e*toile

Today I finally became a British citizen! Went to Camden council to affirm my allegiance to the Queen and pledge my loyalty to the UK. I was presented with my certificate by the Mayor of the Borough of Camden. - I didn’t even know that boroughs had mayors! He was dressed in a fancy, old-fashioned fur-trimmed red cape with heavy gold chains along the front. I could barely suppress a smile, especially since he was slightly podgy, with a crew-cut hairstyle and somewhat hesitant speech - totally at odds with his grandiose costume and fancy title!

I also went to a Kings of Leon concert in Hyde Park. My first ‘real’ concert (my only other experience was with Pink Martini at the Round House) and an open-air one too! (Tick! for another thing on my Thngs-to-do-before-I-die list) I wasn’t really familiar with the songs so couldn’t really be swept up in the moment as much as other fans. Although I still tried to push myself as much to the front of the stage as possible, like a true groupie - and I managed to come as close as 5-6 rows from the stage at one point! Most of the time though, I was people-watching and being alternately amused and aghast by concert-humanity.

To top up an excellent day, my X-pole got delivered today! I had started pole-dancing classes (although I’m still Level 1, and an under-performing student at that!) and had bought a pole to do conditioning and practice the spins at home. I started pole to strengthen my arms for climbing, but it’s funny how it has taken on a life of its own!

There’s nothing like Spring to lift the spirits and bring a spring into my step! (sorry for the cheap pun)

Even at the Firm, things are looking up. After a long winter of privation (redundancies and a spate of voluntary departures, tombstone cutbacks. no Christmas and Summer Party last year, patchy bonuses), we finally have a small budget for team events, are going to have a Summer Party. I know it seems silly to outsiders hung up about bankers’ bonuses and the like. But these small things count and are good for morale - everyone, especially the secretaries, who missed out on bonus, will at least have a fun night of free booze, which will help a tiny towards alleviating the sting of lost bonuses and getting wrongly caught-up in the mass hysteria of banker-bashing. I have been disappointed with my recent unsuccessful attempt to find a new job, but this new development has (somewhat irrationally) cheered me up and mitigated my condition. It just somehow feels like the Firm is finally getting more confident and getting back on its feet, after a year of losses and sacrifice.

And I’m going to submit my naturalisation application on Monday. I’ve gotten my first of two referee to vouch for my “good character”, and soon, fingers crossed, I’ll be a fish-and-chip -scarfing, beer-guzzling Brit! After almost 10 years of living in my adopted city and country, almost 6 years of working, over-paying taxes and under-consuming services, and 1.5 years of enduring vitriolic abuse at my industry, my commitment is going to be recognised.

Other little things are cheering me up too: holidays I’ve just taken (Turkey, Syria and Lebanon), our wooden flooring has been installed and furniture-shopping is underway, spending time with girl friends doing fun things (indoor rock climbing, climbing Snowdonia), upcoming plans (Trinity May Ball, a photography course), more holidays planned (Canada/Malaysia/Singapore, Australia). After a long quiet winter of inertia and desperate anxiety (company, finances, work, quitting work), it seems like little green shoots of fun and activities are sprouting, and the invisible weight on my shoulders has been lightened with the longer days and warmer weather.

I hope this lasts.

This week, as I sat and stared during my team’s weekly Monday morning meeting, I was mentally knocking my head against a hard wall, over and over again, in boredom and frustration.

I thought to myself: I can’t deal with this. I want to slit my wrists. Or at least poke needles into the tips of fingers.

But that’s not realistic. I am afraid of pain and blood after all.

Hmmm… maybe I should get anti-depressants, I thought. A couple of pills here and there. And I could get through the day, without feeling suicidal. With a smile even.

That really scared me. The fact that I was being so realistic and reasonable - the fact that I was measuring my problem and mentally taking a calculated step to solve it: “I have a problem, and this is a feasible and socially acceptable to way to mitigate my pain.”

Imagine, *taking pills* to get through the work day. To live life and just breathe.

That the first step down the slippery slope of giving up. The dangerous first step of self-medicating to cope with life.

What next - drugs?!

Because I’m a procrastinator, and didn’t previously have access to a personal writing space from work (ie. a place I can draft my entries during my “down-time” at work, which my firm will not be able to access / spy on), I have put off doing my annual retrospection until now.

However, now I have discovered a lovely online notepad from Helicoid – the Helipad!, and am working on this entry from work – whoo hoo! (albeit with a nasty headache)

So, 2009…

In terms of my 2009 resolutions, I have gloriously failed to achieve any of them.

Nonetheless, I have achieved (or accidentally stumbled across) some key milestones in life:
1) shagged (finally)
2) bought a little piece of England with the Boy

Part of me feels frustrated/ disappointed that I’ve done so few “wow” things or progressed so few of my “things to do before I die” compared to previous years – it seems, as years go by, that my life gets more boring, more static, and I do fewer exciting things – a result of becoming more conventional, fitting more into the norms, being weighed down by responsibilities. My only consolation, at least for 2009, is that, although I have done fewer exciting things, the things that I have done, are really big milestones in the context of one’s life (although not as big as having a baby!)

Other highlights of the year include:
- adopting Newton and Byron, my two lovely but at times extremely exasperating feline furballs
- visiting Madagascar! – finally doing some proper travelling in Africa, albeit Africa-for-beginners, and progressing my goal of “visiting every country in the world before I die” (for that matter, we can add Japan to the list of countries visited)
- eating A LOT of very good food – although I didn’t hit 100 Michelin stars, I’ve done a good three-quarters or more of that number

In summary, I would say 2009 was a mixed bag. Low on number of goals achieved, high on life milestones achieved. Let’s hope 2010 will be a more productive year.

x

My team at work is especially “yellow-friendly”. Not only are there 3 chinese girls in a team of only c.20 bankers, but, of the remaining bankers, an italian senior is going out with a canadian chinese girl, a french moroccan junior is dating a chinese girl, an ex-senior (german) is married to a korean wife, and an ex-junior (french) had dated two chinese girls recently. We had christmas drinks at my boss’ house tonight, and I couldn’t help but be amused at how many chinese girls there would have been if all the 3 chinese bankers (one was ill) and the other halves had turned up. One could be entirely forgiven for being alarmist about “le peril jaune” of ‘evil slitty-eyed yellow people’ taking over and subverting Western culture, especially given I’m going out with a french boy and the second chinese banker is marrried to a german (the third chinese banker is single).

Although, having said that my team is yellow-friendly, in reality, my team is just extremely diverse and almost incidentally supportive of all sorts of “minorities”. We have an exceptionally high proportion of girls in our team vs. investment banking average; we are racially diverse (although we were even more so in the past); and there are many mixed couples in our team:
- danish/french + greek/irish
- french + british indian (and married against the wish of her parents who boycotted the wedding!!)
- german/iranian + english
- english + french
- chinese + german
- myself + french
- italian + canadian chinese
- french moroccan + chinese

That’s one thing I like about London - this exuberant mixing of cultures, nationalities and races. The openness and willingness to share, interact, intermarry, love, hate and mingle in joyous abandon. Those who come here tend to be sufficiently adventurous and open. London, as I mentioned before, is a port for dreamers, a gateway of dreams. - Well, at least it was before this silly super tax that is rapidly making us all reconsider our future plans.

Nonetheless, I sometimes almost wonder if there is too much mixing… isn’t it a shame that there will be no one who is culturally “pure” anymore. There’s something to be said for being able to say, unequivocally: “I am Chinese [or whatever]“, without feeling confused and conflicted, as many mixed-culture kids are, especially since life is confusing enough as it is. But, funnily enough, growing up, I remember thinking, even as a child, how boring it was that I was “pure Chinese”, that there was nothing much more to say besides both my grandparents were from China - no mixed parentage or deeper heritage to understand or explain. I guess that this was written, that I would end up going out with someone from a different culture, because I’ve always wanted to do and be, something a little bit different (although, as mentioned, inter-cultural relationships now seem to be the norm), and because I always thought that inter-culture relationships and marriages would contribute towards ending racism/prejudices/religious differences, and hence, a baby first step towards world peace. Yes, very “Miss Congeniality”, I know. But wanting some simple and naive, isn’t always a bad thing. In my book, it is called idealism or optimism.

My junior MM sent his official “Moving on” email last Thursday, 26 November, but he had told me of his imminent departure the week before. In fact, he has asked me to be his reference, so his new employer, a VC fund, had called me up.

This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. It finally jolted me into making a decision to leave, to actively start looking for a job. I contacted some head hunters that MM recommended, and the Boy sent out emails on my behalf. So now I’m reworking my CV, drafting answers to potential headhunter/ interviewer questions, printing out reams of research pieces to read up on the various sectors and subsectors that are relevant, reading news and articles about VCs, New Media, cloud computing and general tech stuff. My first choice is VC, second choice is PE and anywhere else. So I have to be different things to different people, a lot of bases to cover. It keeps me busy and occupied, while there is a very short lull in my work, which is great for me. To hedge my bets, I have also signed up for the CFA I exam in June, with an eye on doing asset management post Africa, if my search for a job in VC/ PE before July next year fails. I was also looking into signing up for a French DELF B1 exam as well next year.

The Boy commented: Wow, it’s crazy how much crap you start doing/ looking into when you’re bored!

That’s kind of true.

But I’ve also channelled some of my energies into the Company. Researched into the merits of serif vs. sans serif fonts. Started drafting a very brief engagement letter for our website developer. Looked into the application process for trademarks - UK, EU, US, and the Madrid Agreement/Protocol - it’s crazy how long it takes! We need to start the process soon. - I’ve always been the one in the couple who is more focussed on legalese and contractual protections/ obligations. The Boy always as his head buried in the nuts and bolts of the Company, the engine mechanics, which is all as well. But someone has to be paranoid about everything else. And that role fits me quite well, given my general paranoia and desire to be prepared for every eventuality. Next steps on the Company front will be “Terms & Conditions” and “Privacy Statements” and the like. Not very exciting I know, but the product completion date is approaching, hopefully, and we can launch the Alpha testing phase soon! The Company helps keep my spirits up and provides a dim ray of light while I’m stuck in the ink-blank tunnel of my job.

I’m pushing ahead on all fronts, and hopefully I will get somewhere.

Doubt can be very draining. Like dilute acide which slowly corrodes away the surface and creates spider-web-thin cracks throughout, destabilising the whole.

Mole-hills become mountains. And when weighing the cost/ benefits between: bearing it, or not? Doubt often tips the balance into: “Aahh f*ck it”

I just don’t want to deal with it. All the low level, low intensity stress of watching what I do in my own space, during my down-time. The background droning of complaints and resentment. The seemingly inconsequential compromises of daily domestic routine.

It’s getting harder and harder for me to stay at my job. I am so bored out of my skull. I find the work yawningly-boring, repetitive, in endless cycles of meaningless urgency and panic. I am getting fed-up of what work, my seniors and colleagues expect of me, which is part and parcel of the job: to drop everything in my own personal life and to be at the beck and call of every client request, every pitch, every presentation that comes along. Each cancelled weekend, each missed birthday, each compromised plan is justified by my seniors as necessary: “this is the most important Board presentation of the year”, “this is the most important meeting of the process”, “this is the biggest RFP of the year and the biggest IPO of next year (in our sector)”. I’m bored of it. I’m bored of having my own life de-prioritised, of making sacrifices because of one imaginary “most important” so and so work deadline after another, which almost invariably turn out to be wasted or necessary.

Cases in point:
1) I was hyper stressed out during my birthday weekend because my VP expected me to work all weekend for “the most important Board presentation of the year” (for that specific client). The specific transaction never happened. Was killed. And instead, a TopCo deal was in the works by other banks which would have cut us out completely, and killed our deal. As it happens, the TopCo deal didn’t happen either. So some other poor f*cks in some other banks have probably busted their balls for nothing too.

2) The Boy and I were supposed to leave on Saturday afternoon to collect Byron from out of town. But because I had to help finalise “the most important presentation of the process”, we had to leave town late, drive at 110 mph or more to rush to town. Stop in the emergency lane of the highway to take a call from my boss. Gobble down an 8-course 1-Michelin star meal (that we’d already paid for) at a rate of one-course-every-five-minutes. And rush back the next day. The result: the client did not want to fund the transaction at the necessary price - they choked at the equity cheque. A bid was never made.

3) “The biggest IPO of next year” pitch - having to work weekends, take multi-hour calls on weekends which, among other things, consist of my MD reiterating everything on his markup, and changing his mind, vacillating over every other point, since at least 4 weekends before the deadline. Firstly, this is not my project. Another girl, who is from the company’s country of origin, is working on a side project and has been swamped, so I am stepping in. This is ultimately her project and will revert to her if we win. Secondly, there are multiple decision-makers in the awarding of this mandate. And my colleague who knows some of the decision-making parties has been told that this segment of decision-makers will back another set of banks to win. Given I have been and will continue working exclusively on this until the deadline, why is it imperative that we spend time on this every weekend?

My frustration has been growing. I’m tired of not being able to properly plan a simple weekend, always living with the constant stress and worry that my plans will have to be cancelled, or that I have to rush back to work at any point. This frustration has reached such a boiling point that I just don’t want to work. I get depressed whenever I am given *any* work. I feel like knocking my head against the wall at yet another piece of analysis, yet another model to build, yet another presentation to prepare. The same shit, ad nauseum, ad infinitum. I know this is clearly not a healthy work attitude to have, and that’s why I know that really, this is time to say “enough is enough”. It is time to quit, and move on. I am gritting my teeth and barely holding on for dear life: until my bonus (whatever it may be), until my naturalisation.

5 years in one place, one team, is surely an age. Especially in banking. By the time I leave next year, I will have done almost 6 years. I have nothing to prove anymore - to myself, to anyone. If I want, I know I can go on to make VP, D, possibly/probably MD. But do I want to spend the next 7 years being stressed and depressed, living a living hell, carving up my ever-diminishing soul into little pieces and selling them, piece by piece? I have done my time. I need out. I also need the strength to carry on, for just another 9 months or so, if all goes well.

Maybe after having been unemployed for a while, I will be happy to return to the hellish, but fairly lucrative hell-hole that banking is. I know I have been very fortunate to have been in constant employment since my bank-breaking graduation. And maybe, to an extent, I have taken it for granted. But almost everyone I know has had either gardening leave from changing jobs, or being unemployed, or a sabbatical from a firm-sanctioned working-hour-reduction programme, or has taken a break to do an MBA, finish a thesis, further their studies. I am just plain and simple burnt out. My sanity is slowly fraying.

9 more months. 9 more months… I am, I am, I am.

I watched “Rigoletto”, an opera, today. It was my second opera, after a very tragic (for me) and incomprehensible outing to “Legend of Shakuntala” a couple of years back in Italy. “Rigoletto” was a much better experience than “Shakuntala” because: 1) I was watching it with someone rather than alone, 2) I actually understood it because the libretto was translated into English and they had subtitles to supplement our listening. I can’t discuss the comparative merits of the plots of both operas, since I didn’t really get much of the Shakuntala plot - but from Rigoletto’s plot, I do think that it a shame that Verdi was born in the wrong place and time - he totally missed his calling as the writer/director/composer of Korean / Japanese melodramas. (see “Rigoletto” plot: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rigoletto#Synopsis) Nonetheless, it was an interesting experience.

On coming home, I found that my kittens (I suspect Byron, the younger kitten) had totally acted up and pooped and pee-ed in the wrong place, in their little “home compound” that we created for them, instead of the litter tray. So I ended up clearing the mess, washing and disinfecting their trays, bathing them. It is at times like this that I wonder if the whole kitten-adopting was just a tragic mistake. I don’t really mind doing housework in small doses, but I would hate to have a problem cat that is not toilet trained and that requires me (more, the Boy, since he is at home most of the time) to run after him. But I suppose having the kittens is not entirely without benefits. Among other things, I think it’s really good as a trial of our capacities to accept a dependent newcomer into our lives (read: kids). And the answer that I am getting right now, loud and clear, is: NO.

But I will expound more about my thoughts on kittens/kids some other time when I’m not tired and stressed about going into work the next day (yes, on a Sunday - bring back my recession please!)

I haven’t written for a long, long time. It’s been 4-5 since my last post, probably the longest blog-sabbatical I’ve had.

So, why haven’t I written for so long, and what have I been doing?

1) May
- why I didn’t write: busy, lacked inspiration, too many uncertainties, the Boy and I were living in the same room and he was using my laptop so I didn’t really have personal time and space to write
- what I was doing: the Boy and I were flat-hunting to buy, found a little basement flat, put an offer in, started paperwork and was waiting for clearance, work was busy

2) June
- why I didn’t write: ditto as per May, with a greater focus on the “busy” at work bit (see below “what I was doing”)
- what I was doing: work was busy on “my” silly client; working all hours like a dog for a sale process that was proclaimed by all as going to be “deal of year in the sector”, e.g. pulling together a management presentation in one week, my holidays to Denmark/Sweden got cancelled

3) July
- why I didn’t write: ditto as per June, with more uncertainties than usual, and work was still busy
- what I was doing: the vendor of our beloved flat raised his price on the very day we were about to sign the contract, so there was a rush to find alternatives - either find a short-dated place to rent, or find another place to buy in less than a month (we were about to be kicked out of our rented rooms as we had terminated our lease). so there was a lot of drama, discussions, viewing of flats, discussing options. Finally, despite not liking the vendor’s last minute price-hike, we decided to match the offer, even though I had wanted to reject it, just on principle. - The other options just made much worse sense, from a financial perspective: house prices were rising, mortgage rates were rising, no other flat offered as a good a deal as this one did (decent size, with a garden, share of freehold, W2, £547 per sq ft). I had my birthday - the Boy organised a very lovely long birthday weekend, but I ended up being very stressed because of work, with “the most important Board presentation of the year” coinciding with my birthday weekend. - Isn’t every presentation that will f*ck your plans / life up always “the most important” one of the year?

4) August
- why I didn’t write: lacked internet access
- what I was doing: I was leaving work at 5pm almost every day for the month of August - sweet life indeed! So, not busy at work at all. We moved into our little Flat of Dreams, my little piece of England. We had only one table and one chair for most of the month. Slept on an inflatable bed that we borrowed from a friend for about 3 weeks. My back and neck ached so much, I was hurting all the time, even when walking around. - Never again! I was really inspired to write about my experiences, thoughts and feelings, having so little to do at work. But the lack of internet access at home was killing my inspiration and pissing me off. I spent many hours calling BT, Be to set up my landline, chase the set up of my account, investigating why my broadband didn’t work etc. Very very frustrating. We adopted a little moggie kitten. Went all the way to Plumstead / Woolwich Arsenal (that’s in SE18!!!) to collect our little black and white ball of fur. We had planned to call him Vasco de Gama after the Portuguese explorer, but ended up calling him Newton after Isaac because he looked so quiet and (we thought, or hoped) intellectual. I also started taking driving lessons - I found it very stressful actually.

5) September
- why I didn’t write: work started getting busy, holiday
- what I was doing: I started getting some work and was leaving work between 7-9pm. Still early by historical standards, but rather later than I had gotten used to during the summer siesta. Went for a 2 week holiday in Malaysia/ Singapore. One of my JC friends got married and I was bridesmaid! HURRAH!!!!! This may be the first and last time I get to be bridesmaid. The wedding and the holiday was fun. I was needing a holiday quite badly by September, my last one having been in April.

Which brings me to today.

Work has been getting busy again. Last weekend, I stayed until 5am on a Saturday morning to finish a presentation that was “the most important presentation of the process” (another project) that was scheduled on the Sunday (yes, WTF right?), then had to work until late on Saturday too. The Boy and I went all the way down to Sleaford in Lincolnshire to adopt another kitten. A blue Abyssinian kitten this time, whom we’ve named Byron. We’re raising a family of feline intellectuals and wanted a poet after having a scientist. It’s been several stressful days since the second adoption. Newton’s jealousy, the kittens fighting etc. But hopefully things are calming down.

We still have not much furniture - a table, a chair, a mattress, bed-frame, a broken dressing table. The kittens have more furniture than we do! We’re trying to find suppliers and fitters for new double-glazed windors/doors so we can install them before winter, and we want to replace our carpets with hardwood flooring before we get more furniture. Then we’ll need to fix the plumbing, install new heaters… so the flat is an ongoing work-in-progress.

Today, my iMac arrived! I had bought it in August before I went on holiday, and due to various problems, it had only finally gotten delivered today. I am ecstatic! Now I have my own personal computer, work, play and dream space. The Boy had taken over the use of my macbook to work on the Company, so I usually left my macbook to him so he could progress on work. It’s nice to have my own space again. And given how much memory this new baby has, I have created separate access accounts for the Boy and myself, and accounts for Guests too.

Anyway, so that’s all the update for now. I’ll write again soon.

Good night, world. x