Gold Trade 12/28 (Mon) & An Exasperated Doc

GC 2min

Just 1 GC trade today since the last time I posted my PnL.

Basis of entry is a little complicated, but the main reason is MACD divergence (overlayed on main chart - I have difficulty focusing on 2 regions at the same time, so everything at ONE place).

Targeted exit was pivot at 11o3 (thick solid red line on chart), or on MACD bullish divergence, whichever's hit first.

I exited on extreme MACD reading instead, at 1106, leaving USD 300 on the table.

But it's ok. Holding for 10 hours for something I wanted, tightening my stop from 5 ticks above HOD to 2 ticks above breakeven while GC struggled to stay above 1110 - it's an experience I'll pay 300 bucks for, ONCE.

Again, if I see something in the instruments I want to trade tmrw til thurs, I'll trade. Otherwise, I'll listen to the good doc and stay in bed after taking my medication. I was at his yesterday (finally, after 4 days of asthma plus flu attack...Doc was gone during xmas...), and when we were almost done, I asked Doc a few innocent questions.

Me: Doc, do I have to stop taking chilli padi (really, really tiny chilli that's REALLY REALLY spicy) and fried food (I'm a steam food, soupy food, white meat, nearly vegetarian person, but for the past week I've been taking food that my system must find really repulsive)?

Doc: Well, if you're not used to it, then don't take it at all coz it's going to upset your stomach and your throat. If you want your system to get used to it, keep taking it after you get better (what a wise doc).

Me: So, Doc, do I have to stop smoking for the time being?

Doc: I THOUGHT YOU QUIT???!!

Me: ..........

Doc put me on Zyban twice and it worked the 2nd time. That was more than 7 years ago. I stayed clean for 5.5, or was it 6 years....anyway, I pointed my finger at D and said it was his fault.

I'M ONLY HUMAN.

I have 4 pills (for asthma, allergy, flu, and throat infection) plus a really foul smelling cough syrup to take 4 times everyday. I took 3 in the 10 hours I was in trade. What a record.

THANK YOU!!!

(Update: As I'm going to be using my gmail account to compile the list of emails that I will be sending invites to, would appreciate it if you can send your email to gmail account if you're writing me (my yahoo mailbox is jammed by the way, for reasons I've yet to find out). For those that have written, I've already included you on the list. Again, thanks for your emails! Those on my blogroll - you're on the list by default (unless you don't have an email on your profile page, in which case, I would appreciate it very much if you'd send me an email for me to capture your email address), but please let me know if you do not wish to be included.)

My heartfelt thanks to ALL who have emailed me. I've spent the bulk of the day dealing with some frustrating personal issues, and haven't noticed the mails that came in. To the "quiet crowd" that has written me long emails - I am beyond touched, and I wish I could reply to each and every one of you in the next few days. I should be able to, given that I'm going to be trading very light for the rest of this month.

To my fellow countrymen (and women) - I have to say, I am very surprised to be hearing from so many of you. If only you had spoken before the really nasty ones came in....I really appreciate your notes, and to those who have asked specific questions, I will definitely reply in the next 72 hours.

My Favorite Things

1) Me, ME, ME!!!
May 2009



2) My lilac dress (could be the only short dress I own now...)
May 2009


3) My workstation
May 2009


5) (we don't like 4) KEISH (and Smart Spider, since he's in the picture)
May 2009


6) AL BROOKS (the book...)
May 19 2009

7) AL...BERTO!!!

It began like this (Al curling up beside me as I was reading):


Then it became like this:


It's not like there isn't enough space!!! (Really crumpled part's where I usually lie on my tummy reading)


Al's usual spot (yes, Al is King of the house):


Al's other usual spot (right beneath where I work...yes, Al follows me everywhere... surprisingly loving for a snobbish British...Sorry, UF!!! LOL!):

8) D!!!!!!!

(Wallpaper on my handphone - tickles me every time I look at it)

And check this out: Denarii's BUNGEE JUMP video (and all I could do to spice up my life is take pictures around the house...how delightful!)

Yes, Denarii's one of my favorite things too! :-)

Hilbert Space

In life, I've had to make very tough choices far too many times.

I began young enough.

As a minor, I made an adult decision to marry the man who was the father of my unborn child.

I remember asking my very regimental Dad to take a walk with me in the garden to have a chat. It was only the first week that I was back for summer holiday, and my Dad was thrilled to have me home. Right by our pool, I looked him in the eye, told him I was pregnant, and that I had decided to be a wife and a mother - all in a single sentence.

Then I waited to be slapped or thrown into the pool. I fully expected him to disown me, and if he did, I wouldn't have blamed him. I was really a handful.

But my Dad loved me way more than I gave him credit for. He flew to HK with my mum to meet the in-laws and to plan for the wedding.

He was truly happy for me.

Little did he know that being a wife and a mother were the last things I wanted.

Unlike most girls, I grew up wanting what men want: career, power, fast cars, and a private jet. I've never had fantasies of a fairy tale wedding; I didn't believe in love in the first place. I believed in good clean fun, and nil baggage.

But I chose to keep the child, and I must be married so he could grow up in a normal home.

Little did I know that the man I married was not ready to be a father. Didn't matter that he was years older than me.

I had a difficult pregnancy. Then I fell really ill and refused to eat and drink for a week. I remember laying in bed all ready to quit life. My then husband never came home once. I had no idea where he went, and I never asked. His mother, a really wonderful lady I still call "mum" today, nursed me.

When it got to the point that I wasn't responding at all, she called my Dad, who flew in immediately and carried me home.

By the time that summer was over, the baby was gone, and I had returned to Edmonton to start my first year at the U of A. My then husband was also back, and we moved into the house that my Dad had bought.

A year later, I was pregnant again.

Yes, I was very fertile.

Damn those no-good condoms!

This time, my Dad sent my mother over to make sure that I would have a smooth pregnancy.

Little did he know that my mother didn't love me half as much as he did.

She hated having to leave her friends, her social life, her parties, for me, and she had no qualms about letting me know how much of a burden I had been to her. She would complain all day long, and pick on people and things, including the snow.

Fortunately, for me, she quickly made new friends (my mother's department), and started going out. That was when I finally got the peace and quiet I so desperately needed.

Shortly before the baby was due to arrive, something happened that gave her a reason to go home.

Gulf war happened.

She was afraid that she was going to be separated from my Dad and Seabloke and Pilot for God knows how many years should Canada get involved.

I know, I was equally baffled, and amused - actually, more amused than baffled.

But I was glad she found herself a good excuse to go home. I wanted her to go home ,and leave me alone. I was already having a very tough time - preparing for exams and being so sick most of the time (my doctor was so worried about my condition I frequently had to go in for check ups and blood tests) - so I really could use some PEACE.

I had a difficult time at delivery. They couldn't get the baby out, and I refused to scream or use epidural. I was totally drenched in my own persperation and losing a lot of fluid and my blood pressure got dangerously low.

My girl decided to pop her tiny head out only 24 hours later. I was so glad my ordeal would soon be over I used every remaining ounce of strength I had to give one last mighty push, and out she flew, like a missile, right into the palms of an alert nurse, just a second before she hit the concrete floor, (the doctor, totally expecting the usual time it takes for the entire body to emerge, had turned to grab something).

It was 1991, and I was barely 19.

A week later, I went ahead to sit for my exams, against the advice of many, coz I wasn't healing properly.

3 weeks later, my then mother-in-law came to take my girl back to her Dad's home in HK. I didn't object to it, coz I knew her life would be 1000 times better there. They had a big bungalow house, and many adults to watch over her, and cousins to play with.

Another 3 weeks later, I moved out of the place that I was living with my then husband.

We never discussed our breakup, and remained friends.

A few months later, he flew back home for good.

I started my new life, with someone I really liked this time.

A year later, Dad died.

I went crazy, and drove the man I loved crazy too, and he did something so horrible to me I decided to walk out.

He told me that I had nothing, and that I needed him.

I said I would survive.

At the same time, my mother demanded that I drop out of school and head home, coz she had no intention to send me money. She figured that since it was illegal for me to work, I would have no choice but to go home to be her puppet.

I told her I would graduate, and I would find my way, and that I didn't need her blessing.

That was the last time we spoke. The next time we talked again would be 5 years later.

She never once asked how I pulled through.

Until recently, she would insist that she's been a terrific mother. I would never argue with her on that. I always know when to save my breath.

When I returned home, she suggested that I "retrieve" my child from my in-laws.

I was appalled.

She saw how my sister-in-law gave up her own marriage to raise my child as her own - I couldn't believe that she actually thought by virtue of my having gone through the labour pain and the trouble of carrying my child for 9 months that I had earned the right to take her back. She actually thought it was good timing since my child was old enough to not be too much of a burden to me.

It was at that precise moment that I made up my mind to initiate divorce proceeding - I had sat on it for 6 years coz I didn't want to lose my child. It was when I looked into my own mother's eyes that I realized where those selfish genes came from. There and then I made up my mind to let go.

Sea would always comment on how deceiving my very soft exterior is. She's right. Many had experienced first hand how hard my heart can be. It has to be, coz I understand and fully accept the reality of life - it's impossible to make everyone happy.

When in doubt as to who to make happy, I check my heart.

It never lies, and doesn't rationalize. He's way bigger and a gazillion times wiser than me, and I would never fight Him.

One Of Those Days I Nearly Died

It happened in the winter of 1994, shortly after Christmas, at 10pm Edmonton time. The streets of the heart of the city was surprisingly quiet for a weekend. It's probably the cold that's keeping everyone in. Alberta's winter can get quite brutal. Stay out for 5mins and you wouldn't be able to even smile - I call it the "frozen nerve syndrome".

Cozy in my 22nd floor studio apartment, I was about to get into bed while waiting for D to drop by. I had left my door unlocked, as usual (it was Edmonton 15 years ago, only people who suffer from paranoia lock their doors), and had something interesting to read: lecture notes from engineering class....

I was setting my alarm clock when I heard the door opening. Expecting the visitor to be D, I hadn't gotten out of bed to receive him. 10 seconds later, I had this really bad feeling that the visitor wasn't D. I got up, went to the other end of my bed where I could see the door, and froze when I saw a really tall white man standing right there in the middle of the hallway, WITH HIS SHOES ON MY FREAKING CLEAN CARPET!! And I remember saying to myself, "Damn it! Not the time to worry about your carpet!!!".

I waited for him to make his demand - no screams, no asking rhetorical what-do-you-want or who-are-you or what-the-hell-are-you-doing-in-my-apartment-stranger questions. He assessed me for a while before asking me for my wallet. Great, he really wanted my empty wallet (I was penniless then, owed the school a year's tuition fees, and was living one day at a time without knowing how I'd get by the following day - all thanks to my mother who refused to give me a single cent of the entire proceeds of a house I sold in Edmonton, which I handed over to her when she cried - I can't stand a woman crying - come to think of it, I was kind of glad that my Dad's assets in Singapore were all frozen coz had it not been, my life would have turned out totally different and I would have had become one of those spoilt brats who wastes her life away).

I handed over my wallet and waited for him to curse and swear and hurl his threats. He had covered his face with his jacket the whole time, and when he needed to open my wallet, he told me to get down on the floor and keep my head down. I did as I was told. Not going to piss off someone with a gun. Then I heard him taking something out of my wallet. Strange, I thought, that he actually took SOMETHING out. When he was done, he dropped my wallet next to me, and SAID SORRY. Then he walked away from me, and made his way towards the door. I heard the door closed after him. My instinct was to get up immediately to lock the door. I actually THOUGHT I did it. It was all in my mind. Physically, I was still on my knees. I had spent the precious seconds PROCESSING what had just happened!

In that few seconds that I could have acted to change the outcome of what happened that day, I had used it to PONDER on the coulda-woulda-shoulda.

And something inside me told me that he was going to come back in. He did. And the surprising thing was, I wasn't surprised at all. It was almost as if I knew at the very moment of hesitation, that I would be sorry for hesitating!

He told me that a 100 bucks was not enough for him. I told him he could help himself to whatever he wanted. I was raised to never show fear. I think I outperformed that day in that aspect. But the fact that I did didn't save me. The intruder wanted to see some fear. He started kicking and throwing things around. I let him, and stood by the side, just WATCHING and THINKING. Then he found my jewelery box, opened it, and asked what they were. I took the contents out of the box and put them in his hands. He backed off immediately, and nearly dropped them. I told him those were real, and he could sell them for money. Totally pissed him off. I was really sensing that the guy was getting nervous coz I wasn't NORMAL. He was losing it coz he didn't feel that he was terrorizing me. He needed to feel in control, and I wasn't giving him the satisfaction.

He said he would kill me. I believed him. He was apparently high on drugs, and if he didn't get what he wanted, he would definitely snap sooner or later. I brought him to the kitchen - well, as a Chinese, I surely must have hidden some valuables in my rice cooker or something - coz I needed my plates to knock him out. Then I noticed his height. Forget it, he was too tall, I hadn't a chance. And he kept saying he was going to kill me. Just great, I thought, I had just turned 21, and I was going to die. Then I cursed myself for spending precious time thinking useless thoughts. Focus! I told myself. Get out of this place coz this guy isn't here to rob. He's here for adrenaline. He's a cat playing with a toy and when he gets sick of it he's just going to kill it.

I sobbed to buy time. It immediately disarmed him a little. He stopped yelling, and became POLITE again.

I opened the cabinet on top of my fridge, went under it, and from the other side, I opened the doors of the fridge right under the cabinet. Then I dashed for my keys which he had thrown right in the middle of the living room (which was why I stood and watch at first when he was throwing things around - I was paying attention to my KEYS). When I ran pass the kitchen to get to my main door, I saw him knocking his head on my cabinet door and his balls on the fridge door. Clumsy son-of-a-bitch. I wondered if he was both high on alcohol and drugs, - he had an unsteady stance, and I noticed that when I was WATCHING.

I got out, and ran down the stairs that were right next to my apartment. I could have turned right and knocked on the doors of all my neighbours, but instinct told me that that would be stupid coz the guy would get a clear shot the moment he got out of my apartment Since he was clumsy, I had a much better chance by taking the stairs.

I got out after a few storeys, and ran straight along the hallway, knocking on every door and screaming that someone with a gun was after me. I hadn't the time to wait for anyone to open their door, and when finally got one that answered immediately (probably heard my screams for a while already), and that bastard had to appear at the door of the stairway that I had just gotten out from. Shit, clear shot again! I ran again, down the stairs (there were 2 staircases, one at each end of each level), and I could hear him coming after me. When I finally got down to level 6, which was the entrance to the parking lot, I opened the door to get out.

IT WAS LOCKED!!

I continued down the stairs, went to level 5.

Door was locked too!

Went to level 4.

LOCKED!!

DAMN!!!

All the doors were locked and I was at the ground level. No more stairs to run down. Only a door that was probably locked too.

I turned it, and it opened!

I dashed out, ran down the parking lot, which had 3 basements, and I kept running til I got to the guard house. The 2 guards on duty wanted to bring me to the lobby, and I refused. I took their phone and called the police. A small crowd had gathered, and a few ladies wanted to bring me to the lobby. I went with them, and saw that a much bigger crowd had gathered there. I had apparently woken many good folks with my screams. One of the guards put a towel over me. I realized later why. I was in my very light viscose nightgown - seablue - one of my favorite colors - and it was TRANSLUCENT, and I had worn NOTHING inside. And I was trembling.

Then I saw my captor STROLLING pass the entrance to the lobby to take a look at me. That sick SOB! I whispered to a friend from high school (we lived in the same building, and he was one of those who had gathered at the lobby) that I saw the guy. He asked what he looked like. I gave him a description, but wasn't sure it was a good idea for him to go after him. He did, together with another friend. They were big guys.

Anyway, they got him after chasing him down a few blocks. Pinned him to the ground, recovered my belongings (thank goodness, coz without those evidences, I could easily have accused an innocent man that was put on the stand - coz I definitely had no recollection of the face just ONE day after the incident).

The next day, I was on the 2nd page of the local newspaper - without my pictures of course coz I had refused an interview. It read "Female Tennant TERRORIZED By Intruder". The intruder was out on PAROLE- his FIRST day out!

Recently, whenever I froze when my trade went against me, I would think about that moment that I hadn't gotten out of my shock fast enough to lock the door. I have to bring back the memory of that REGRET that I had felt, so that I would do something DIFFERENT this time - the right thing.

But I have never forgotten the 100 bucks that D had slipped quietly into my wallet the night before I was mugged. He said I was so fierce then he hadn't dared to offer me money, so he could only put it in my wallet quietly. That 100 bucks had saved our relationship over and over. Coz whenever I was reminded of the fact that this was a man who appeared at the most desperate point of my life, didn't look down on me, didn't desert me, did everything he could to make me feel protected and dignified, I would do everything in my ability, and against my very MANLY nature, to be the kind of woman that he needs.

I'm still NOT that woman, but I'm on my way there.

ES Trade 3/18 - Closed Position & Break

Hammer on Hourly. First hammer didn't quite make it. Second hammer totally worked.


On 3min: very bullish MA cross over at precisely the point where ES bounced up from a Fib 50 retracement.

NYSE Tick starting to show institutions buying. A lot of buying.


I don't care if this is another bull trap. I'm done with traps and all. I'm out:

Citi has gone up throughout the session while the others in the industry and the broader market were going down, and I told D that something's not right. Less than an hour later, XLF has gone up too, leading the S&P up as well. I should have gotten out at 762 when I told D that Citi alone could reverse the industry's trend. Not following my instinct has ALWAYS killed me.

I'm not a swing trader, so I'm going to stop analysing. Enough is enough.

Will not be trading for the rest of the week. It's time that I take a real break from the market to clear the clutter in my head and on my charts. Will go through all my past trades and really study those from my better days. There's got to be something that I did differently then. The only thing I know for sure right now, is that back then, my charts were a lot simpler, and so was my thinking process. I knew a lot less which was actually much better. You can't over analyze when you lack the expertise. You can't rationalize coz you have no basis to do so. You trade what the chart tells you, and you don't guess where it's going next coz you haven't a clue. What you can do is create scenarios - you always have only 3 to work with anyway (up, down, sideways) - and if what you think is going to happen doesn't happen, that's a good enough reason to not be in trade.

I can certainly use a break to organize D's messy wardrobe (culprits: Al & Keish), REALLY start looking for a full-time job, attend all the castings and frustrating photo shoots, shop til I drop dead (takes only 30 minutes - it's my least favorite activity and D's favorite....bizzare.....), visit Seabloke's new home (she's been luring me with her pool....a sign that she's in serious denial...I HATE WATER, SEA!!! It's a pity, coz as children, we were trained for a decade by the best coaches and finally by a national coach, and I actually swam like a fish. But the chlorine...and the other stuff in a pool....YIKES!!), and do something about my cats' very foul smelling breath.

I'm happy.

Me, ME, ME!!!!!

2008 Oct 25




D's flown.

It's "ME" DAY!!!

WOO HOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, that's me wanting to take a pic of what Gary did to me - my hair, to be precise - this morning (to send to D)....never knew I can use my mirror this way....

I LOVE my new hair color!

Wonder if D's mum will too...

She's not going to like my nicotine addiction - that I'm sure.

Am I really going to have to go cold turkey for 3 days??

Damn!!!

1996 with Celeste

2005 - the year that I had too much chocolate....

1996

2006

The year that I was happy