Welcome to Kamp

It is still freezing in Cambridge but one of the teachers invited me to golf with him Friday after lunch.  We r not blowing off class-ends at 12 noon. 

Wahoo!

We had a lawyer speak to us this morning about time charter contracts. I can sum his class in 1 word-ZZZZZZ! So after the break a few of us went to Cambridge. We blew off class.

Peolple noticed I was gone thanks to my big mouth. The classroom was dead from 10-noon I heard. But we returned, told our story at lunch and inspired others to cut class in the afternoon. They had 3 bottles of wine at lunch--then 3 more at dinner.

The town is frog free in the day! Imagine that.

The afternoon class was so interesting. We heard about accidents and safety improvements over the years. I am glad I didn't blow off this class.

Games in the afternoon were fun but a few were too long and eventually became uninteresting. One was too short. I got soaked in one. Now, I can give DYC some game ideas for the church retreat.

Dinner was unusually bad--overcooked penne and bad pizza. The fondue dessert was ok though the caramel does not need lemon! What the?

The jazz club was very Greenwich Village but the clubby types didn't enjoy it. What we all enjoyed was seeing first-hand if the gossip were true. It's quite amazing how people who barely know each other last Sunday have bonded so quickly. Yes, some of us work with each other, but we're all professionals from different cultures, backgrounds. Yet...when someone said that G was maybe hooking up with H, a handful of us, some with cameras ready to click away, stormed up to his room, 222. Of course they were together! But clothes were still on.

It's also funny how guys of all parts of the world are into sports. The other day, a handful of them, literally shoveled their food down to watch a match--that's a soccer game for you Yanks. I stayed behind, but the women started laughing and talking about how their spouses and boyfriends do the same back home, whereever that is.

During dinner, my co-worker, K, from Rotterdam, and I, listened to our Len's directions to the Eagle Bar, where he would start the evening tour of his hometown, Cambridge. I figured it was easy to find since it in the center of town and was formerly owned by the Royal Air Force.

After dinner, some people decided to take a taxi--it is only 5 pounds and holds 7-8 people--very cheap and very easy. But some of us were stuffed and we decided to walk to the Eagle bar, which takes 20 minutes walking briskly.

But only K and I turned right at the end of the road as Roger said. Everyone else, went left, because that's where the taxis went upon returning to the Moller center. However, everyone forgot that the taxi could only go one way.

Our problem was that we didn't exactly listen to where were were supposed to start--at the end of some road 1/4 mile away. We assumed at the end of driveway. Thus, our journey was difficult--we circled around the campus of the wrong college (and there like 15 in Cambridge)--then we went 800 meters too far down a bridge to nowhere. It didn't help that neither of us, had a map, though there were many color printed ones "back home." hehe

Then, after 20 minutes of wandering, K and I stopped one guy who told us that to get to the centre of Cambridge, we had to cross the frog swamp. Hmmmm, I thought, that can't be too bad. Katrin asked about alternatives but the guy said, "cutting through the frog pond will only take 20 minutes, but going around will take much longer--maybe 45 minutes."

Guess which way we took? Yup, we went through the frong pond. It had a cement path and was fairly well lit--but we stepped on soooooo many frogs. Kermit would hate us. Ms. Piggy hates us! I've never seen so many frogs in one place. Katrin was more scared than I and I had to blaze the frog-free path and carry her on occassion. Good thing we didn't slip when I stepped on a frog.

After we crossed, the situation improved somewhat. We didn't kill any more frogs, but we could not find the damn Eagle bar. Every student--and it seemed like we asked each of the 70,000 blokes that lived there didn't know its exact location. We kept passing one homeless guy--like 3 times--and he asked us, "Did you find it yet?" I tried to smartly reply, "uhh...we're going home now." We kept asking people and they kept saying stuff like, "Make a left, then another left, then a right." But that didn't lead anywhere. Make another right, then left then right, said another confident sounding person. But it wasn't to be found. One person did lead us to the REGAL bar. LOL!

Katrin and I were so depressed--we had woken up early--and worked out at 7am--but here we were, after a long day of classes that ended at 6:15pm, after a hearty dinner, after a disgusting walk through the frog pond, after another 30 minutes of circling Cambridge, where we both said, "we'll just walk into the next pub and quench our thirst."

Guess what was the first place we found about 1 hour and 45 minutes later, 1 block away--the Eagle bar! Everyone in our class had moved elsewhere and didn't have their cells--K and I were the only ones there. I wasn't ready to drink--I quit for Lent, but before I could say no, there it was! We thankfully found two seats and plopped down on them.

We quickly downed our drinks--but then the waitress said that last call was at 11pm--15 minutes ago! We couldn't even get water. GRRRRRR! was our reply. But we laughed it off and said--let's find a taxi. I knew where they stood--we passed them like 6 times while looking for the Eagle bar. And the taxi did take only 5 minutes and was only 6 pounds. I paid for the cab and would have kissed the cabbie, but he didn't look like a frog.

Anyone up for tour of Cambridge--we can take either frog-full or frog-free path.

I’m so happy with life right now. Got a good bonus though iut's never enough. Gordon Gekko would be proud. I'm a tiny bit concerned because I feel like I didn't really work THAT hard in 2005. On the other hand, maybe I am actually enjoying myself and having fun at work these days versus when I was younger and stressing out about meeting deadlines, making the spot-on presentation and writing out the perfect memo, etc.

When I was in high school, I was like Alex P. Keaton and I reveled in that role. But now that I have some seasoning--I'm older--I in Wall. Street/Jeopardy speak ask--is greed that good?. Of course not: there is more to life than making the big bucks. Sorry GG, as Bud Fox, called him when they were still tight.

Though I had little guilt going away on vacations to Switzerland by myself, and have to be away from home because of work for long stretches at a time, being away from home has made me appreciate my family more. I do miss them so much. I'd really be a mess if I were alone in this world--I think back to summer 2003, when M was on bedrest. I had a lot of fun that summer but when I was alone that sucked, and made me aware that my aloneness now, in Cambridge England, is, in the grand scheme of things, temporary.

The other day, while commuting home on MetroNorth, I watched someone in a suit take what looked like a police badge out from his wallet. He held it both hands and focused intensely at the badge—then started tearing up. He looked at it for a few minutes. It made me wonder—why was he crying? Was it because he just lost his job? Did he lose someone on 9/11. Was that his father’s or brother’s badge? Did he regret his career choice? I don’t know. But his aloneness seemed permanent--it seemed to hurt.

Hmmm....this is so deep....and I didn't walk to the computer center with this in mind. I came here just to check emails, my favorite websites, to see if the boat I covet is still available, but all those words above just came out.

Maybe I am hitting my stride professionally? Maybe I am also hitting my stride at the home front too? I don't know...but though I'm not home right now, what's to complain about?

Out of the almost 40 ppl in my class, I am the only one from the good old US of A. There are people from 32 countries from each of the major continents.

The people from the Middle East immediately asked me questions about W, Hillary Clinton, 9/11, etc. It's been an education hearing about how their lives--and they are normal people--have been affected by all this. But they don't hate all Americans. They just don't like our politicians.

The guys from Venezuela call me "Gringo." It's quite funny actually. Two are sooo determined to visit Amsterdam as they've not been. And they have bombarded my two colleagues from Rotterdam about the hot spots in Amsterdam. They are willing to pay whatever it takes--and willing to blow off class to go there. They don't want me to go to Iceland this weekend. I was definitely going to go, but it is FREEZING in London now, so I can't imagine that Iceland will be warmer. But my fallback is London with my co-workers and friend from business school--that's not too bad.

My colleague, Sas (not her full name), who works in the Rotterdam office, is the Julie McCoy of our class. She really is. She's lining up evening activities for the entire two weeks. I'm afraid of where we'll end up. I might have to bail on some of their covert activities.

Cambridge is very English. Haha. No surprise--but the streets are tiny cobblestones and just what you see on the internet and travel books. The only thing that sticks out is our dorm room--it was built by Maersk, a Danish shipping company. So guess what this building looks like--like an Ikea catalog (yes I know they are Sweedish, but they have similar styles--light wood, low tables, and lots of windows. It's nice, but just out of place here in the English countryside.

London is just as I remembered-quaint, gray and busy even at 9am.  London is bigger than I remember--I walked from Victoria station to Paddington station with a stop at Buckingham Palace.  That took about 50 minutes.  England seems bigger too-our bus ride to Cambridge took almost 1.5 hours w/o traffic.

ADD: I am a walking Burton snowboard catalog.  All my jackets and luggage is made by them--even my murse.

As soon as we got into Cambridge we started class--on Sunday!  We ended at 6!!!  So sleepy--I was only one who came in on sat night.  Everyone made fun of me because I fell asleep twice in class.  Of course though I was soooo tired, I went out with everyone last night.  So in the last 35 hours I slept about 4 hours. 

But I was able to hit the gym this morning.  That wasn't too hard--my dorm, which is quite nice, is next door to the gym.

Europeans just cannot design bathrooms.  My hotel in Switzerland was tiny--how do those large 6ft tall guys shower?  Do they get on their hands and knees?  Mine in Cambridge isn' better--the shower floor is continuous to the bathroom floor. So when you shower the entire batroom gets wet!  Doi!

Typing was one of the most useful classes I took in high school. So, my oldest son can get ahead, I taught him how to type. This is what he just did as he sat on my lap after I just came home from work:

I lllllllllloveeee appa!

So, he doesn't get the gold star for spelling. Bad spelling is in his genes--thanks to me. But, he definitely gets an A for effort.

I didn’t realize that my wife revealed quite a bit of my sensitive side to the goils during their crepe brunch last Saturday. They probably didn’t know that they used MY Williams and Sonoma crepe pan—though I have to get a new one because my mother in law ruined it by using a metal spatula. Well, I am damn proud that I can make good crepes—good enough to impress Chris K, who graduated from the Culinary Institute of America and now owns a bakery.

I’m proud that I can cook. Actually, I can’t really cook veggies—but I can whip up the main course and desserts without incident. I don’t need to measure ingredients--though that always causes variations in my dishes, and am pretty good at recreating tasty dishes without the recipes that I’ve just eaten in nice restaurants or other’s homes. I’m the one who picked our oven BTW. M was ready to settle for a middle of the road oven, but I wanted all the bells and whistles.

I love grocery shopping and am much more efficient than M. I can zip in and out in no time, unless I am getting ready to cook but don’t know what I want to cook. A lot of times when I am in the mood to cook, I just go to the grocery store and get what is fresh and available. Then figure out how to cook it and complement it with side dishes and desserts.

I’m proud that I have a sense of decorating. I’m the one who bullied M into painting our house different colors. I didn’t pick all the colours (haha! that’s the sensitive man’s way of spelling it!) but I didn’t want white walls because my parents always had white walls and I personally find that boring. I also picked all the window treatments—We went to Country Curtains and other stores a half-dozen times I was tired of M NOT making a decision. So I just picked them all while she was away on bedrest with the twins. I’m also the interior decorator—aside from the Great Room and dining room, which were joint decisions we made with Ethan Allan.

I can actually sew—thanks to our longtime nanny L, who taught me before I went off to college. It’s a very useful skill. In fact this evening, while watching the NCAA’s, I darned several of my old but favorite items—that blue flannel polo shirt I wore today, tan cords, Burberry raincoat, and Nike ski jacket.

I can iron too! I used to hate being wrinkled, especially in college. Living with Ron did that too me—like I said, he’s really into clothes. But my wrinkle-analness stopped circa 2001, when my boss Hiro always had wrinkled pants—though his golf shirts were almost always immaculate--but that’s because he has a shirt from every course he’s played—ergo 1 million shirts.

Errrrr…BTW, I’m not trying to come out of the closet…aka in a Brokeback Marriage—not that there’s anything wrong with taking up the back-door (unless you’re with a Jewish girl—why do they love that?) hahaha!

Anyhow, I’m emotive. I am! I cry during praise. Tears form when I read CA her book about Lou Gehrig—though that didn’t happen tonight. (See I can be tough!) I cry when my kids do something that really touches me. I cry on the train when I’m thinking about the things going on in my life-both good and bad. I cry when I’m driving and hear a song on my iPod that reminds me of the good old days. But, I don’t cry watching movies however—did you hear about M? She always cries at movies—the funniest one to me was when she cried when the movie theater blew up in Cinema Paradiso.

I admit however that, RJD, my best man made me cry AFTER my wedding. The ceremony just finished and we were getting ready to form the receiving line. He told me while crying--it was an awesome and beautiful ceremony—that in turn, made me cry. I also fought the tears when I first saw M in her dress. But I’m really glad that I didn’t wail like a kid at my wedding AT the altar like my long time friends GMan and B Chin! HAHAHAHAHA! I have both of them on video too! Those always makes me bust out crying from laughing so much.

Byung-Hyun Kim or me?

Why me? I ate yesterday:
- a quarter pounder for lunch (CA wouldn't eat Italian, not even pasta)
- then at kids' bday party, I had some KFC (expected because my cousin's wife owns a few in Westchester) and
- a perfectly grilled hot dog.

So by gametime, Korea vs. Japan in the semi's of the World Baseball Classic, my stomach was a wreck. A, my brother law, had it the worse, since he drove down to Joisey with me. You could smell me over the cig smoke at Forte (or Baden-Baden). James could smell me though he was stuffy from a cold. Thankfully, our table had candles and chopsticks to burn--to aleviate the smell. I was even starting to gross myself out--it was worse than the smells near the refineries on the Joisey Turnpike.

Why BK? He blew up in relief
- immediately serving up a 2 run home run
- plunking the next batter (the pitch wasn't even close)
- throwing a wild pitch moving the runner he just nailed
- allowing a ground rule double, which probably would have been another HR had it not been raining.

It wasn't entirely BK's fault: however, the JK jinx was out in force and as effective as ever. It's a tough call, but only a handful of people will remember my noxious fumes, whereas all of Korea will remember BK's stinker.

We finally finished the tray of manicotti that we got for Nicholas' dedication Friday night. I normally don't eat leftovers. But I ate some for lunch and/or dinner every day this week. It was made exactly as I like it--lots o cheese but not too much tomato sauce. Yum! I wish I had a piece now.

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Has casual day gone too far? I thought I was pushing it yesterday though I was within my Company's guidelines. I wore a Burton hoodie with jeans and Merrills. But on the train home ride home I saw, and I kid you not, some guy who was wearing a sport coat, blue button down shirt and gray sweat pants.

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Has St. Patricks Day gone too far? I was highly amused when our Puerto Rican assistant, notified the NY office via email that she was taking the afternoon off to celebrate. I actually thought she was being cute--and was taking the day off for personal reasons, until she showed up at the office in green garb. Later on, we found out that CH was taking the afternoon off to party. I guess she has to practice for the PR day parade.

I was amused watching the parade go by our office 5th Ave., when it first started up at like 10am. I was less amused when I heard "Danny Boy" for the tenth time by 11am. I was annoyed when we had to fight the crowd to get lunch. Right around the corner from my office is Savannah's steak house. I wouldn't go there for a steak dinner--too many great steakhouses in NYC, but it isn't bad for lunch normally. I was entertained when the waiter handed me the special St. Patty's Day menu--I guess Georgia is the hotbed of Irish. But my Irish short-ribs (yup I ate meat) and mashed was tasty.

I was entertained by all the drunkards on my commute home. Actually they weren't too bad but I did take an early train home--the 5:37pm. The HS kids--well maybe they were in college--were all decked out in green, a few head to toe, and I KNOW they weren't Irish (which is fine). Their faces were covered with green paint, clover stickers and glitter. They were really into it--but look tired.

One guy didn't get off the train in time at Ossining. It's good that the next stop, Croton, was the last. I remember one time (at band camp) waking up in Poughkeeepsie after having too much fun at Christmas party. There were no trains back--so I had to pay $80 for a cab home.

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I'm not cracking the CFA books this weekend. I'll enjoy watching them get dusty today.

I am guilty of this as the next person but we spend lots of time thinking about howe to save pennies or dollars on things we buy but mere nanoseconds on our investments-the stocks or funds we buy.

What do I mean? We spend hours to cross check prices on ebay, clip coupons, cross town to save 7cents a gallons on gas, jump for joy when we use that Bed Bath and Beyond coupon in the mail (I used mine to get my poker table and drove in a snow storm) etc. But we barely research the hot tip that our co-worker or relative gave us. We don't read the company's website. We don't read the Wall St. Journal. Who reads Money or Worth magazine?  Not me anymore, but I still subscribe to 2 BMW magazines!

Don't buy mutual funds with high expense ratios or loaded fees. You r throwing money away.  (If you don't know what I am talking about--research on web.).

Read before you buy!

Buy when prices are low and high--averaging-in is better than waiting.

Don't chase the hot sector funds. Stick with basics--you won't get rich but you'll keep your shirt

Think about individual stocks. Most rich people have their money in stocks-not funds.

Diversify!

Talk regularly with your spouse about your investments.

Listen to an earnings call of your stock.

Ask questions of your broker or fund company!

Invest now! Don't wait. Don't worry if you lose a bit or you mess up. It's actually fun.

Ignore everything I said and put it all on 20 black or win the lotto.

I am in my CFA class but this is ez stuff- capital budgeting.  Zzzzzzz

I poked around NHF's site and learned that the women r having a financial seminar or retirement seminar of some sort.  Interesting but I worry about men, who in America tend to handle the investments.

Why? I spoke with a dad  who said  he/she has NOT starting saving for kids' (plural!) Kollege yet. Yikes! Since the kid is older-almost in double digits.  Almost too late--probably too late unless scholarship is handy.

For what it is worth, I max out on 401K (have been since I was 22), then max out on IRA (but this by itself is not enough), then in after tax accts--stocks and mutual funds.  Then for kids accts.  Treat investments like an on-going expense--automatic withdrawals baby.  Time is on your side!

I would not prepay student loans if the rate is below 6.5%--that is like free money.  Better to invest and get 9ish%.

But best thing to do is live off one spouse's salary and invest or bank the rest.  We did this for a long time--before we had kids.  Hehe.  And have both spouses make 6 figures minimum--that helps too.   If u r single--just marry someone rich or save 50% of your take home.

This is cool! RUB, which Data, my college buddy and NYC roommate, partially owns, is doing well.

http://www.newyorkmagazine.com/bestofny/food/2006/bbq/index.html

I want to eat there again! Let's go, even if it's on a Friday--the Catholic boy in me still tries to not to eat meat on Fridays during Lent, even though I have for the past two...But I shall repent on Sunday.

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It's official! I'm not taking the CFA exam in June--the deadline was midnight yesterday.

I'm humbled though. Last December, this cocky boy thought he could pull it off. After all, I never had much problems studying, except in high school, college and grad school =p. Plus, my time management skills were totally honed when I worked full time and went to b-school at night. I could study in the crowded subway, work 100+hrs a week, get by on a few hours of sleep, and every now and then play a round of golf (badly). But I've lost the "Force" and am realistic. And I don't want to miss my kids grow up.

I'm not that far behind actually, but I'll be doing so much more travelling and socializing (attending family events, weddings, etc.) in the upcoming months that I know I'll fall behind. So, I get to study every weekend until December. RIIIIGHT.

So...let's go to RUB!

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My co-worker, U, who stayed in Switzerland a few days longer than me, just "ruined" my day. He bumped into Roger Moore again and finally got a picture with him. I can't post the pix on my blog at work--but check back again tonight--I'll post it.

If I wasn't such a conscientious husband and stayed there just a few days longer, I could have had a picture with James Bond too. To make matters worse, he's wearing, and flaunting a cool ski vest he got a few years ago that is no longer made, from the Schwendi, my favorite hangout there.

Sigh. Now I totally need to go to RUB.

We're so NOT busy at work this week. So, we turned everything upside down or backwards on the desk of P, who's travelling today.

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I'm afraid of what my coworkers are going to do to my desk while I'm in London for two weeks. I'm going to install a desk-cam. haha!

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M is depressed. She found her first gray hair. Isn't it amazing that after 9+ years of being married to moi that they aren't all gray?

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Ugh...I have to finish my income taxes. I can't believe we've paid $xxx,xxx to the government last year. That's a decent house in almost every other state or almost a small condo in Met NY/NJ area. (though that's sad to say in and of itself).

I've been thinking about RJD, my college roommate, a lot since I saw him last Sunday. I'm so lucky that he is in my life, even as limited as it is these days.

I used to get so angry and exasperated at RJD while at BC, because he studied even less than I did. I remember doing his homework, especially when math was involved, going to HIS classes to ensure his attendance, and typing out his papers. Plus, he was such a slob with his laundry, aka “the monster.” The monster would pile up in a corner for weeks until it took up two corners. However, that turned out to be great preparation for my wife, who is also a well known slob.

I have disappointed him many times though he would never reveal my shortcomings and mistakes. But RJD's never ever disappointed me nor abandoned me like some other allegedly close friends have. NEVER. He's always been there for me, and I know without a doubt that he will be there for me again when required. He was always there, even when I probably hurt him and/or wasn’t a good friend to him. His friendship was and remains totally unconditional.

He can read me like a book, and knows when I'm lying or stuggling. Fortunately, his phone is ready to answer my calls and his Mac is on to take in my emails--no matter how busy his life is. His ears are listening to my problems. His arms are open to hug and comfort me. His feet are poised to kick me in the ASH when I need it.

I totally repsect the guy because he is one of the few people I know of in our generation, who is doing something he loves--acting. He's naturally had the ups and downs in his career, and has done what so many other NYC actors/actresses in the making have done--waiting tables, catering, temping, working odd hours, etc. But he's stuck to it—just like he stuck to our friendship, though we were often times in different cities or countries.

It's quite funny how our friendship developed. His parents met my parents in the BC bookstore during freshman week. Strange as it may sound, unlike some other Asian races, Filipinos don't necessarily feel the need to hang out with only our kind, or other Asians. So when our parents introduced us, we were lukewarm (him more so than me), though it turned out that our dorm rooms were next to each other. Our parents summer houses were within eyesight of each other--but we never met down at the Joisey shore all those years.

But we bonded within weeks, and RJD was there when I learned that my high school girlfriend of two years was dating someone at her college. We sang Billy Joel songs on the piano. We wrote and performed songs that won us 2nd place in the freshman year talent show (titled 'Go BC' set to the Beatles 'Let it Be.'). We shopped for clothes at Filenes Basement--RJD is into clothes and dressing well--and I got caught up in it since I was (and still am) a blue jeans kind of guy.

Once, we ate at McDonalds after eating Thai food since we had limited funds and were still hungry. We downed Uno's pizza, and had the crust drowned in extra butter, as they used to serve it. We were always up for road trips, especially when he had to drive his Corvette, which he still owns. RJD isn't a big beer drinker. But when he did--he shotgunned it to entertain us. I like beer, but I hated shot-gunning beers. So watching both of us shotgun a beer was hilarious! I’m going to make him do it again next time I see him.

We did some nefarious things in college. We stole stop signs and banners of shows in downtown Boston. Though we had enough money, we “borrowed food from the cafeteria, or go in the line where our friend was the cashier. We printed up fake tickets to dances on my Macintosh because it was a challenge. We blew off our semi-formal dates one time (at band camp) to finish watching Game 6 of the 86 World Series (I can still hear Vince Scully say, "A little roller up along first, behind the bag, it gets through Buckner!").

We blasted music out of our dorm window Friday afternoons to ring in the weekend (and I had a kick-ass stereo). We did illegal drugs (as opposed to legal drugs?) together because our new junior year roommate sold them—then panicked and cried together wondering why the f_ck we tried it. We scammed (not really) our way to Puerto Rico for spring break, though we almost missed the plane because he lost his contact lens in his freaking pile of laundry. We figured out a way to get free long distance though that was short lived.

We chased women no matter where we were—this one time (at band camp) we jammed 4 BU women into his cousin’s Porsche 944, a care that barely holds 2 infants in the back. We tried to cook a turkey for some girls, who ended up fixing our mistakes-we left in the giblets, neck and cooking instructions in the turkey, and undercooked it by two-hours. We played tennis with the women's team though I totally suck. Before we partied, we would put one of our beds in the living room b/c we KNEW we'd both need the privacy to hook up (how cocky is that?). Starting junior year, we befriended freshman girls in chorale since they were on the meal plan and we weren’t.

After college, we didn’t do as many things together, but he was my best man at my wedding. He took up golf so that he could enjoy my wedding extravaganza. We worked on my house for months to make his wedding reception memorable. We spent $40 eating ice cream in one sitting!

As I look back at the great times that RJD and I had together and the other great experiences that I’ve forgotten to blog, I am embarrassed that I let others into my inner-inner circle because some just didn’t really warrant that. That’s harsh, but they didn’t. They folded when the chips were down, and couldn’t back up their big talk. I admit that I’m also pretty demanding as a friend and that drove at least one person away. But RJD’s friendship is certain, like death and taxes.

U, my co-worker is finally returning from Switzerland today after two weeks of vacation! Unheard of in banking--real banks at least--unless you're getting married. To welcome him back, we wrapped up U's desk, chair, computer, and personal belongings in newspaper.

It's hilarious to see his mouse--it's the size of a football. Almost nothing was spared. Pens were wrapped up too. We went through a lot of newspapers to do this. I wish I had my camera to take a picture of his workspace.

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Err...I'm getting sick of all the frauds and phonys around me. Go away. Who needs you.

I'm as big a fan of 80's music as the next person, and yesterday I happened to play and of course belt out at the top of my lungs while the twins were looking at me as if I were from Mars, Whitney Houston's "Greatest Love Of All," and Culture Club's "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me." Later on, out of curiosity I googled the songs to actually read the lyrics. They're both pretty deep. I guess I shouldn't be that surprised--music is supposed to move people, reflect our feelings, moods, etc. But it still surprised me.

I'm going to google Weird Al Yankovick and Milli Vanilli's songs now...haha! Actually, this thought occurred to me, why did Milli Vanilli get so flamed for lip-syncing when Hollywood commonly uses stunt men in its films, or computer generated graphics to make things look as if they're really happening? Isn't there a double standard?

I just tried buying tickets to Yankee games this summer...I can't even get four bleacher seats to the A's on Sat. June 10th! The A's suck more my vacuum cleaner. Just kidding. They’re good—certainly better to have a low paying team that overachieves than a highly paid team that underachieves.

I guess Red Sux tix this season will be out of the question. Man...in 2003, I was able to get NYY vs. BOS tix fairly easily--one time (at band camp) I even got 20 tix to a game in Sept--in the heat of the pennant race. But these tix were harder to get in 2004, though I was able to go to an entire 3 game series vs. the Sox, again in Sept. In 2005, I got to go to a few NYY/Sox games but...looks like NYY-BoSox games this yr more, unless I call M's friend Al, who works for the Boss.

If I didn’t want to study for the CFA and NYC provides you with so many ways to procrastinate. After work, I spent time in Barnes and Nobles. I own their stock, so don’t buy from Amazon. Actually, I love Amazon, but wouldn’t buy its stock—too volatile for my tastes. Today’s selection of childrens books about baseball, which CA loves, was good.
(Spring is here [though I heard it might snow later this week], which means publishers want books that sell. What sells? According to the shelves—that would be baseball, boating, anything spring/summer related. )

I got four illustrated children’s books about baseball. Two regard Jackie Robinson and Shoeless Joe Jackson. One is titled “Girl Wonder,” which is about one girl’s trials to play the game. The last one is about current NY Yankee catcher Jorge Posada’s life. Now, I wouldn’t quite deem him as important a baseball or historical figure as #41, Shoeless Joe, the Iron Horse or Roberto Clemente, but I got the book nonetheless for the benefit of the twins.

For his next book, I think Jorge should write about the time when he felt chaesq’s premonition to hit a home run against the Red Sux, which he did. I think that was also the same game that she thought was 4:05pm that actually started at 1:05pm. Did you ever hear me tell that story? Did you hear that I met Roger Moore in Switzerland?

Hmmm…I shall procrastinate more by trying to figure out when I will take Nicholas to his first baseball game.

Yesterday's baby dedication service for my third child Nicholas, (along w/ J, K, and R) was an unexpectedly emotional but happy day for me. Listening to moving praise songs, hearing E's words about this moment's significance, and being at church with family and friends with made me really reflective and appreciative.

I couldn't hold myself together. Lots of people came up to me and asked me if I had allergies, if I didn't get any sleep last night, if I had pink eye, etc. but there was 100% happy tears streaming from my face throughout the afternoon. After I told them the truth, almost everyone commented that they loved my tie. How funny is that.

I feel sort of bad for chickening out when the microphone came my way to speak about what my church means to me. (It does!) I had actually been thinking about this little “speech” for the entire week. But honestly would have lost it yesterday. Good thing M is a quick-thinker. I have been given another chance though. Stay tuned and get the tissues ready…for me.

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R, my college friend and roommate of 4 years, was hilarious as always. We do not get to hang out together as much as we should—but when we do, it’s like we’ve never been apart—to the dismay of others perhaps. Our better halves always joke that he and I tell the same 6 stories from the "Glory Days” over and over again. We do! There is no shame in that.

After people left last night, he said, "Your Korean (church) friends must think Filipinos are totally whacko. Besides, you, they’ve met Bernie and me.” Hmmm…he’s right, we are whacko.

Dora the Explorer was looking for blueberries this morning on the boob tube and it made the kids want blueberries for breakfast. CA started a tantrum (she's good at it) because I told her we didn't have any, but I was able to appease her with blackberries, strawberries and grapes.

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CA wasn't all _itchy this morning. MJ wanted to wear green socks, and so I put them on him. Then CA found another pair of the same green socks, found me with them in hand, and told me she wanted to wear them too.

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I just ate a great steak yesterday at Delfrisco's in NYC. How can I be craving another right now at 9 in the morning before I've eaten breakfast? BTW, Delfrisco's prefix $30 steak lunch is a bargain--salad with 2 nice slabs of home-cured bacon (better than Peter Lugers!), 8oz filet with mashed potatoes, and a choice of dessert, which itself is $8-12. Dr. L had a choclolate molten cake, which was excellent, while I had a 6 layer butter-cream frosted lemon cake. Sigh.

I'm reading my BC alumni magazine and every time I read the class notes, I go through "ups and downs." Not that I'm trying to “keep up with the Jones,” for I know I've been so blessed by God, but sometimes I do feel like I am underachieving when I read the updates.

This person, who I may or may not know, is the President of such and such corporation. That person was just named to Irish America magazine's 2005 Top 50 Irish Americans on Wall Street (guess I’ll never make that list no matter how much Guinness and soda bread I consume). This person invented GRAVITY and just got a patent. It makes me think that I should have actually attended class! Haha!

Other times, I read about BC'ers living similar lives to me: “So and so,” and his spouse, Mrs. “So and So” are working as this and that and are living in Anytown, USA with their X.5 kids and dog. Blurbs like this comfort me—they make me seem normal, though my kids, Popcorn, and me are anything but. Haha!

But today I just got updated on Tom Brennan, someone I knew (not that well--he was a few years behind). He was killed on 9/11. SH_T! Reading about his foundation at www.tmbmf.org made me simultaneously happy and sad. Do you know what I mean? I hope this comes out right and not to sound callous, but I’m now happy to be underachieving in life.

All these dorks are out driving their convertibles in NYC. Makes me upset. Don't you people have jobs? Don't you know that the air in NYC is not exactly clean?

Can't you at least buy your stupid cars correctly--learn how to drive a manual transmission! You don't spend that much on a car and NOT get the sport package. Put the toneau cover on that Jag please--I don't need to see the metal frame.

AND if you're going take the top down and blast music, play something good please! None of this hip-hop/euro beat shit. Play something from the 80's man!

BTW, I am not jealous! I had a convertible--been there done that! =p)

When I first met Marie at the Schwendi Bar in Switzerland, I didn't think anything of it--I was with my friends on vacation and she was a bartender. But we were the only ones there (four of us)--it was a Sunday afternoon after all, and we were still in the middle of the mountain--20 long minutes from the bottom--even longer with a buzz on. Marie was friendly and willing to partake in my childish video--we wanted random people at the mountain to say "I hate Vermont" a running joke in our office since that's where our co-worker, ER, grew up. She bought us a round of drinks (Appenzellers) too!

We left near dark but bumped into Marie after dinner at another watering hole that was also nearly empty. Being courteous, I returned the favor—buying Marie and my friends a round of shots, which as I found out later, actually caused a minor uproar with CB, Urs’ fiancé. She thought I was flirting with Marie. Marie did ask me if I was single, but little did CB know that I had shown my blackberry full of pix of the wife and kids to Marie. (This is slightly off track, but I personally think it that men and women can be friends, good friends, even if one is married. Hmmmm….I’ll blog about this in the future…)

The night was winding down and I was settling up my account. However, the Gotschna Bar’s credit card machine was broken and I did not have enough Swiss francs. But Marie was kind and trusting enough to lend me the balance, 50 francs. That spoke volumes to me—that a ski town bartender, who makes the minimum wage and nominal tips (the Swiss typically tip 1 franc for the entire bill no matter how much the meal or drinks cost) would potentially “give away” money to me—a stranger from a far away land.

Upon learning that she had the next day off, I invited her to board with us. She accepted and that’s when I really learned about her life. She was actually from Berlin Germany, though she has lived Klosters for a bit. Marie was so happy to escape Berlin—and can’t believe that her friends (now in their mid/late 20’s) still lived and or worked there. She said it’s depressing—no jobs--and there is nothing to do there. I believe her—I’ve talked to my church friend RS at length about Germany—he couldn’t wait to get out of there either.

Marie loved snowboarding, and the ski-town lifestyle, but was getting bored of being a bartender. Her boss at the Schwendi, Michi (Michael), who I also befriended, invited her to return next winter as a bartender. She wanted to start a career in hospitality and didn’t know if another winter at Klosters would really help her. I gave her some hopefully sage advice (among other things, talk to those in the industry, go to grad school or work in a bigger hotel) and told Marie about the situation at my hotel in Klosters, the Wynegg, where Ruth, the owner is seeking to retire. I also told her to enjoy the current winter. I also said she could be our nanny in NY, though we just hired one last night to replace the departing K.

One thing that “bugged” me was that that Marie thought I was a beginner at boarding. It’s probably because every single thing I have says Burton AK (Alaska Rated—their top brand), or poseur, on it. So I brought her up to the top of the Furka lift and offered to ski the back side of the bowl—an expert run with a 45-50 degree pitch—which I can do in my sleep. (You’ll see it when I eventually post the picture…) And of course every time she fell, I teased her if I was boarding too fast—or if we should get more Appenzellers.

I hope things work out for her and not just for next winter. I truly do. She's clever, smart and has a big trusting heart. I think she can move on to bigger and better things. But if she is still there next time I go to Klosters, whenever that will be, I am going to make her board with the twins and hang out with the Capios.

I think I forgot to tell ppl that I went trampolining. It was so much fun though I had to be strapped in like a kid. That was probably a good thing though since it is right next to the base lodge bar and I did it after a few pops. I WANT a trampoline! errr...I mean, it would be good for the kids.

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The Swiss trains are nice except for the toilet. I kid you not--but the facilities are just a hole that goes right into the train tracks. I guess it is some consolation that you're not supposed to go while the train is at rest at a station.

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The Swiss are so structured. We went to the post office and there was NObody there. So when Christine went to mail something she naturally went directly right up to one of the workers behind the counter. The worker then told her, with a straight face pointing to a machine about 10 feet away, "Please take a ticket next time."

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The airport at Zurich blows. The workers have a similar mentality to the postal worker I just described. They have separate ppl issuing tickets (I had to get a paper ticket since I was such a loving husband cutting my vacation short) and boarding passes. No one stop shopping. AND these ppl's stations are at the complete opposite ends of the terminal. At least the chocolate was cheap!

My vacation to Switzerland, sans the wife and kids for 8 days (cut one day short voluntarily I might add), is still causing a minor uproar at work. My female coworkers remain indignant, probably much like the other women that my wife and I know. My male coworkers, especially the married and engaged ones, are still in disbelief and they admit even jealous that I was able to go.

I admit to the entire world that this trip was selfish. It was and it is a selfish act. But at the same time folks, life is too freaking short. If you have the means (besides cash, that would include among other things a great hard-working super-patient wife, a hard working nanny, friends and parents who willingly pitch in) to do something you absolutely love, then….gulp Go! Who knows if I’ll be able to snowboard when I’m 65? So, the time to go is NOW! Plus, the research I did last week will pay off for when I take the family and friends to Switzerland next time. hehe

M thinks my new theme song is Billy Joel’s “My Life.” I have been playing quite a bit since we went to his concert a few weeks ago (I WANT to go again!). Hmmm…my favorite part of the song, which I sing unabashedly but discretely in M’s ear on our morning MetroNorth commute is:

I don't need you to worry for me cause I'm alright
I don't want you to tell me it's time to come home
I don't care what you say anymore, this is my life
Go ahead with your own life, and leave me alone!

Errrr…not to make myself look like even more of a selfish jerk, but this isn’t the first time I’ve gone on a ski/snowboard trip sans the girlfriend or wife. Before I got hitched, I took off to Sugarbush in 1988 (I was “forced” to go on a Friday afternoon one hour after my college girlfriend and I made up after a fight), Squaw Valley in 1990, Steamboat Springs in 1993 (I got sick flying home and M had to take care of me for a week), and Salt Lake City in 1996. After I got anchored down, I went to Whistler in 2003 and of course Switzerland last week.

I’m a ski--actually a boarding--bum at heart, but probably just a bum. If I were Billy Joel, I think I would have written a verse of "My life" like so (though it doesn't rhyme):

They will tell you can't BOARD alone in a strange place
And I'll tell you don't need to board with anyone else,
Ah, but sooner or later you'll board on own trail
Either way it's okay, to wake up with your board.

Keli didn't know who Roger Moore was. That made me feel as old as Sir Roger. Sigh.

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MJ has now has dances for several colors. Besides his famous "purple" dance, he has one for blue, green, red, yellow, and orange. Ask him next time--he just might perform for you.

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I wore my red and white Swiss fleece to work. I am a nerd.

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After M and I went to Stone Barns, her next dinner was a microwaved Hot Pocket. After a week of eating great Swiss food (which IMHO is underrated) on vacation, my first meal at home was a box (and it does come in a box) of Taste of Thai Pad Thai noodles. It was gross--and it cost $4--almost as much as the real thing. Thankfully, the Red Curry flavor I'm eating now is much better. But it still feels like overpriced ramen noodles.

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I can't believe Kirby Puckett died. The dude was only 44.

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I'm almost done w/ my Switzerland video. It makes me want to snowboard again before the winter is over. Anyone down? Marie, are you there?

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M and I are becoming the people we said we'd never be--we're wearing matching shirts--though I guess I shouldn't really be owning a women's church retreat t-shirt.

In my rush to get the cig stank out of my favorite boarding jacket as soon as I walked in the door, I threw it into the wash. The only thing is I washed my passport. So far, the heating lamp on our stove is working...it's drying right. It just looks...sorry.

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Here's me at the top of Parsenn...

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Did I tell people that I saw Roger Moore 3 separate times in one day at Parsenn..at lunch at the Schwendie, on the slopes near the Schwendie (the pix is bad--but we were being coy), my favorite local bar where Maria, my favorite local guide not named Urs, works, and at the Chesa Piano bar, where we actually talked! He patted me on the back too when he retired for the night. Should I wash my Burton long sleeve shirt?

I have had a fews days to laugh off my adventure in the woods when I was stuck upside down strapped in my board.

I made it out safely but broke a lot of rules:

-Went off the marked trails alone in a place I hardly know.
-did it at the end of the day with only a few hrs of light left.
-had no water or provisions (and left my avalanche/survival kit in Ossining b/c I wanted to pack light.

As I lugged my luggage in the tunnel of the train station, I bumped into Bianca, a sweet girl who landed in Klosters as a waitress to "escape Germany" as she said when I first met her earlier this week.  My first impression of Bbianca wasn't favorable--she drank herself silly and didn't make it home--a typical ski town story.  But as the week progessed I realized that this was all part of her growing up, and she was quite witty as she demonstrated to me.

She told me to "come back next year" and when she said those words, I was immediately taken back to last winter when I saw a tear in a friend's eye when we were leaving Whistler. "I don't know if I'll ever come back."  I want to come back to Klosters but I don't know when I will.  I just don't know and that brought a tear to my eye.

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Yesterday, while I was on my last run, I sat down in the snow to soak in the view of the Alps one last time.  But all I could smell was my boarding jacket--it smells like cigarettes after being in Europe for a week.  Ugh.

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I want to watch a James bond movie--with my buddy Roger of course.

Urs has more clothes than me but he stinks!  Save me from the odor!

I want through the trees today and was lost for 45 minutes!  I was upside down in the trees!  But I unhooked my bindings and then swam with my board to get to an opening. 

Everyone was worried but I could see the gondola and + had cell reception.  But I had to walk another 20 minutes uphill to get back.

But I am okay and am alive!  I love life!

c