Friends and family have a lot to say about trading. None of them are actually involved in trading or banking so basically I have learned to listen, grin and bear it. From the fact that traders are not ” working” as they are not ” producing” anything to the comments that we are actually vultures gaining easy money, I heard it all. But I believe that what is the most disturbing for many people is simply the fact that trading means you are openly showing that you are ineterested in one thing: making money. This is frowned upon in our society. Making money is a dirty job; you get approved if you start giving it generously or sharing it with – in this order: your friends ( nice meals and gifts), your family ( same as before but add the holidays and many loans that never get reimbursed) and finally charities of your choice ( choice that is always being criticized by your friends and family).
But the funny bit is that once you have been trading for a while and haven’t ended up in the streets, the same people as above start asking you for tips and advice about trading. That’s a trap of course, because as soon as you do they will contradict you; if they ever use the tips and make money, they assume they deserve all the credit and you only confirm their first opinion ( this means: if I were in your shoes I would be a millionnaire by now). If your tips fail, you never hear the end of it. So I don’t give tips. I have no opinion on the economy, the markets, my best friend’s grand mother’s shares future. I know nothing. I just trade. So now the aim of the questions have shifted; it is all about: where do you start?
Well, to start with, I’d suggest you have a plan. Even the best traders had more or less one before they started and not many people earned a fortune within days. ( When they do, it is usually called the lottery. And most winners had had lots of practice in that department too anyway). But before you start trading, you have to know why and how it is going to happen.
Why do you want to trade? this is an important question. Making money is definitely not the only answer. Because if it is, you have all sorts of ways to do this and they will probably be easier. It takes time to make money trading. Some people never get there. Some people do, but not as much as you’d imagine.
You have to know when you are going to trade. You may decide you are going to do the UK or the US market ( or the German, the French, the Italian, the Swiss….whatever)- which means playing the stock market. Or you want to do Forex ( the currencies change market). Or play the indices- which means you play the DOW, the FTSE, the DAX, the S & P 500, and so on. You very rarely do all of them at the same time. Do I have an advice on it? Not really. If you want to learn slowly but surely start with the stock market. It moves slower than Forex or indices. But it is not always easy . The stock market have different sectors; some may perform well because of some news or results, when the other don’t. It’s up to you to do your homework. Which leads us to the next point of your plan:
How are you going to trade? Are you going to trade during the day? After work? When you can ? All the time? .My advice : don’t ditch the day job yet. You may discover that trading is not for you. If really your fingers are burning, take a 2 weeks holiday and find out what your start looks like. If you trade the stock market you definitely have to do your homework. This means that you have to be aware of the news, the company you’re investing in or against ( if you think the company is going to be more worthy and the chart will go up, you buy or ” go long”. If you think that the price of the share is going to go down, you sell or “go short”). But you have to define when you will do all of this – and trust me, it is time consuming. As for the Forex and the indices, you have to be aware of any news that might shift the sentiment about them – and you have to know how these reacted in the past . If you have no clue, do not play.
How are you going to trade? I personnally spreadbet using my computer(s) at home. I have several brokers online- with my passwords, account numbers and other details stored in my head and ready to serve; I also have a sticker with my broker’s phone numbers on it – if my computer fails I do not want to be in trouble. Does it happen? All the time. So what tools are you going to use? Are you going to go to courses, to read books, to meet other traders, go to conferences, read magazines?. Are you going to spreadbet ( sorry for the US folks reading this, spreadbetting is not allowed in the US), do CFDs ( contracts for a difference) or buy/sell shares?. Who is going to be your broker?
You have to have a strategy. This means that you may use fundamentals ( very good if you intend to stay in a trade for several months or years), technicals ( most people use this when they want to stay in a trade anything from 2 seconds to severals years, but in my opinion indispensable to just understand the basics) or simply read the news and the company reports and act upon it. Some people mix all of these techniques. The secret is that there is no better way than another: you have to find out what works for you.
You have to know how much money you are going to use. My only advice is : do not use all the money you have. You want to be a trader, not a gambler. A trader is in for the long run. A gambler…well, gamblers end up in casinos where they have a better chance. Or not. You usually do not bet all of your capital on one go or two. This doesn’t give you the time to learn anything- and if you fail, you’re gone. The best way is to start small. Just use what you can afford to loose. Some people use 1% of their capital, some use up to 5 or 10. You have to know exactly how much you can afford to loose and stick to the rule.
Now you have to find out what your risk is. This means that if you play a trade that as as much chance of making you money than wasting it, you are not in safe territory. So it is up to you to determine what your chances are. Numerous books give you stategies to apply and how to calculate your risk/ reward ratio. You also have courses that teach you this. Don’t pay too much money for this kind of things.
You have to review your trades. You have to know why you got on a trade etc. You need to set up an entry price, an exit price, a stoploss price – and stick to it.
Now once you have all of this, I am going to go all Nikey on you: just do it.

Before you sign or buy anything, read all the prints, all the rules, everything. When you use a tool or a broker, explore all the possibilities they are offering you. Be thorough. Meet other traders and discuss and discover what your possibilities are. Some stories are spooky, exagerated, true, false. But it may raise questions and concerns that you’d be tempted to ignore – and this might be a big disadvantage once you are in trouble.
Store your info somewhere else than on your computer. If anythin happens to it, you are fucked. Trust me, it is the right word.

Now I wish you good luck.

Ha! You really thought I was going to fall for this one? I have none the less an answer for you. I don’t know many Muslim women. Some do wear the veil – and they are not the extremists or traditionalists that you ‘d imagine they are. Some don’t wear the veil – and they are not progressists in any way. At the end of the day, like always…- isn’t it what they have IN their head that is important and not what they have ON it?
Now Mr Blair made a phenomenal U turn in his politics this week but saying that immigrants should conform to our culture or else. I guess this includes the debate over having your picture taken with or without a veil. Phew, I thought I had to go though this one now…

So we went to Lille for 3 days. We packed the kids, the luggage, the stuffed animals the girls can’t sleep without, the dvds to watch while travelling, the water, the biscuits, we piled it all up in our Renault Grand Espace, and we headed for Dover and the Eurotunnel. I will shut up about the fact that I regret the times when we didn’t have a screen in the head rests and the children had to ask every minute: ” When do we arrive?…Is it still far?…”. To be honest my children almost never asked. They had game boys and Play station before they could properly talk – so they are used to travel without even thinking that this might be boring. They are in trance all along.
But in the Eurotunnel you have no choice. The engine has to be turn off and no electrical equipment can be on. So here it goes: ” Is it going to be long?…When do we arrive?”. I haven’t been nostalgic for very long.
From London it take aproximately 4 hours to get to Lille. I had been there before several times but except my eldest none of my kids had ever seen the place. We stayed at the Carlton which is situated near the train stations and basically in the middle of the city. So we could walk everywhere- which I like. Taking the bus or any kind of transport with five children is a nightmare around Christmas. There is not much to see though; we went on the big wheel and admired the incredible view above all the roofs of Lille. I dislike being so high but the boys loved it. we visited the Christmas market , but I was not impressed. We had a look around the shops and bought quite a few dvds and books. As we all speak french it is a good way to maintain it and learn new expressions – and slang. We walked in the streets and enjoyed the high and imposing buildings. The mixture of the styles – french and Flemish- has a very imposing structure that I like . You feel protected there. I felt also rich. You see beggars here and there. Most of them are alcoholics. They talk alone and get angry. It is not as bad as in edinburgh, for example, but it is still painful to see. Most passersby do not notice them anymore.
The food is nice . You have lots of creperies there- all sorts of pancakes await you. We ate them every evening , standing up in the street. It’s a cheap meal that fills you up easily. The kids love them. My husband drank some vin chaud- the equivalent of mulled wine. We sometimes had a gauffre – a waffle. At lunch we enjoyed foie gras , a French delicacy that most foreigners don’t understand. The foie gras is the oversized liver of a duck or a goose; you can have barely cooked or in pate. It is an acquired taste. In France or Switzerland we tend to feed our children with eat on big occasions. Most children don’t like it to start with. But after a few trials they get accustomed to it. As it is expensive and rare ( but less and less so) the more you can eat the better you feel. My boys love it. My girls just tried it – and spit it out. That’s alright, they will try it again. The main courses contain usually something with beef or chicken . The French are not shy with vegetables- which is a pleasure for me. With the English you have to search your plate to discover where the cook has hidden them. Lots of English people are constipated. We most of the time dropped the desserts as we were more than full. But we enjoyed our food and all came back with pot bellies.
I am ashamed we didn’t go into any museums or churches. Not this time. I didn’t have the courage but we liked our walks through the city. We brought back food and wine. We’re getting ready for the Christams party…

I don’t know many professional traders. By professional, I mean traders who work for a bank, a fund, an institution of some sort. Nowadays I’ve heard you need to have some degree to become one – and an FSA exam. My fellow traders are like me; people who got fed up to be told what to do or who couldn’t get a job anymore because they are ” too old” ( i.e. above 45). But they are guys who still want the money.
Now lots of people have distorted glasses when it comes to trading; you have the ones who believe that it is evil, that only greed drives you, you’re a bloody useless capitalist ready to take the wool out of some poor workers stiff back and you will end up in the streets with no one to cry over you. You have been warned. The others think that you are going to be the next big guy, flashing Rolex and Ferrari with two blonde girls to body guard you. They want to be in your shoes. What make are they by the way? You have Tods as slippers, haven’t you?
The 3rd cathegory is far more discreet. They are the ones who knows. You don’t make money in one day and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what to do. You may end up having a Porsche , but it will mostly remain in the garage while you sweat behind your computer. Your wife wears Prada, Armani and Gucci, but you wouldn’t know your kids names as you never see them. The reason you’re not divorced is that, for all that you know, your wife’s lover might have been in your bed for the last ten years but as for you, you sleep in your office. You drink tons of coffee- tea if you’re English- and you look 15 years older than you really are.

So what does it take to become a trader?. You have to want the money, all the way deep down inside. If you think you do but somehow believe that money is dirty/ tacky/ undeserved- you’re fucked. Then you have to have an open mind. The market always have the last word- and the last laugh. What you think is going to happen doesn’t count. It is what you see that matters. You have to be ready for the market; you must have at all time an answer. If you don’t, it will be like driving a car without knowing how to brake.
You have to be disciplined. The only way to find out what you are worth is to have a trading plan, including some money management ( no, you don’t bet all your money on one horse only), some risk management (how much can you take and how much are you willing to suffer?) and a strategy. You should always know when you buy, when you sell, when you cut your losses. And you have to be prepared to have losses- they happen all the time. Keep a journal and write down everything- how much you put on a trade, your strategy, the time of your entry/exit/whatever and the outcome.
Once you have all this, you start working. It means you try a strategy, you play it until you know even in your sleep what you’re doing and you back test everything you have done. Then you learn another strategy- once you have started making some money. If you lose more than 40% of your initial savings- stop. You’re doing something wrong. Have a look at your trades. Review one by one each of them. You may discover that between 10 and 11 Am you’re not good and make bad decisions. You may discover you enter your trades too late. You might even discover that your strategy makes you nervous or that after a loss or a gain you blow it. Find were your weaknesses are- and you will find a path.
In most of the books I have read the emotional side of trading is reduced to a few paragraphs on what the French call ” de la psychologie de cuisine” ( cooking psychology, i.e. such basic stuff that your 4 year-old kid could tell you what it means). Truth is, you are going to ride on a roller coaster. And you’re gonna puke many many times. You have to have good nerves and be ready to take a few punches in the stomac. You have to be focused and hold on to your dreams. If you’re in only for the money, you’re lying. You have to love the game. If it gives you white hair within the first 6 months, get out. You’re dead already and you don’t know it.
Now you will always meet a trader who’s cleverer than you are. Some lie – they are easy to spot. Some brag – but soon reality takes them back to earth. Some have ups and downs. Some never say a word. You can work with a guy 12 hours a day and not know that he has a mother, a wife and speaks 5 languages. All you talk about are the markets and your latest trades.
You will never stop learning and you will have to be adaptable. The tools, the markets, the people change all the time. History sometimes repeat itself but sometimes not. Learning is never enough you will have then to apply what you’ve learned.
When you start dreaming about it every night you have a foot in the door.
And if you go that far…You will wake up on your death bed. I guess. Give me the time, but before that, I’ll say : ” show me the money!”.

PS:Oh yes. Every little hiccup is a she. Currency is a bitch, trades are hookers, and so on. I don’t care, I am a bitch myself and take great joy to see these tough guys on their knees because of a “she”. Told you I am mean.

I am a woman. My husband is a man. So far, so good. We are madly in love with each other. I can’t fall asleep without having at least my foot around his leg or my head on his shoulder. When I wake up in the morning his smell brightens my day. When I look at him I feel an overwhelming wave of tenderness. He makes me happy. He listens to me, rub my back when I am tired, support me when I get mad and he’s always there when I need him. He tells me he loves and he buys me flowers without having to cheat on me first. When we have some time together we always have something to tell to each other. We laugh at each other and each other’s jokes. Now stop puking.
So my life is paradise- or so I am told. My girlfriends envy me. My hubby is a great father, a fabulous lover, the best friend you can dream of. If I dare to disagree momentarily, women shrug their shoulders; he’s just a man, I should know better. Men start avoiding my eyes; they say I am clever enough to get everything sorted. So I am discovering that the war of the sexes still rages. Where is the problem? It is not the washing up undone, the socks across the room, the can of beer left on the chimney, the house chores that only get done by a female’s hand. It is not the fact that his work always seems to be more important than mine even though I may be this month / year the breadwinner of the family. It’s is not that, given the choice, I would happily sink in the sofa to read a book and let him do the thousand and ones little things that need to be done ( saw buttons, vacuum clean the house and the stairs, sort out the kids clothes, get rid of old paper junk, glue the pictures of the last 3 years in the family album….I could go on for ages). Instead you can find me doing all these things and more while he plays on his computer saying he’s taking a 15 minutes pause that usually last 2 hours and a half.
It is a no win situation; if I shut up, I have to do all the work. And the rest. If I talk, I am a pain in the ass. In both cases I ended up being unsatisfied. There is no egality in the bedroom.
Men I heard are quite proud of their passive resistance. They bragg that they couldn’t care less about the mess ( translation: I am above the unimportant), they joke that they are lazy, they just walk away and sulk. Women complain to each other in lengthy phone calls and long lunches and always end up the conversation by saying: oh well, that’s life.
But what life is it? Whose life?
I know the solution of course. I shall get a cleaning lady. Now who’s gonna pay for her you think?

As I mentioned before I am in the Uk at the moment – England for the ones who wonder. While I was watching ” The history boys” at the cinema, one of the character in the movie said that he was Muslim. ” Bastards!” cried a man among the viewers. I turned my head in his direction and so did my husband. But no one else did.
So what is the big deal here? English people are afraid of terrorism. Like most Americans as far as I know. Mr Bush has been quite relentlessly making propaganda for his war against terrorism. But a word like this is just a notion, an act; who hides behind it? Wars are not made by ideas but by men. Turns out that a bunch of extremists Muslims are now the ennemy. Mind you, in England the word is out that by 2025, the majority of the population will be Muslim. You can see necks sink into shoulders when you mention the fact. But so what? These people are already here. We talk to them, work with them, eat with them every day- and we don’t notice. Why? Because they are normal. They have nothing to do with the extreme that we fear so much and they are as shocked and as disgusted as we are. Worse now, they have to be associated with the shame – just because their beliefs have the same roots. Now wait a minute…I read the Coran and I read the Bible. They both say something similar: that was their God had to be the first God. Not the only one, the first before the others. So far, so good. But hey, listen, there is a twist: the Coran was brought to men by the archangel Gabriel- the same archangel who came to tell Mary that she was expecting the son of God according to the Bible. Two different religions, created by the same guy. Do you feel dizzy? It’s about time.
I don’t believe in God- I think I’ve said that before. I don’t believe in magic either or in aliens or in an overpowering energy of some sort. I do not believe that we are gods either, or part of him. I am a sad sod. What you see is what you get. And what I see, what the Bible and the Coran say, is that we are all the same.
Now go and blame someone else.

I went to see ” The Break Up” last summer. I was quite surprised to see a lot of young people (young= under 20) there as I would have thought that 1) chick flicks are an embarrassing place to be seen 2) how could any of them feel concerned by the subject 3) I had not become so prejudiced.
So this young guy sits just behind me with his flirt. He has pimples all over his face and greasy hair but you can still see him with his school uniform. She has one, the skirt has become ra-ra and she’s covered with make up applied with a trowel. He says:
– Have you been waiting for long? I am sorry I was late.
Her:
-Naaahhh.
– How long would you have waited for me if I hadn’t turned up?
-Oh,forever.
-You mean, what?, 15 minutes? 30?
-Yeah.
Silence.
-You could have gone to Starbucks, you know. I wouldn’t have seen you but you would, right?
– I went there.
The little guy:
-Oh woaw,man, I mean…You’re wild!

Not so prejudiced after all?