monkey trouble, machined desks, making friends

I don't know why but when I found this Instagram post this morning somewhere between 28th and 34th Street on the R train, I nearly died laughing. The caption reads "Capuchins are the most intelligent of all monkeys...Donnatto as you can see here,is actually studying a rock." OMG.

Does anyone remember that movie from the 90s, Monkey Trouble, about the capuchin who was trained as a thief and who was rescued by a girl in the park and taken home, kept secret from her parents, and trained to be a good monkey? Then he had to choose between staying with the little girl or going back to the pocket picking villains that trained him?

It was one of my favorite movies when I was a little child. And now that I'm looking at IMDB, I think Thora Birch, who played the protagonist, Eva, looks a lot like Jennifer Lawrence!

Thora Birch, lead actress in Monkey Trouble
Source: Google Images.

On a more serious note, the direction of this blog is all over the place, but I think that's ok. I think I have been trying to make it into something structured, and narrowly focused when really, the whole appeal of blogging for me was the journaling of everyday things and thoughts. With that, here's a little bit about work and play:

Work: Work is going pretty well so far. I just hit my 10-month mark, and starting to pick up more responsibilities. I've tried to become more open minded about types of investments and not see things in boxes as much.

Over the last couple of months we had construction and some folks got standing desks. I hear it's all the rage in office furniture now. At the rate we're going, this is how I envision every single work station to look like in our office a year from now.

Source: The New Yorker

Bahahahahaha. No, I'm serious. We'll all be strapped to some sort of exercise machinery at our ergonomically-designed desks, working on our vlookups.

Play: My social life, on the other hand, has not been so great. I've found it rather difficult to make and maintain friends. I think that a lot of folks in their mid-20s can probably relate: I'm in a kind of psychological rut where I feel like I should be more involved; that I'm somehow missing out on things. Of course, social media doesn't make it any easier.

Being in a new city is lonely as heck. I never thought I'd feel this way after moving here; after all, I'm living with two of my good friends from Boston, and my family is so very close. But things just didn't turn out how I envisioned.

My roommates are busy with school -- and in a totally different place in terms of life (e.g., they have exams, I have investment committee meetings), priorities (e.g., they might stay up til 3am studying for that licensing exam, I might have to go to bed at 10:30pm so that I can be lucid for a conference call at 9am), and interests (they might be focused on learning theories and practices, I might be focused on calculating IRRs). As a result of that, we haven't been able to keep the same dynamic we had in Boston, when we were all working and all had similar worries and schedules. It makes me sad sometimes, but I think I just need to be flexible and they'll meet me halfway. I reached out to schedule a roomie dinner - It has been months since we've sat down to eat together. I'm really looking forward to it. I love these girls dearly, even though we haven't been able to spend much time together.

My family - well, they are my rock, but they're also busy. I've tried to be helpful when I can but ultimately I think they all have things to focus on. I try to visit often - at least once every three weeks. Sometimes when I go home to visit, it is just me and dad, driving around running errands. Or me and Mom going out to buy produce at the Farm. It's ok, I know they try to fit me in when they can. And at the very least, I'm able to get my laundry done at home without the fear of a random neighbor gratuitously taking my delicates out of the dryer.

As a result, I'm trying my very best to be positive and proactive in reaching out to people to catch up and create friendships when I can. It was so discouraging at first. I e-mailed a bunch of people and very few got back to me. It makes me scared to continue to reach out to people because I feel like I will just be more and more hurt with each e-mail that goes unanswered.

But I have to remind myself of the dividends I've already reaped. My friend Kas who ran track and participated in this political science debate club with me in high school was one person that I emailed out of the blue to hang out. We not only had a blast catching up over coffee, but have hung out several times since and are planning to go to an event together in early May (yay!). And yesterday, I reached out to a girl I met at a networking event a month ago. I feared that she had forgotten me altogether but on the contrary, she invited me over to her new apartment for cookies and tea.

So see, Shel, this totally invalidates your fears. Keep putting yourself out there. It's not easy to make and maintain friends in the city but... look how rewarding it is when you succeed.

"Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing" / the evolution of a childhood bestie

So funny how much memory a random object can bring. I found a beat up copy of this book in my parents' basement, where there is a walk-in closet of all of my childhood nicknacks.

Growing up, my friend Cami and I were inseparable. We met, by the stroke of luck, on the first day of second grade when we were both in Mrs. C's class ... I was terrified of Mrs. C so delighted in having found a kindred spirit.

Of course, with my luck, Cami moved away like two weeks after that.

But then she came back! We were in the same third grade class, and quickly became best friends. We loved Mrs. M. dearly. She let us "publish" books by binding a bunch of papers together with those plastic spirally things that I don't know the name for but they are used on hedge fund pitch books LOL. We wrote and illustrated so many stories during our free time in Mrs. M's class.

Around that time, we also met a boy named Shrimp. I'm pretty sure he had a real name, but for whatever reason, he was called Shrimp. My theory was that Cami actually liked him but because it wasn't cool to like boys then, we had to be mean to him in some way. Calling him by a nickname he hated was one way to do that. Cami, Shrimp and I ruled the playground, daring one another to spin faster and faster on the merry-go-round, zooming down the rolly-slide face first and on our feet. We were a pretty wild crew.

At some point, Cami's family moved closer to us. Giving us even greater reason to spend every single minute together. Our families became one -- our moms traded recipes, carpooled us to and from school, alternated as den of destruction for our sleepovers. This book was a Christmas present from Cami's family, and it was most likely given in conjunction with a pack of Lipsmackers (Yes, it is not hard to know what a third grade girl would love for presents).

Great timing, too, because like Peter in Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, I was dealing with the travails of a toddler sibling at the time... I hope that fictional Peter, like me, has learned to overcome the craziness of a little brother and cherishes him now!

We were again in the same class for fourth grade and fifth grade, with Miss D. and Mrs. D., respectively, chasing us down with detention slips. I truly did feel like a Fourth Grade Nothing, as I struggled with certain subjects, failed to win the approval of the "cool girls", etc. But through it all, I shared my tears and laughter with Cami - so it was all good. Let me tell you, Mrs. M. must have been a saint to be able to handle us.

It's so strange to be able to remember our elementary school antics now, decades later, and it still seems so fresh in mind. Cami and I lost touch as our families moved, but recently, we reconnected on social media. I have loved catching up through the lens of Facebook to see all that she's accomplished in these past years. In many ways, Cami is still the same Cami. And I'm probably still the same me, a bigger, taller, (more restrained?) version of that Fourth Grade Nothing. Anyway, Cami, if you are reading this, I loved that we shared so much of our childhood, and I would love so much to see you again in person.

Frappe's at 'Bucks and Face-Blindness (Midtown Misadventure #1)

I've been a klutz for most of my life, and the one true advantage of that is... My threshold for embarrassment is pretty darn high. Which is good because I ultimately end up doing embarrassing things every single day.

Today I did so at Starbucks.

My colleague/friend Ellen and I had agreed to meet at a particular Starbucks this morning. We had met twice in one day about a month ago when we both coincidentally had the same conference followed by the same networking event, and due to the similarity of our firms' investment mandates, we wanted to make a regular event of meeting up to discuss investments and market color.

When I got to the coffee shop we agreed on, I gave myself premature *pats* on the back for showing up ahead of time and actually going to the correct Sbux, unlike yesterday... but that's a whole other midtown misadventure that deserves its own telling.

With 5 minutes until our scheduled meeting time and the line moving up at a promising pace, I decided to get my coffee first. Since this was serious-ish business, I passed on the decadent drinks and got a no-nonsense grande Pike. *Pats again, for grown-up coffee selection* But in all honesty I can only down that with a truckload of sugar and a boatload of milk, so I proceeded to the coffee modification stand.

As I was ripping open my third Domino sugar packet, I thought I spotted Ellen's blunt bob across the way, in the order line, so I threw my right arm into the air like a windmill and grinned as big as I could. "Hey Ellen!" She saw me but must not have heard, and appeared to stare right through me. That's funny, I thought, I may have only met her once, but she definitely did not strike me as the shy type.

Being the act-first think-later genius that I am, I decided that the best course of action would be to mosey on over and force recognition. So that is exactly what I did.

"Hi!" I beamed, willing myself to look as recognizable as possible. She just looked at me suspiciously, clutching her wallet more tightly.

"How are you?" I insisted, noticing for the first time that she had gotten highlights since our last meeting. She shifted from one foot to the other, her eyes now darting around, not meeting mine, and clearly looking for an egress. No words, just noticeable discomfort.

"Busy day, huh?" I enunciated, motioning to the ebb and flow of Starbucksers around us, thinking maybe she couldn't hear me even though at this point I was standing a foot and a half away from her. Hm, did Ellen get new glasses, I wondered now that I as close enough to notice the details, because I could've sworn, the last time I saw her, she had frameless --

"Um, hi Shel" I heard from directly behind me.... prompting me to turn around to face... the actual Ellen. In that moment, I wanted nothing less than to disappear immediately and forever.

Frozen, I let Ellen (the real one) lead me away from the poor New York City doppelganger who probably didn't anticipate being talked at by some random crazy stranger at 10am when she stepped out for her mid-morning coffee. I stammered an apology though by now the entire shop had witnessed my embarrassing blunder of face blindness.

...Those city-slick baristas were definitely judging me behind their silly green aprons.

Green Canteen Day #12

Well, y'all. I've reached Day #12 of my 100-day green smoothie challenge and still going strong. I'm still hitting the gym 3-4 days a week and doing about 4 miles of cardio, but I've also incorporated some strength training. Sunday and yesterday were "leg days" and Monday and today are "upper body" days. Tuesday was my rest day.

I am just beginning to realize how little I know about fitness. Here are just three major myths to which I had once subscribed:

(1) It is enough to just "get movin'." Previously, I thought that as long as I fit in some cardio during the day, it is enough to feel good and look good. But it is more complex than that. According to fitness gurus that I follow, building skeletal muscle is just important as building cardiovascular health and endurance. Muscles help you burn more calories just by existing as well as look more toned.

(2) I'm a girl so I must be a pear. Have y'all heard of the body type analogy: apples vs. pears? Pears gain weight in their hip whereas apples gain weight in their stomach area. I had assumed that as a proud carrier of two x chromosomes, I must be in the pear variety, but nope, I'm an apple. Yes, after vainly studying my physique in the mirror, I've determined that I indeed gain a lot of my bulk in my stomach area. This is really, really bad, because this is the type of fat (visceral) that causes heart problems. The other type (subcutaneous) which is more associated with weight gain in the hips, is less dangerous. Well, that stinks.

(3) If I lift, I'll get beefy. Another misconception I had my whole entire life was that if I start picking up those dumbbells, I'm going to end up looking like Arnold Schwarzenegger of the seventies. My vain butt didn't want that. But I realize now that first, I probably cannot even physically become that bulky. And second, I was imagining all my muscle on top of my current self. In actuality, as I build muscle it will probably be at the same level as where my fat currently is. So it won't really increase my width of existence... if that makes any sense at all. Anyway, I am assured that I won't become the female terminator, because several fitness gurus I follow lift much, much heavier weights than I do and they don't look "bulky."

So there you have it guys, I'm a lifter now :)

What's this, you ask? Vanilla whey protein! There is a Vitamin Shoppe right by my apartment and I decided to go in one day. Saw a lot of different protein powders, from beef-based to soy, in isolate and concentrate forms.

The two guys working there were very helpful. It was completely empty so they were both speaking at me, almost trailing me as I wandered lost-child-like through the labyrinth of a store, explaining the different types of powders and supplements, helping me reach anything taller than 5 feet (LOL). They didn't bother telling me their names so in my head, I named the first guy 'Ceps and the second guy Pec's. The first guy looked like real life version of Pop-Eye after a can of spinach, and the second guy looked like if you ran into his chest, you could end up with a concussion.

Anyway, I couldn't believe the sheer variety of proteins out there. I decided to go with a whey blend (meaning it has isolates and concentrates).

The protein actually tastes really good and adds a hint of vanilla flavoring to my green smoothies. Gives it a more "whole" taste. I started incorporating it into my smoothies yesterday. I dropped 1 scoopful (16g of protein) into a 28 ounce spinach/yogurt based green smoothie and it was very delicious.

The other three packets are just samples that the guys at the Vitamin Shoppe gave me. I have no idea what they are but I am assuming they are also to be mixed into liquids and consumed like normal? In any event, I will report back once I've tried them.

OK, I'm off to the gym now!

Green Canteen Day #5

The start of my 100-Day Green-Smoothie Challenge

I recently (and by recently, I mean 5 days ago) became a hypocrite. I’d never espoused "fad" dietary changes, and in particular, I’d regarded juicing and smoothies as “real dumb.” I also didn't think gluten-sensitivity was a thing. But this is what happened to make me take back my words and decide to go on a 100 day green-smoothie journey:

The last time I wrote in this blog (holy heck, has it really been 7 months?!), I was starting a new job in New York City. All was great. That is, until in the span of these past few months, I gained six pant-sizes, my midsection burgeoning uncontrollably and spilling out of waistband after waistband. Dang.

I bought new jeans, sadly passing over the size 4 shelf that I once frequented to reach for the 8’s and then 10’s (keep in mind that I’m a person of limited stature so while size 10 sounds OK for a normy, it equates a pretty sizeable strain on my smaller frame), and followed up the sad mall excursion with a trip to Haagen Dazs (nothing quite cheers me up the way dulce de leche drizzled in fudge does). I bought new slacks (no more cute colors like plum and kelly green - gotta stick to slimming black and navy), and comforted myself with a sloppy, sloppy all-the-way double cheeseburger and a heaping bag o’ fries from Five Guys. I made those purchases with decided defeat and sullen stoicism. I should just accept my new reality, right?

But then I hit rock bottom, when I found myself perusing the maternity yoga pant section. Nope. Final straw. Camel’s back - broken.

I decided I needed to find myself. I’m sure I still existed somewhere …. underneath all this carbohydrate-enabled tonnage.

I went to visit my parents, and took a good look at myself in a full-length mirror for the first time in nearly half a year (no room for such a contraption in my NYC apartment). The trouble really was my tummy. It jutted out stubbornly, making things like pants very uncomfortable. Even when I woke up in the morning, my stomach was far from flat; it looked like I’d just eaten… for two.

I weighed myself for the first time in forever (again, no room for such a thing in NYC, so, thanks parents for letting me panic at the scale in your home). But get this: I weighed the exact same as I did when I was a size four: 130 pounds… What?!

I re-calibrated and tried again. Day after day. Still 130 pounds. Totally weird.

This prompted me to look deep into the interwebs (a dangerous place, I know)... And this is what I’ve found so far:

(1)I probably lost some muscle mass. Fat weighs less than muscle so maybe it balanced out.
(2)The apparent width-gain may not be fat at all - it might just be bloating/water retention from eating badly.

Here’s the thing, guys. I had already stricken wine and soda from my consumption list in January as 2015 Resolutions (prompted by my propensity for dental caries), and it has done nothing for me. I had begun a 6 week candy-hiatus for Lent, and surprise surprise, no effect. I had taken on 4-5 miles on the treadmill for 3-4 sessions a week (prompted by a need to decompress after work - 8 straight hours of staring at a spreadsheet, mentally willing your offset formula to work is enough to drive anyone batty). Nothing.

In other words….It’s not as simple as calories in vs. calories out.

My trusty Google nutrition degree tells me that it might be digestion. Maybe eating crap piled on crap for all these years really caught on to me; it might also be specific… Maybe I’m not eating enough roughage. Maybe I’m sensitive to lactose (which I consume every day in coffee garnish form and in babybel cheese wheel form) or to gluten (which I consume every day in all conceivable forms).

Ironically enough, I used to internally scoff a little when people who don’t have Celiac disease tell me, “I’m gluten free.” Of course you are, the mean little voice in my head would say, And what are some other ways you’re a special, special little snowflake? Especially because I really did know someone who had Celiac disease and I felt angry that others were almost making light of it by saying, oh yes I can’t do gluten either, boo-hoo. It felt disrespectful toward people with Celiac disease.

Anyway. This is why I never blog anymore. I intend to write like three sentences about why I am making a lifestyle change. But end up with the Magna Carta. Saved in Drafts. Forever.

Essentially, I’m going to try have a green smoothie every single day for 100 days (roughage for the win). I started on Sunday, and this is my 5th day. Concurrently, I am going to try to cut lactose for awhile, and then cut gluten for awhile (but not at the same time, because "controlled experiment") to see if it alleviates my literal growing pains.

I’ll update as much as I can. Wish me luck, guys!