CFA Level 1 Exam Experience. December 6th 2014. Chicago.

Saturday, Dec 6 2014 was quite sunny, though cold. It was not depressing and gloomy. This helped keep spirits up.

The exam was held at the Donald E. Stephenson convention center near Chicago's O'Hare. The other event at the convention center was a kennel show. Therefore, the CFA exam candidates passed several folks dressed as dog mascots in the walkway from the hotel to the convention center, with super size, furry, fanged heads, and large paws. It was unsettling. I later learnt via a TV news report that they are called 'furries'.

I was early, @ 720am. Reporting time was 8am. The exam's 1st session was between 9am and 12pm.

The candidates were people of all sizes, colors, shapes, styles...(some of them peculiar styles)...in various zen moments. Some of them were still cramming their notes. I have no idea why. It felt like walking into a hallowed electric exam experience @ Monster's University. I of course was Don Carlton, the old guy. In addition to feeling outdated, I also had a tornado in my stomach.

Then I noticed older candidates, with greying and white hair, in various stages of tension. One seemed apathetic, one was trying to coax epiphanies from the air around him, and this one was the best of all - he lay himself out on the floor immobile while the rest of us trudged towards the exam hall.

There were also perfectly gorgeous specimens who were apparently blessed with both good looks and brains, AND who were taking the CFA level 1. Well, imagine this - a young and muscly Ben Affleck in blue jeans and a red checked shirt who seemed as though he could tackle a tough exam, plough a field, fix a car engine, and fight a bull, with ease. There were several of these specimens who appeared for the CFA level 1. It was baffling and unfair.

We waited in a corridor before they allowed us to proceed towards the doors. I was right in front, facing the fire. At that point, I felt like Aragorn before the Battle of Pelennor Fields. I was praying that the dead (my mother, to be specific) would help me win this battle. I admit that I was hoping for miracles, that the answers would be whispered into my ears.

We were seated at collapsible wooden topped tables, 2 per table. There must've been at least 500 in the hall. Of which 150-200 would pass, as per the historical statistics. We were only allowed to bring in HB2 pencils, an eraser, pencil sharpener, a calculator and some batteries, for emergencies. No pouches allowed. Money and credit cards could be carried on one's person as the exam proctors could not guarantee the safety of one's personal belongings in the storage area outside. The CFA institute forbids guarantees. I remembered an Econ line - "The only certainties in life are death and taxes" ;).

I was seated next to a Chinese junior at UI-Urbana-Champaign who would NOT stop chattering. She was extremely bright but still, a child at only 21. I thought of how I could be her mom, at 39. It was depressing. However, her sunny nature cheered me up and gave me hope. She did not stop talking till the last moment and started up again the second the exam was over! Wow. I was worried that the proctors would pull us up, but they were cool as this Chinese girl was careful not to break the rules. Here's a vague advantage of having a last name that begins with 'A' - you get to sit right in the front.

If one felt thirsty, one could drink at the water table, after handing over one's book to the proctor. Bathroom breaks required the same procedure - one took one's exam ticket along for re-entry.

Session 1 was a breeze. This was the universal opinion, judging from conversations around me, as I hurried from the convention center and back to the hotel room to warm up my lunch. My husband and sons had gone off to IKEA where they were having fun choosing study tables. 

Apparently, one can go easy on the reporting time. This time I checked in @ 130pm for the 2pm-5pm  2nd session. We were assigned the same spots as before. This was convenient because some candidates had forgotten their calculators at their seats! I'm not kidding. Those instruments would have cost $100 each I'll bet. Who forgets expensive stuff at moments like these?!!!

As usual, the green vested proctors handed out the exam books after which the head proctor (in an orange vest) read out the instructions. The microphone sucked. Nobody understood what he was saying and did their own thing, for which some of them were chastened (e.g. - my Chinese friend). My young friend was super sleepy and communicated this fact by spreading herself all over her section of the table, groaning loudly, and sulking at intervals. This was not helping me at all. Thankfully, the gorgeous CFA candidates were sitting at a safe distance so there were no further distractions.

Session 2 was a killer. It was as difficult as Session 1 had been easy. Why did the CFA Institute schedule this tough exam for the afternoon session when everyone would be sleepy? I don't know. It was devious. At the most trying parts of the exam (and there were many such parts), I could hear - not my late mother's voice - but the thick accented drone of my Thunderbird Data Analysis professor (!!!).


There seemed to be not much universal discussion about Session 2 because everyone was in a hurry to get home. Plus they looked struck by the wrecking ball of the CFA level 1.

As I walked back to the hotel room, I thought of my sons and husband. It was fun to see some kennel mascots who looked more like werewolves rather than dogs. They may have been werewolves. I don't know. From the conversations around me, I realized I wasn't alone in this experience. Although there were young investment banking hot shots who were super smug and 'with it', there were also scores of candidates who were doing it because they wanted a step forward, or maybe their companies had some skills requirement, or just for fun (like my brainy Chinese friend who was still doing her bachelor's in Accounting and Finance, no less)...Whatever. I thought of my 1 month's speed reading prep and told myself - "If people with 10 years of investment banking experience can retake the exam with 4-5 months hard work, so can I!"

A gorgeous CFA specimen held the walkway door open for me with a smile. He was a major stud muffin. I saw some shaggy big lovable dogs and their rightfully proud owners. The hotel was playing old time Christmas songs. It was a peaceful twilight. As I entered the room, my husband embraced and kissed me. The kids said they'd missed me. They told me my IKEA Princess Cake was in the fridge. It was a zen moment.

Delayed Gaga Over Gaga

Yesterday evening, my husband and I set out on our first date (sans children!) in 8 1/2 years, to watch Lady Gaga in action during 'Summerfest', at  Milwaukee's lakeside Marcus Amphitheater.

The leather jackets of late June in Milwaukee, WI - the home of Harley and Buell

I am a great fan of the Lady, as she is original, unapologetically self-proclaimed weird, and a passionate perfectionist...not to mention compassionate, empowering, and inspirational. I personally was expecting high standards and to be honest, I wasn't disappointed by Gaga herself. Her show was energetic, arty cool, flamboyant, even kinda touching (when she played the piano and sang 'Born This Way' with heart, legs splayed, with no other accompaniment)...ok, that sentence didn't quite turn out the way it should have...

 

Yet, my husband and I left an hour into the show quite disappointed - not with her performance - but with her sense of punctuality .
 

So, the show was scheduled for 7:30 p.m. on June 26th 2014. We hurried to the venue an hour in advance, as we had read of long queues, milling crowds, parking nightmares, etc. - none of which we encountered in the mighty fine Midwestern city of Milwaukee.

The infamous scalloped bra...

We had great seats - the best seats, in fact - about 50 feet from the stage and at a higher elevation. Perfect. Throngs walked up and down the aisles cheering their fellow audience members, braving the 50 degree chill and the fog rolling in from the lake abutting the amphitheater. And so we all sat, shivering and waiting for Godot as it were, and slowly going gaga.

 

Crayon Pop, the helmet-wearing Korean girl band opening act, were fairly entertaining, saccharine sweet, eager to please...Their music was a mix of dance, disco, techno...I suppose 'bubblegum pop' would be a fairly apt description. They gave it their all, bravely attempted to speak American with clarity, and bopped off 45 mins later.

Crayon Pop

Then came Lady Starlight (who could pass off as Gaga's twin). She was very cool and edgy, wore a deep blue mini dress with a sailor collar, and played club beats on her Roland, jerking spasmodically. She was clearly into the music and enjoying herself. Her crinkly eyes and smile were infectious. For a while. The crowd danced occasionally when they could (note - they were anywhere between the ages of 13 and 70, many of them tottering about resolutely for their star).

 

One of our neighbors, a pudgy lady in her 60's, dressed in a sequined top, black leather leggings, and black kitten heels shook her Mohawk and creaked about in stern camaraderie. The audience was as colorful as the much anticipated entertainment...In fact, with their costumes and wisecracks, they provided better entertainment than the opening acts. 

 

After 45 mins of drum beats, Lady Starlight turned boring as well. The swirling club lights, flashing spots, and occasional pink and green laser displays grew jaded. My elderly neighbors were actually yawning and set us off too. Security kept promising us that Gaga would open at 8pm, then 830, and finally 9pm (!). Alas. My husband and I realized at that point that we would have to leave midway, as our kids were home with a babysitter.
 

So, when Lady Starlight bowed out, the crowd breathed a sigh of relief that went up like a nimbus cloud in the freezing cold. Lady Gaga didn't disappoint - she was right there in our faces at 9:30 p.m. - "G.U.Y.!" - with her incredible vocals, style, flamboyance, and totally cool song and dance show with flashy fit dancers, spandex, balloons, gyrations, squid suits...and expletives...lots of them in a vain attempt to wake up the audience.



Mama Monster...Note the alien orb on her chest.

And yet, the crowd (including the mosh pit) drooped from end-of-day tiredness (it was a weekday after all), from having had too much to eat and drink, and from the biting cold. If Gaga had indeed moved fast through the opening acts (45 minutes each) and started at a warmer 8:30 or 9:00 p.m., many would have moved to her beat, instead of standing frozen in a state of near hypothermia, hugging themselves in the frosty night.

The domed, tentacle-ridden, Santorini style set.

An hour into her show, at about 10:30 p.m., many of the 35+ crowd walked out with us, presumably home to their children. As we were making our way to the doors, we could hear Gaga's impassioned commands, "Raise all your mobile phones, you fucking crazy kids!", "You are beautiful babies! And do you know what beautiful babies get? They get to have a fucking good time!" Ho hum. Well, good night darling. When the mobile phones come out, you know exactly what level of interest your show has garnered, even in this day and age when mobile phones are practically attached to everyone's hands.

 

You know, Lady Gaga, you are one artist who commands a DIVERSE fan base. As a Mama Monster, YOU should know better than all others that your fans and admirers make a great effort to attend your shows. Your fans come from all walks of life (we even spotted Gruber of Gruber Law there - yes, the "One call, that's all!" guy), and from all age, income, class and lifestyle groups. Don't you think you should respect their time, interest, and love for you by starting your show somewhat on time? You are a world-class professional for whom we pay top dollar. Carelessness is something I'd expect from someone shallow...but not you.
 

Although my husband and I enjoyed ourselves very much indeed, and indeed have wonderful memories of the show, we were disappointed by the wait. Seriously.

 

I was especially put off as I had made the choice between Motley Crue (with Alice Cooper) and yourself, simply because my husband would have preferred your youthful entertaining show rather than to have watched a bunch of grandpas belt out a headbanger's ball (that I personally wouldn't have minded at all, actually).
 

I continue to believe in you and your originality. Just don't be terribly late again please.

 

For those interested in watching Gaga - I'm sure this particular show was a one-off...so I would give it a 3/5 rating. I believe the general response to Gaga concerts has traditionally been phenomenal...
 

Bottomline: The show itself was great throughout. The songs were all from her latest album Artpop, but snatches of several earlier hits were sung as well (Telephone, Bad Romance, Poker Face, to name a few). It was still worth braving the cold for, although I would opt for an indoor performance the next time. Let's face it, I am growing older and would like more predictability in my life. I don't want to attend a concert and face pneumonia the next day.

Oh Those Russians!

Men in smashing uniforms...who can sing...and dance with deadpan expressions. What more can one ask for? :)

Here are the very cool Russian police singing 'Get Lucky' with their 'Gru'-like accents...http://www.nbcolympics.com/video/russian-police-choir-performs-get-lucky-opening-ceremony?ctx=top-moments

They're so very bad...they're good. Oh those Russians!!!

Hilarious Homophones/graphs

Depending upon how the future unfurls, we might make the move to the big, buzzing metropolis a 100 miles away...In the meanwhile, even as the First Mate has decided to cross the bridge when we come to it, the obsessive-compulsive yours truly has already begun an anxious research of the city's safe neighborhoods, the best school districts, homes and condos for sale, their proximity to the office/university, pediatricians and GPs in the area, public transport, conveniences available, and so on.

 

Did I mention that all this is being done without any concrete decisions having been made? Well, I say what is a man (or woman, in my case) without a dream? This city dweller is ready to move back into her natural habitat.

 

Some funny moments have popped up thanks to google. A query such as - "Which _______ neighborhoods are saturated with desis?" is met with numerous responses - "Which _______ neighborhoods are saturated with disease?" HAHAHAHA

 

I must say google is not very far from the truth.

 

Here's another cross-cultural homophone/graph I heard long ago on London's desi radio. The DJ went - "Coming up, it's 'Kholee kay peek'" He meant 'Choli ke peeche' (pronounced 'chcholee kay peechey', and meaning 'behind one's blouse'...yes, a rather unsubtle sexual innuendo, in true Bollywood style). Again, even with a mispronounced song title, the DJ did send the message home.

 

How to Get in Touch With Your Feminine Side...Indian Style

My husband brought each of our sons a lungi as a gift from Madras (yes, I am one of those old fogies who still refers to Singara Chennai by its older - and more fitting - name). The First Mate is one of those Dekkani Muslim men who prefers a lungi to the pyjama kurta (that my father favors). Something about a pursuing a 'sense of freedom' and allowing air to freely circulate, he says. Well, each to his own.

I suspect (and know!) there are other conveniences that accompany the wearing of a lungi, but those need not be dwelt on right away. As long as one exercizes a moderate amount of imagination, one may no doubt divine these lungi-bound perks...

Tamizh Superstar Vikram whose well aired ... are well covered by his gold bordered lungi

So, the Singapore Singaran - who, as an infant, was once indifferent to his father's sleepwear, and  has now become very curious about it - was delighted to have a lungi of his own! It is patterned in a merry green and blue plaid, perfect for a young man of 8...a pattern known to the world as 'Madras checks' - as we discovered, when we were given a carpet swatch by a representative of Empire Carpets.

 

How did we describe the design in Madras itself? Simply, as 'checks', or by the less popular 'tartan'. Actually, if you mentioned 'tartan', the shopkeeper would probably have mistaken it as 'tartar' and maintained a respectful distance...Not that anybody could identify the tartans themselves in the 1980s and 90s...or today, for that matter. After all, Madras back then was just good old, laid-back Madras - plain calm, and cool, where nobody got worked up about the accuracy of names. They dealt with it by just getting creative and churning out more checked patterns.

Madras Madness

But to return to our son's absolute thrill in teasing his lungi from its snug plastic wrap...He was ready for it, we could tell. Of course, he wore it with a t-shirt, and we wrapped it around him, making a pleat and folding over the top twice so it wouldn't come undone (very important, that). Once outfitted thus, our Singapore Singaran was joy incarnate! He jumped from bed to bed and finally skipped down the corridor to look at himself in the mirror. His first words? "NOW I know what it feels like to be a girl!" LOL

 

He is such a darling.