If you’re anything like me, when I’m at off-site classes, I am certainly not dressing up for the occasion. Hey, I don’t know any of these people, I don’t work for them or with them, we will likely never see each other again – who am I trying to impress? Um…not so much with the finance types! Out of the 120 or so attendees, at least 80% of the men were in full suits…I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve been around a bunch of men in business suits – as you know, the man’s wardrobe here in GR consists almost entirely of different colors of khaki pants (the rainbow of colors that lie between “desert stone” and “nutmeg.”) paired with short or long-sleeved golf shirts. It was actually kind of cool and I found myself enjoying the care they took with this more formal approach, that indicated a respect they must have for themselves, their work, and those around them. I was kind of digging it.But then, just as I’d settled my black cropped pants-clad behind into the ballroom chair and pressed my knit shirt against its back I took a look at the women! I would say that 95% (the percentage of the total women in attendance minus me) of them were dressed to the NINES! Pencil skirts in muted tones drew the eye down toward what had to be $300 shoes with ice-pick thin spike heels. Their clear polished nails nonchalantly toyed with strands of pearls or thick gold ropes. Tailored blouses were perfectly tucked in over flat stomachs. Smooth, conservative hair styles framed powdered, unblotched skin.
Let’s just say that I was not only the most casually dressed person there (even the wait-staff wore formal uniforms) but I was definitely among the most full-figured. Frump-o-rama in both attire and physique. Boo!!! I hated those women who are not only named Barbara and Lynn and Elizabeth and Carolyn but work out for 3 hours after nibbling on a dressing-free salad…this was definitely not my crowd.
I immediately hated and regretted every item of clothes I brought with me, wondered when I last even cracked open a package of pantyhose (I think it was in 2004 for a wedding), realized I had a hand full of hang-nails and that I could no longer breathe from sucking in my gut so hard. I also took off my name-tag as I didn’t really want anyone to know exactly who I was or where I was from.
I knew I hated numbers…why did I have to go to this seminar and discover even more reasons to hate them?
Oh well. Inner poise…confidence that comes from within…this would be my mantra for the next three days. That, and a refusal to make eye contact.
At least I had Jeff. He found all kinds of great places to explore in the evening and, in total Jeff style, we took subways, busses, hiked, all over town to get there. Among other things we ate “the best cheeseburgers in the world” in Harvard Square, souvlacki on Newbury Street, and Cuban sandwiches in Jamaica Plain. We also did a little shopping, took a tour of the Samuel Adams brewery (I’m not a beer drinker but it was kind of interesting to learn how it’s made), and watched the Cubs baseball game. He also kept me from taking things too seriously (No, you’re not a frump! No, you shouldn’t throw all these clothes away…Yes, finance people DO stink…really).
For some reason we got on the topic of “red eye” in photographs and I told him that I’ve never “red eyed” – that my eyes are just too dark – that it just has never happened. Of course he didn’t believe me and spent the whole trip trying to catch me off guard and get a picture of me with red eyes. Not only did this produce a number of wildly unattractive photos (which isn’t helping the old self-esteem, buddy) but it also meant that I saw a lot of Boston’s sites through the veil of flash-bulb after-effect (thanks, Holquist). And, I’m happy to say – he was never able to do it. He was beyond perplexed – I finally just confessed that I am, in fact, an alien and that finally explained the mystery.
Also, every time we left or returned to the hotel we had to greet/say good-bye to Catie, the hotel dog. She was a beautiful black lab, I have to admit, and sweet as could be. The hotel rescued this service dog that developed cataracts. You can take her for walks…play with her…it was actually very cute. Jeff is such a sucker for a pet.
And we had really good luck coming home. We got bumped onto an earlier flight to Chicago – and bumped into exit row seats (which on United you usually have to pay for but provide leg-room extreme!) and we also got moved to Economy-Plus (the plus is for legroom, baby) seats on the Chicago flight to Grand Rapids. I can’t really complain.
Things I learned at my seminar:
1- where the New York stock exchange is (11 Wall Street)
2-that PR people are “jealous” of IR people (PU-LEEZE! As if…)
3-that NASDAQ is totally virtual, with no trading floor at all
4-what an 8K, 10Q, 10K and proxy are
5-the importance of transparency, disclosure, compliance
6-the meaning of “buy side”, “sell side”, “ask”, “take” and “shorting”
..totally worth it, huh?
And, things I learned about Boston:
1-they love their rain boots. I can honestly say that in all my fall/springs in Michigan I’ve seen maybe two people, total, sporting the rain boot. There, it was literally every other woman! Every time I pointed it out Jeff would say, “But it’s raining!” and I would then have to say, “But it rains in Michigan and no one wears them there!” -- Riveting conversation, eh? Anyhow, I actually think they’re pretty cute and would try to start a fashion trend here in GR except I’m afraid they would be one more thing that would painfully grip my calves in an unattractive way. 
2-their subway system is the oldest in the nation and I am not at all surprised. I felt like I was riding a gutted underground city bus…it lurched and squeaked and moaned and shuddered and bounced from side to side in these super narrow tunnels…I pretty much just had to close my eyes and pray for the best. Although it didn’t help when Jeff added, “and they have the most accidents as well…debris falling from the ceiling, hitting the sides of the tunnel or other trains…” Again, not surprised…and thanks, Jeff.
3-there were just tons and tons of people of Asian descent. I couldn’t really tell if they were Asian or Asian-American - just that there were so many of that ethnicity. I was really surprised – I just hadn’t realized that Boston was such a hub for Asians. Interesting.
And now, I’m back at work and happy to return to routine and, particularly, the most adorable little boy in West Michigan. I love the smell of him, the sound of him, the sight of him, the touch of him…oh, it’s good to be home!
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