregon Coast was complete without a stop at Fort Clatsop.
I’ve tried for years to get my Portland friends to go with me to Fort Clatsop again, and even when we’re already out at the coast for a long weekend, I’ve had no luck. So I was thrilled when Nate suggested we head there to meet up next weekend. After talking to him though, the Goertzens must have done Fort Clatsop more than his family, because I distinctly remember walking around there and buying a souvenir to hopefully get extra credit in 7th grade Montana History. Nate however, remembers our dads going to see the Fort and accidently taking his glasses with them, while we played on the beach.
I’m so thankful that my mom made us go to all kinds of places we thought were boring as kids. It’s nice to be able to say I’ve been to and seen well known places. And some lesser known places. And for taking me while I was a surly teenager. The woman should get a medal for that alone. Even more importantly, I’m thankful that she installed a desire to travel and see things in me, even if it’s something in my backyard. And it’s fun to have those childhood friends to re-discover your past trips with. Watch out Fort Clatsop, we’re coming back.
January 7, 2011
The Taj III
For Christmas, Santa brought me a new tent. The Taj III. A Taj Mahal made for 3 people. Or two people and some gear. Or a tent palace for just me. One that (hopefully) doesn’t leak at all, much less through every single part of the tent. Before leaving to return to my small Portland apartment, my dad suggested we practice setting it up in the basement.
Tent makers have gotten smarter and now print the directions right on the bag. No more excuses that you used the directions to start a fire last time and now you can’t remember how to set up your tent (I’m not even making that story up). However step one was to stake down the tent if it was windy out. I licked my finger, stuck it up in the air and just as I suspected, no wind in the basement. So I quit reading step one and moved to step two. Do you remember those tests that said “read all questions before beginning,” and of course the last question/direction was to sign your name, and don’t answer any of the questions? Yeah, I always sucked at that one too. And the directions didn’t make sense to me (of course I’d missed half of step one). So like I do with most of my life, I figured I’d do it my own way.
It wasn’t until my dad stopped even attempting to help me that I realized maybe we should look at the directions again. Since he is clearly smarter than I am, I made him read them. They made more sense coming from him than from the bag for some reason. Eventually we successfully set up the tent in the basement, rain fly and all.
Having successfully set up my tent once, I am ready to go camping! Unfortunately the high temperature is about 40 (F) and it’s been raining an awful lot. While my tent may not leak, I rarely choose to camp in the rain. So I did the next best thing and emailed all my friends to set up a weekend to go camping this summer.
Since I am the only person in my crew of friends to have grown up in the country, it’s my responsibility to get these city folks in the outdoors every now and then. We’ve gone at least three times now and every year I try and introduce new people. This year I think I’ve talked one of my favorite friends into going camping for the first time. Her stipulations were a shower and a Starbucks nearby. The shower isn’t a problem. The chai tea latte she prefers may be trickier. I’ve told her it’s a done deal, even though it’s a bit of a trek to the Starbucks. No worries though, my friend Jake usually brings his latte machine and generator to run it.
I told you, these are city folks. Latte machines are a necessity of camping for them. And to be completely honest, I’ve never turned down the freshly made Americano over cowboy coffee when I go with them. Or the shower. The first year I pulled out my hatchet and no one could figure out why I’d brought an axe camping. Last year, someone brought dura-flame logs to start the fire. And then proceeded to up-wrap them and be stumped about how to get them lit.
While my friends may not be Montana camping trained, the best thing about them is they always try. They continue to humor me year after year with a camping trip. They always sign on to come along, have fun and make a memorable experience. We’ve camped in the rain and sunshine together. Played line tag in the sand dunes, sat on the beach looking at the stars, gone swimming in the rain, and laughed around the campfire. They may not be experienced lifelong campers, but we always manage to have a heck of a good time.
Tent makers have gotten smarter and now print the directions right on the bag. No more excuses that you used the directions to start a fire last time and now you can’t remember how to set up your tent (I’m not even making that story up). However step one was to stake down the tent if it was windy out. I licked my finger, stuck it up in the air and just as I suspected, no wind in the basement. So I quit reading step one and moved to step two. Do you remember those tests that said “read all questions before beginning,” and of course the last question/direction was to sign your name, and don’t answer any of the questions? Yeah, I always sucked at that one too. And the directions didn’t make sense to me (of course I’d missed half of step one). So like I do with most of my life, I figured I’d do it my own way.
It wasn’t until my dad stopped even attempting to help me that I realized maybe we should look at the directions again. Since he is clearly smarter than I am, I made him read them. They made more sense coming from him than from the bag for some reason. Eventually we successfully set up the tent in the basement, rain fly and all.
Having successfully set up my tent once, I am ready to go camping! Unfortunately the high temperature is about 40 (F) and it’s been raining an awful lot. While my tent may not leak, I rarely choose to camp in the rain. So I did the next best thing and emailed all my friends to set up a weekend to go camping this summer.
Since I am the only person in my crew of friends to have grown up in the country, it’s my responsibility to get these city folks in the outdoors every now and then. We’ve gone at least three times now and every year I try and introduce new people. This year I think I’ve talked one of my favorite friends into going camping for the first time. Her stipulations were a shower and a Starbucks nearby. The shower isn’t a problem. The chai tea latte she prefers may be trickier. I’ve told her it’s a done deal, even though it’s a bit of a trek to the Starbucks. No worries though, my friend Jake usually brings his latte machine and generator to run it.
I told you, these are city folks. Latte machines are a necessity of camping for them. And to be completely honest, I’ve never turned down the freshly made Americano over cowboy coffee when I go with them. Or the shower. The first year I pulled out my hatchet and no one could figure out why I’d brought an axe camping. Last year, someone brought dura-flame logs to start the fire. And then proceeded to up-wrap them and be stumped about how to get them lit.
While my friends may not be Montana camping trained, the best thing about them is they always try. They continue to humor me year after year with a camping trip. They always sign on to come along, have fun and make a memorable experience. We’ve camped in the rain and sunshine together. Played line tag in the sand dunes, sat on the beach looking at the stars, gone swimming in the rain, and laughed around the campfire. They may not be experienced lifelong campers, but we always manage to have a heck of a good time.
January 5, 2011
Going Home
I like to read the advice columns from “Dear Prudie.” Not only does she offer interesting advice, it reminds me of how crazy and dramatic free my life is. Around the holidays is an especially interesting time to read the advice columns, because people’s families are insane. People having knock out fights over who cooks dinner and who’s invited. Lucky for me, my family gets along just fine.
In what appears to be the complete opposite of many people’s family gatherings, going home for Christmas is the most relaxing time I have all year. I have nothing I have to do and my cell phone doesn’t even work out there. Heck, even showering is optional. The most strenuous part of my day tends to be me duking it out with my piano. Since I only get to play once a year for a week, the first half of the week is a little rough while I try and force my fingers to move as fast as they did in high school.
I thought it would be weird to go home as an adult, but it’s not. It’s nice to be able to enjoy a bottle of wine with the family while we hang out in the kitchen getting dinner ready. My parents no longer yell at me to get my butt out of bed in the morning. Although since I no longer sleep until noon, that could be part of the reason. They don’t ask me to do much, especially since I willingly clean the kitchen all day long. And this year I even got a covered parking spot in the barn!
Best of all, I no longer have to fight with my brother over what to have for breakfast. This year, out of delight to have both children home (I’m assuming), my mom made both French toast and pancakes! I’m the French toast person, my brother is the pancakes. She did grumble a bit about the fact that we both still snitch bacon while she was cooking it though.
It’s amazing to go for a walk and not see a single other person or car. Just the occasional horse, cow, turkey, or deer. With the mountains rising majestically around our little valley and the sun shining, that stroll down LBC is one of my favorites in the world. So much a favorite, that I even did it when it was below zero this year (F).
Every time I have to leave it makes me sad. I didn’t even like saying goodbye to the dog this time. When I was in college and it was time to leave, my dad would start my car for me and leave money on the dash. This time he packed me an amazing lunch so I didn’t have to eat gas station food.
It’s nice to have a home that is a refuge instead of a battlefield like all those people that write in to Dear Prudie. I wish it were closer so I could relax more often in the comforts of my parents’ home. But knowing that come the end of December I’ll be admiring the mountains and trees with the wildlife meandering their way through the backyard while sitting next to a roaring fire makes the rest of the year a little easier.
In what appears to be the complete opposite of many people’s family gatherings, going home for Christmas is the most relaxing time I have all year. I have nothing I have to do and my cell phone doesn’t even work out there. Heck, even showering is optional. The most strenuous part of my day tends to be me duking it out with my piano. Since I only get to play once a year for a week, the first half of the week is a little rough while I try and force my fingers to move as fast as they did in high school.
I thought it would be weird to go home as an adult, but it’s not. It’s nice to be able to enjoy a bottle of wine with the family while we hang out in the kitchen getting dinner ready. My parents no longer yell at me to get my butt out of bed in the morning. Although since I no longer sleep until noon, that could be part of the reason. They don’t ask me to do much, especially since I willingly clean the kitchen all day long. And this year I even got a covered parking spot in the barn!
Best of all, I no longer have to fight with my brother over what to have for breakfast. This year, out of delight to have both children home (I’m assuming), my mom made both French toast and pancakes! I’m the French toast person, my brother is the pancakes. She did grumble a bit about the fact that we both still snitch bacon while she was cooking it though.
It’s amazing to go for a walk and not see a single other person or car. Just the occasional horse, cow, turkey, or deer. With the mountains rising majestically around our little valley and the sun shining, that stroll down LBC is one of my favorites in the world. So much a favorite, that I even did it when it was below zero this year (F).
Every time I have to leave it makes me sad. I didn’t even like saying goodbye to the dog this time. When I was in college and it was time to leave, my dad would start my car for me and leave money on the dash. This time he packed me an amazing lunch so I didn’t have to eat gas station food.
It’s nice to have a home that is a refuge instead of a battlefield like all those people that write in to Dear Prudie. I wish it were closer so I could relax more often in the comforts of my parents’ home. But knowing that come the end of December I’ll be admiring the mountains and trees with the wildlife meandering their way through the backyard while sitting next to a roaring fire makes the rest of the year a little easier.
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