I don't know what to do with myself on weekends anymore. I know what you are thinking. "How could you complain about being on a tropical island with no work to go to?" The truth of the matter is that it is quite distressing. I do not envy the spouses of my co-workers who have no where other than home to be 7 days a week.
The weather is NOT nice this time of the year. As a matter of fact, it is unreasonably bipolar. I just watched the weather go from merely overcast and drizzly to sheets - hell, that doesn't serve it justice - 5 subject spiral notebooks of rain dropping from the sky. The reefs which reside 100 yards out are no longer visible. I can barely see the pool which is about 50 feet from my door. You risk getting shat on by mother nature if you go golfing; seasick if you go lobster-diving; blown out to Jamaica if you go sailing/kiteboarding.
Saturday night does not exist. The only place that I could liken Hamilton, the island's only downtown area, on a winter Saturday night to is Alcatraz Island (first suggested by my friend, and fellow actuary Josh, who officially left the island January 22, 2010 after being an inhabitant for 3 years). Of the 5 or so establishments I visited last night, the local smoothie shop had the most people... about 8. I walked into a popular bar/grille called Harry's. 3 middle-aged men all evenly spaced 3-4 chairs apart from each other drank alone.
There are no more actuarial exams. You heard me correctly. I don't know how to fill the void. I crave a structured project. Any suggestions?
It looks like there is a break in the clouds. I am going to the gym. Trying to make the most of my last day of being 25.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
Enya
The moon upon the ocean
Is swept around in motion
But without ever knowing
The reason for its flowing
In motion on the ocean
The moon still keeps on
The waves still keep on waving
And I still keep on going
A constant 30 MPH breeze. As the waves collide with the reefs about 100 yards out, they are propelled 10 feet into the air. Biblical.
I am tempted to get my 3M training kite out. I would be shredded to smithereens but the thrill might be worth it. A 15 pound palm fell of the tree right by my front door. I threw it in the ocean.
Is swept around in motion
But without ever knowing
The reason for its flowing
In motion on the ocean
The moon still keeps on
The waves still keep on waving
And I still keep on going
A constant 30 MPH breeze. As the waves collide with the reefs about 100 yards out, they are propelled 10 feet into the air. Biblical.
I am tempted to get my 3M training kite out. I would be shredded to smithereens but the thrill might be worth it. A 15 pound palm fell of the tree right by my front door. I threw it in the ocean.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Negativity
It is amazing how something that started off as a great idea has turned into a chore to be avoided.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Saturday, January 9, 2010
David vs Goliath
It is Saturday and it is wet. While I would love nothing more than to be away from a computer, such a fate is inevitable when the railway trails' terrain is too muddy to run, the precipitation stings too much to ride, and my hand is too blistered to swing a golf club at the driving range.
Having just finished reading "Outliers"
and enjoyed the author, Malcolm Gladwell's "here is a stimulating explanation as to why everything you know about airplane crashes is a common misconception" prose, I decide to Google his name followed by "The New Yorker". I click on How David Beats Goliath. The article aims to be a modern day revision on the "Art of War" exploring historical battles both in military and in sports. The battles of focus in this article are those in which one side was clearly superior to the other upon first glance. The main story follows a 12 year old "silicon valley startup" girls basketball team journey from their seemingly improbable chance of success to state domination. This was accomplished chiefly through the use of the full court press; a technique that the more physically "non-silicon valley startup" imposing teams, who focused on the core skills of shooting and rebounding, were unprepared to contest. The author then walks the reader through a "war enthusiast" fair in which the participants have a fixed budget to design an electronic navy as they see fit. The victorious group - a bunch of computer programmers with no grasp of military history -employed several socially questionable tactics to achieve their lop-sided victory. Among them, having vessels self-destruct after being injured by an enemy attack. The theme of Gladwell's article: "David must attack Goliath where Goliath has his guard down - even if it is against social norms to do so."
Reflecting back to my youth, I can think of a myriad of Disney movies that followed the "David vs Goliath" theme. The first that come to mind is :
1. The Mighty Ducks - An alcoholic lawyer who is caught driving under the influence is given a sentence of community service in the form of coaching an inner city youth hockey team.
Davidian Tactic: "Take the fall, act hurt, get indignant!": Gordon Bombay, the coach, encouraged his physically weaker, inexperienced team to put on a show for the refs to create the illusion that the more dominant team was illegally checking them. In theory the end result would be a visit to the penalty box. In actuality - the inner city parents who "skipped overtime pay" to see their kids purposely fall on their asses reprimand Gordon.
2. The Little Giants - A bunch of physical degenerates who are unable to make the competitive football squad form their own team. Through the inspiration of their equally degenerate coach and his daughter, the most talented player on the entire team, they manage to conquer adversity and win.
Davidian tactic: The players ingest alka seltzer immediately before kickoff to create the image of a rabid animal. The opposing team is reluctant to defend the team out of fear of contracting the rabies virus and the Little Giants have a green light to the end zone.
3. Angels in the Outfield - an optimistic but painfully disillusioned youth whose father puts him up for adoption is convinced that his dad will want him as his son once again if the California Angels win the AL pennant. The boy comes to this false conclusion after he mistakenly takes a sarcastic comment that his father makes at face value.
<==Matthew McConaughey in one of his better acting roles.
Davidian tactic: Up to this point in MLB history, most MLB recruiters had not considered "wing-span" as one of the more meaningful tools for their outfielders to possess. The boy takes the road less travelled by and gets his centerfielder 2 sets of wings. The Angels win the pennant but his dad couldn't care less.
At this point of my blog post, a wave of emptiness washes over me as I struggle to recall a childhood experience in which I came to terms with a Goliath. In order to inject some meaningful real life experience into this post I will live vicariously through my brother's happenstance victory in Mortal Kombat. We h
ad just finished hitting balls in the batting cages of Sportsplex, an all-in-one sports facility in Bellmore, NY. Before going home, it was customary for us to waste a few quarters playing MK. There happened to be a long line that day as the weather was similar as it is today in NY. It was my turn to play the winner, an older acne-scarred goon who was getting his jollies out of playing on little kids' quarters. Through the use of lethal combinations, his Sub Zero character was able to freeze my Scorpion. My brother Matt, who was about 7 at the time, was next. Now keep in mind, up to this point every single player at least attempted to use the "cool combinations". Punching and kicking without spears, lasers, bloodshed was not socially acceptable. Matt, under the influence of what character I do not remember, proceeded to sweep, a 2 button move that took relatively no dexterity, the goon with such frequency that the kid had no time to execute any sort of offensive attack. The whole debacle lasted less than a minute. Matt's opponent didn't even reveal the smallest grain of sportsmanship. He looked down at Matt and said "f***ing cheap, man. Cheap as sh**". He proceeded to his mom's mini-van, his head slumped low, his joystick skills forever humbled.
Having just finished reading "Outliers"
and enjoyed the author, Malcolm Gladwell's "here is a stimulating explanation as to why everything you know about airplane crashes is a common misconception" prose, I decide to Google his name followed by "The New Yorker". I click on How David Beats Goliath. The article aims to be a modern day revision on the "Art of War" exploring historical battles both in military and in sports. The battles of focus in this article are those in which one side was clearly superior to the other upon first glance. The main story follows a 12 year old "silicon valley startup" girls basketball team journey from their seemingly improbable chance of success to state domination. This was accomplished chiefly through the use of the full court press; a technique that the more physically "non-silicon valley startup" imposing teams, who focused on the core skills of shooting and rebounding, were unprepared to contest. The author then walks the reader through a "war enthusiast" fair in which the participants have a fixed budget to design an electronic navy as they see fit. The victorious group - a bunch of computer programmers with no grasp of military history -employed several socially questionable tactics to achieve their lop-sided victory. Among them, having vessels self-destruct after being injured by an enemy attack. The theme of Gladwell's article: "David must attack Goliath where Goliath has his guard down - even if it is against social norms to do so."
Reflecting back to my youth, I can think of a myriad of Disney movies that followed the "David vs Goliath" theme. The first that come to mind is :
1. The Mighty Ducks - An alcoholic lawyer who is caught driving under the influence is given a sentence of community service in the form of coaching an inner city youth hockey team.Davidian Tactic: "Take the fall, act hurt, get indignant!": Gordon Bombay, the coach, encouraged his physically weaker, inexperienced team to put on a show for the refs to create the illusion that the more dominant team was illegally checking them. In theory the end result would be a visit to the penalty box. In actuality - the inner city parents who "skipped overtime pay" to see their kids purposely fall on their asses reprimand Gordon.
2. The Little Giants - A bunch of physical degenerates who are unable to make the competitive football squad form their own team. Through the inspiration of their equally degenerate coach and his daughter, the most talented player on the entire team, they manage to conquer adversity and win.
Davidian tactic: The players ingest alka seltzer immediately before kickoff to create the image of a rabid animal. The opposing team is reluctant to defend the team out of fear of contracting the rabies virus and the Little Giants have a green light to the end zone.
3. Angels in the Outfield - an optimistic but painfully disillusioned youth whose father puts him up for adoption is convinced that his dad will want him as his son once again if the California Angels win the AL pennant. The boy comes to this false conclusion after he mistakenly takes a sarcastic comment that his father makes at face value.<==Matthew McConaughey in one of his better acting roles.
Davidian tactic: Up to this point in MLB history, most MLB recruiters had not considered "wing-span" as one of the more meaningful tools for their outfielders to possess. The boy takes the road less travelled by and gets his centerfielder 2 sets of wings. The Angels win the pennant but his dad couldn't care less.
At this point of my blog post, a wave of emptiness washes over me as I struggle to recall a childhood experience in which I came to terms with a Goliath. In order to inject some meaningful real life experience into this post I will live vicariously through my brother's happenstance victory in Mortal Kombat. We h
ad just finished hitting balls in the batting cages of Sportsplex, an all-in-one sports facility in Bellmore, NY. Before going home, it was customary for us to waste a few quarters playing MK. There happened to be a long line that day as the weather was similar as it is today in NY. It was my turn to play the winner, an older acne-scarred goon who was getting his jollies out of playing on little kids' quarters. Through the use of lethal combinations, his Sub Zero character was able to freeze my Scorpion. My brother Matt, who was about 7 at the time, was next. Now keep in mind, up to this point every single player at least attempted to use the "cool combinations". Punching and kicking without spears, lasers, bloodshed was not socially acceptable. Matt, under the influence of what character I do not remember, proceeded to sweep, a 2 button move that took relatively no dexterity, the goon with such frequency that the kid had no time to execute any sort of offensive attack. The whole debacle lasted less than a minute. Matt's opponent didn't even reveal the smallest grain of sportsmanship. He looked down at Matt and said "f***ing cheap, man. Cheap as sh**". He proceeded to his mom's mini-van, his head slumped low, his joystick skills forever humbled.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Oh! The Places You'll Go: Part 1
As I sit here in my room by the sea, the room is illuminated solely by the turquoise x-mas lights which cascade across the wall adjacent to where I type. At 58 degrees Fahrenheit, the night is too chilly to enjoy outside. Even island paradises have their winters. Instead I watch the moonlight roll off the waves from a distance. Rather than complain about the temperature to my northeastern counterparts who suffer a much worse fate, I direct my energy to something more productive. Consistent with what I said in the very first blog post, this blog transcends physical location. As I reflect upon the life I left behind to come here, Julio Iglesias' Greatest Hits plays on my Windows Media Player. Please hold your thoughts - I do not have a visitor here who I am trying to entertain. The mood I create is for me and what I am about to write about.
As many of you know, I spent half the month of October in Madrid, Spain living with a group of students and taking language classes 5 days a week for 6 hours. This structured program was orchestrated by the Don Quijote language school. http://www.donquijote.org/ But this blog post is not specifically about this experience. Rather what led up to it.
When one thinks of voids there is usually a negative connotation. Inevitable events such as deaths, relationships falling apart, or sport seasons coming to an end are not uncommon culprits. In May 2009 I was left with a seemingly unfillable void in my life. Hold off the Hallmark and tissues for now and let me elaborate. I, Justin Levine, at the tender age of 25 completed the 9th and final actuarial exam. While this would seem like a reason to celebrate (and believe you me, the casual observer would have guessed it was my 21st birthday that Friday night) it was a shock to my system. From that point forward, I would have 2 extra hours a day to live. I had forgotten what it was like to have interests - hobbies that I could cultivate for the sheer joy of learning.
One of the amenities that Swiss Re, being a global company, offered was access to a network of global people. I was fortunate enough to have a cubicle directly next to the Latin American group. These were people who packed their suitcases to start completely over in the wild world of NY reinsurance. I admired the culture in more ways than one. You could catch me grinning with my cubicle neighbor everytime one of the Spanish "mamis" kissed another - one on each cheek. Although I had conjugated verbs ad nauseum in high school, I sadly lacked the confidence to partake in any sort of meaningful conversation with any of the professionals who spoke Spanish. I decided to change that. 
A while back I was introduced to the concept of podcasts. A podcast basically is the audio version of a blog. The podcast owner releases a new audio file intermittently throughout the week or month. I did some research and found a podcast run by a native Spaniard Marina and her expat (English) husband Ben. Their podcasts included 10-20 min discussions between the 2 about a different topic each week. Almost 100% in Spanish. I listened to a different podcast everyday from Monday- Friday for the entire summer. Walking down the streets of White Plains with my iPod, with no other worries in the world, tuned my ear in a way that textbooks simply were unable to. I cannot recommend their podcasts, which are free, enough http://www.notesinspanish.com/. The listening extended beyond the podcasts. Tele-novela became more common than ESPN on my LG.
White Plains is a bilingual city. In order to work any sort of job that deals with communicating with the public, one needs to speak English and Spanish. My confidence grew and I soon found myself ordering cervezas co
n mis companeros espanoles de trabajo as well as other Latin friends outside of work. We would speak solamente en espanol during the entire night. At first I found myself saying "Como se dice? (How does one say?) and "Que quiere decir?" (What does ___ mean?) I was dragged, at first reluctantly, to Salsa nights. As time progressed, I was proud to be the gringo with 2 left feet. My best friends were from Colombia, Mexico and Argentina and spoke with me more in Spanish than English. It was a thrilling experience which I never had before and probably will never have again.Estoy cansado (I am tired) and will stop today's post here. Next post - Don Quijote. Que suenas con los angelitos.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
NYE
Logically, one would expect 1/1/10 to be the most ideal time to write about the events of 12/31/09. However, I decided to reserve that day for the introduction to my blog.
I ended up spending NYE at the Hamilton Princess; a luxury hotel known for its Happy Hours and as a solid venue for cover bands. Lucky 13 covered Coldplay and The Killers. "HE DOESN'T LOOK A THING LIKE JESUSSSSS!" I ended up going with a friend to a house of Azoreans where I was force fed Azorean delicacies which I cannot remember.
For those of you who wish to expand your geographic prowess, the Azores are an archipelago located in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean approximately 1000 miles west of Lisbon, Portugal. The people speak Portuguese, although it is quite different from both mainland and Brazilian Portuguese. Someone likened the contrast between Azorean Portuguese vs. mainland Portuguese to Jamaican English vs British English.
To be consistent with popular media in 2010, I will now switch gears once again because it stimulates me and hopefully you, the reader. This NYE was the 2nd NYE I spent in the time-zone 1 hour to the East of EST. The 1st was when I was in the British Virgin Islands on m senior year sailboat trip in 05-06. Just for fun, let's recap that NYE and just for good measure the 2 preceding it
12/31/2003: N. Massapequa, NY - Corrine's house: Talk about a motley crew. We had all of the corporation from MHS, 75% of 4 James as well as 100 other strangers. If memory serves correct, only 2 of the people I invited got sick in the house. (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!) Who ended up driving us home that night?
12/31/2004: Amityville, NY - Christos's uncle's house: This was an interesting one. I believe we had all of the corporation at the mansion. I can remember Christos's Uncle Phil giving Sid*C and Jomb over $200 to buy a couple of bottles of liquor even though he had no clue who they were.
Eric and/or Sid*C walked in on an older lady stuffing her undergargment with tissues in the bathroom (I'm assuming you guys both weren't going to the bathroom the same time but rather one of you called the attention of the other). A little kid who was Jonathan Katz height told me I looked like elf and then hit me with a nerf arrow in the lower pelvic area.
12/31/2005: Jost Van Dyke, British Virgin Islands - Foxy's: This was the first time being out of EST during NYE. The crew of Lady Ashley Brett, dehydrated and exhausted from a 2 hour hike, cleaned the boat and got reparations ready as "Vanessa Carlton - White Houses" blared via Sanchez Calabro's speakers. Upon reaching the shore by dingy, we were greeted by none other than a drunken dog, a dreadlock roster who offered us to get his mule drunk, and a myriad of other idiots who should not have been operating a watercraft of any kind. J*sty, in his comatose stupor, laid down a $100 bill to buy 3 plates of $30 chicken. Although advertised as "all you could eat", the dreadlock woman threatened to call "the police" after I tried to get seconds. Having effectively spent $90 for 3 drumsticks and rice, J*sty was unable to maintain the focus to eat any of it. The food did not sit with me well and I rang in the New Year in the woods, trying to hide my dirty deed as a finishing church procession walked within 10 feet of me.
I ended up spending NYE at the Hamilton Princess; a luxury hotel known for its Happy Hours and as a solid venue for cover bands. Lucky 13 covered Coldplay and The Killers. "HE DOESN'T LOOK A THING LIKE JESUSSSSS!" I ended up going with a friend to a house of Azoreans where I was force fed Azorean delicacies which I cannot remember.
For those of you who wish to expand your geographic prowess, the Azores are an archipelago located in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean approximately 1000 miles west of Lisbon, Portugal. The people speak Portuguese, although it is quite different from both mainland and Brazilian Portuguese. Someone likened the contrast between Azorean Portuguese vs. mainland Portuguese to Jamaican English vs British English.
To be consistent with popular media in 2010, I will now switch gears once again because it stimulates me and hopefully you, the reader. This NYE was the 2nd NYE I spent in the time-zone 1 hour to the East of EST. The 1st was when I was in the British Virgin Islands on m senior year sailboat trip in 05-06. Just for fun, let's recap that NYE and just for good measure the 2 preceding it
12/31/2003: N. Massapequa, NY - Corrine's house: Talk about a motley crew. We had all of the corporation from MHS, 75% of 4 James as well as 100 other strangers. If memory serves correct, only 2 of the people I invited got sick in the house. (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!) Who ended up driving us home that night?
12/31/2004: Amityville, NY - Christos's uncle's house: This was an interesting one. I believe we had all of the corporation at the mansion. I can remember Christos's Uncle Phil giving Sid*C and Jomb over $200 to buy a couple of bottles of liquor even though he had no clue who they were.
Eric and/or Sid*C walked in on an older lady stuffing her undergargment with tissues in the bathroom (I'm assuming you guys both weren't going to the bathroom the same time but rather one of you called the attention of the other). A little kid who was Jonathan Katz height told me I looked like elf and then hit me with a nerf arrow in the lower pelvic area.
12/31/2005: Jost Van Dyke, British Virgin Islands - Foxy's: This was the first time being out of EST during NYE. The crew of Lady Ashley Brett, dehydrated and exhausted from a 2 hour hike, cleaned the boat and got reparations ready as "Vanessa Carlton - White Houses" blared via Sanchez Calabro's speakers. Upon reaching the shore by dingy, we were greeted by none other than a drunken dog, a dreadlock roster who offered us to get his mule drunk, and a myriad of other idiots who should not have been operating a watercraft of any kind. J*sty, in his comatose stupor, laid down a $100 bill to buy 3 plates of $30 chicken. Although advertised as "all you could eat", the dreadlock woman threatened to call "the police" after I tried to get seconds. Having effectively spent $90 for 3 drumsticks and rice, J*sty was unable to maintain the focus to eat any of it. The food did not sit with me well and I rang in the New Year in the woods, trying to hide my dirty deed as a finishing church procession walked within 10 feet of me.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Welcome
Throughout the 2000's I have thought of blogging as narcissistic expression on the creator's part, another source of unnecessary stimulation for the victim/reader, a free ticket to satan's cellar, etc. Upon reflection, I realized that these pre-conceived notions were a bit harsh - perhaps even a form of procrastination. Two sources of inspiration have pushed me over to the dark side at blogger.com:
1. The date 1/1/10 (its just so clean slatish)
2. An enchanting rock situated in the Atlantic Ocean approximately 700 miles+ from the nearest landmass AKA Bermuda.
Having this blog serves multiple purposes:
1. A diary of sorts (for my own jollies. the intention is to be able to read back upon these entries and mentally travel back in time, note my change in moods, change in attitude, etc. In this sense, this blog will transcend physical location.)
2. A convenient form of communication to others (the blog is a medium which excuses me from having to repeat the same news ad nauseum.)
3. An incentive for me to not be a loser (The blog entries will hopefully confirm that I, the reinsurance actuary from NY, have embraced something other than a lackluster life here!)
4. A means to an end: and that end would be the refinement of my writing abilities. Anything less than 4.5 Amazon.com stars will kill my psyche when I am published.
I intend to keep you, the reader, informed as much as I deem reasonable and appropriate as to what my mind and lifestyle entail.
I am uncertain how often I will update this blog. Part of me craves structure and would settle for no less than a set schedule. The other part of me insists that I postpone my blogging until I am so over-saturated with inspiration that the digital ink leaks from my fingers onto the screen you oh-so eagerly read.
Happy New Year. Shall you all evolve positively this decade.
At this point, I will insert the token quotation of the day.
"A journey of 1000 miles starts with a single step." - Confucius
...And I already got blistas on me feet!
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