BID BALLS @ 3.12

This morning started with me driving a friend to the airport with about 30 minutes notice because their other ride was apparently still drunk from a heavy Monday night of drinking.

Of course I drive and see the Dow opening at +200 and not being able to hold it. So naturally I want to buy some puts but I didn’t grab my laptop and there probably wouldn’t be free wireless anyway. I really need to get wireless trading on my phone. The $50 a month data plan is almost starting to be worth it.

Then we rally and at about 3:00 pm or so I see the Dow is up something like 340 points, so I buy some puts and go to class. Near the end of class I get a txt stock quote on my phone that says +415.

Oh shit.

I don’t really care that it rallied that far. In this market buying puts when we’re up 340 is a pretty good idea, and I can’t really base my strategy off a once-in-five-year event.

The Nikkei is selling and I’m not waiting up for Europe.

This weekend I did some over payed work. I didn’t work much, but had to spend 3 days in a different city so I was well compensated for that. However some scheduled payment to my checking account didn’t go through for some reason, so I had barely any money since I don’t keep cash in my checking. So a pretty boring weekend. Just enough money to afford food.

Over this long stretch of time I was able to watch Wall Street again which was nice. I also looked over a ton of trades I did over the past 6 months and realized that a lot of my trades didn’t work out because I didn’t have the balls to stay with them. Basically I ended up bleeding slowing from small losses and comish.

So after looking through a couple hundred charts and staying up until 3 in the morning I have 4 trades to put on tomorrow at the open that will I’m going to stick with.

Oh, and I’ve been laughing my ass off since this whole Spitzer thing started.

BID TIME @ 3.01

My girlfriend and I sit at a table by ourselves. The candle on the table and the orb light fixtures cast a soft, dim glow through the room. Some electronic music plays in the background as we sip our drinks.

I feel like I should be happy, but I’m not. I did a lot of things right, but I could’ve done better.

On Thursday I bought puts in XOM, INTC, EEM and SPY. By most measures I had a pretty good day, but there is a persistent nagging feeling that I could’ve done better. I could have bought more puts, I could’ve held them until 3:50.

My drink is good, something my girlfriend ordered. Flavored vodka and cranberry juice. We talk for a bit. Other plans for the weekend, the coming week, the summer.

But I feel like I should be back in front of my computer, going over charts and trades again. That’s the motivation that keeps me trading. That feeling I could have done better. That desire to prove myself.

Trading is pure. This bar I sit in buys alcohol, mixes it and provides me and environment to enjoy it in return for cash. Trading cuts out the part where a business provides a good or service. Trading is buying something and selling it more.
Cash out, security in. Security out, more cash in. Business can’t get any simpler than that.

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ASK RESPONSIBILITY @ 18.50

I woke up at 8am and watched the markets open. The heater in my room doesn’t work well and I was freezing.

I sit through some classes. During the lectures I am getting the quotes on the INDU and SPY. Things are looking ok.

Dr. Steenbarger had a good post. The culmulative tick is nice to look at. I have a lot of respect for him after reading Enhancing Trader Peformance.

Lately I’ve been taking the approach of trading more of less. The general idea is that you’re better off trading 1 contract 10 times in a day instead of 10 contracts 1 time a day.

I later went to a Starbucks and decided to just spend some time there. I’m just sitting on a couch, reading the paper, enjoying my coffee. Apparently Starbucks hasn’t switched to free Wi-Fi yet, so I send some angry, profanity laden emails to T-Mobile about their over priced internet. $6 for one day of internet?! As I look out the window I see a police car pull up and a cop comes in and heads to register. Nothing usual, a friend of mine used to work at Starbucks and they would give free coffee to police sometimes. After reading some more of my paper I realize the empty cop car is still parked outside. It’s also running, has its headlights on, and wide shield wipers going to clear away the snow.

Maybe the cop is just taking a bit longer. I read another article and then go to get some more coffee. The cop is leaning against the counter having a friendly conversation with one of the baristas. After sitting back down and having my coffee I start to get annoyed. It’s been about an hour now that this cop’s car has just been sitting outside wasting gas for no reason.

I feel Daniel Loeb-ish, but shit like that pisses me off.

On the bright side, maybe someone’s superior will get a letter and a photo of a license plate

On a trading note, buying some Intel puts tomorrow looks nice.

BID ALCHL @ 2.22

It was cold Friday night as my girlfriend and I walked to a typical house party. My hands got as I tried to switch holding a soda between them. The walk wasn’t far and soon we were climbing the unmaintained steps of a typical college student house. Once inside I took a large water-bottle filled with cheap vodka out of my coat pocket.

How collegiate.

I knew some people their and we talked and laughed. Yet it was all very typical. The behavior of drunken college kids even seems boring. I poured my drinks strong  and only have hazy memories of the latter part of the night.

Vodka for college students is a fine line. You want your vodka cheap, but not too cheap. Nice, but not too nice.

This vodka was both too cheap and not too nice. At the time it was barely noticeable, however the next morning it was.

I wake up to the annoying ring of a cellphone alarm. But not just any phone, a Motorola RAZR. It’s the classy way to wake up if you live in 2004.

Morning are terrible. Normally I feel mildly hungover whenever I wake up due to going at least 6 hours without caffeine. But this morning was terrible. But I’m soon dragged out of bed by a hungry girlfriend who wants breakfast.

Saturday went quickly like all weekends do. Leaving you with enough time to think you can get stuff done, but not enough time to actually do anything.

We decide to stay in Saturday. Maybe go get one drink at a bar, and then watch a movie or something. We find a nice bar far from campus, but still within walking distance. A small place that’s relaxed and has a very calm atmosphere for a Saturday night. After having a few drink we come to the mutual conclusion that we probably aren’t going to watch a movie. We then proceed to continue drinking.

In a drunken lapse of judgment we decided to go to another bar. This lapse of judgment is further compounded by a decision to get cigarettes at a gas-station along the way.

I don’t smoke. I did for a few months, but after the novelty wore off I didn’t see the point. It surprises me  because my addiction to caffeine is so strong, yet nicotine doesn’t do much for me. But sometimes a drunken cig can be nice.

We finally get the crowded “hip” bar. As soon as we walk in we are told there is a $3 cover. I’ve never understood that. This business charges me $3 for the privilege of being able to spend money on their product?

The place is crowded and loud. Filled with the stereotypes of college students. $10 minimum on debit card charges, and an ATM in the back charging $2.50 for a withdrawal.

After spending $13 on drinks I was more than happy to leave.  After a drunken sub sandwich and a long walk we stumble into my room

BID LIFE @ 20.05

Saying you “day-trade” scares people. Or it causes them to have an expression of concern.

“Day-trading” has a reputition. Attached to it is the image of a disposable, 30-something corporate pawn quitting his unfufilling job to trade stocks during the tech boom in an attempt to become right, but instead gambles away Little Timmy’s college fund, has his wife leave him, and continue into a downward spiral of debt and alcholism.

Thanks asshole.

I don’t “day-trade”, I don’t “swing trade”, I just trade. Buy a security, sell it for more.

Growing up in the tech-boom I saw a lot of commericials for brokerages that are now bankrupt and absorbed by a mega-brokerage created through a series of mergers. Those were the commericials, the images, that made me want to trade when I was in elementary school.

What happened between then and now doesn’t really matter and is probably similar to most peoples’ experience. I took stupid risk and lost money, briefly chased the holy grail of trading, and finally came to my senses.

Stories don’t really have beginnings or ends, and if the author makes them, they tend to be arbitarily put someplace. Like stop-losses.

Let’s make Wednesday the beginning. Waking up at 8 isn’t much fun. I hate mornings. At least I don’t live in California. How the fuck could you be trading at 6:30AM? You’d be better off trading the Nikkei. I have an espresso machine but I’m not in the mood for doing work, so a Starbucks double-shot comes out of the fridge. Good stock since Schultz is back, but it’s acting like shit.

Gap down for the morning so I buy some calls. Boring morning that can’t fill the gap and keeps hitting the same resistance. I sell half the contracts, put on a tight stop and go to class. On my walk over I decide class will be boring and instead walk to go get my car from the garage.

I realize soon enough I’ve made a big mistake. It’s incredibly cold out and there isn’t any direct way to walk there. 2.5 miles seems like a lot less in a car.

I send a text to Google to get the quote on SPY.

Stock:
SPY (SPDR S&P 500)
134.90 (-0.62/-.46%)
Feb 20 12:08 pm ET
AMEX DL 20min

When I left it was 135.15. So I pick up the pace toward the garage so hopefully I get back in time before SPY tanks after filling the gap. Thank god I live in a city with terrible public transport.

After waiting for the lone garage attendee to finally finish his call I get my keys back and pay. I speed back to campus, run to my room, throw my bag and coat on the floor and smash my hand on the keyboard to wake my computer up. I see SPY reaching 135.70 around 1:07 and I sell the rest.

Leaning back in my chair, I’m happy as hell. Of course I could’ve held on for the FOCM shit later on…but why? The last time the Fed said anything I got a nice rally in some XLF calls, a terrible sell-off, a bigger rally, a huge sell-off, a massive gap down the next morning and then a rally. Such a terrible reaction.

Nothing happened Thursday.

Today was the kind of day where you know you shouldn’t trade, but still do. Damn thing was range-bound most of the day. Finally it looks weak and I buy some puts. Then fucking Ambak comes out.

Originally I wasn’t going to trade today. I was woke up at 8am from 6 hours of sleep with a mild hangover and the typical caffeine headache. But the annoying little part of me that says “exercise more”, “eat healthy and drink less”, and “be more organized” was telling me to get my lazy ass out of bed.

After taking a larger loss today that part of me is saying I should get to bed and work more. But after spending the last 6 hours looking over charts, intra-day data, news, etc… to see what the hell happened today and where we might be going, I need to get out for some fun.

Trading is exhausting. People don’t usually understand how tiring sitting in front of a screen all day and risking money is. The stress wears you down.