CupCate.com

So, basically, I'll keep giving a shit until Monday...

A lot of people wish to themselves that they didn't care what other people thought about them.

However, when it comes to most of the women I know, there seems to be the common mantra of, "I just need to not give a shit."

Whether it's "giving a shit" if a potential new boyfriend that's probably "just not that in to" us calls or not, or fretting endlessly about what our coworkers are saying behind our backs - we all tend to wish we just cared a little bit less about what's going on out there.

Lately, I definitely wish I didn't give a shit about stuff.

I wish I didn't give a shit what some of my contacts thought, and just said: "Listen, I really like you, but unless we decide when/if you're going to pay me, this really isn't going to work out."

I wish I could show up at 10:08 every morning with a piping hot soy-no-water-chai from Starbucks in my hands with my iPod blaring and float over to my desk like it ain't no thang and all the while laughing to myself because I know it's not like they can fire me (muahahahahah)...but I can't.

You'll find me at my desk no later than 9:15, and taking a 15 minute lunch to go get whatever I can find at Marks & Spencer that "isn't going to make me feel fat" and eat it hunched over my desk, feeling naughty as I read Fart Party for another 15 minutes.

I can't tell you how many times I've ignored a snide comment ("So do you have a plan? Do you know what you're going to do now that you don't have a job? Or are you just going to wing it?") because I don't know what will happen if I were to make it very clear that I DO in fact GIVE A SHIT.

Actually, I take that back. I pretty much do know what will happen if I voice my said giving of the shits: nothing.

Well, they will probably be caught off guard, think to themselves what a bitch I am, and move on. Or they won't even notice. Or they'll think I'm right.

...Or, they will freak out. Or, they'll Twitter about what a nasty bitch I am and then tell everyone on Facebook and then they'll Google Bomb me and make it so that when you Google my name you'll find some horribly set up web page that says, "...IS A FUCKING BITCH-HEADED TWAT WHO GIVES A SHIT!!!" written using the spray paint function on MS Paint and then EVERYONE WILL KNOW WHAT A HORRIBLE STUPID PERSON I AM AND NO ONE WILL EVER HIRE ME OR LOVE ME AND I'LL END UP HOMELESS AND ALONE (AND PROBABLY WITH A DISEASE).

I suppose the lesson in all of this is that I need to realize my worst fear is not going to happen simply by stifling my ridiculous need to go above and beyond and to hand out free sexual favors to prove that I'm nice and reliable...because sometimes "nice and reliable" means "pushover" and that's something I'm really not prepared to be.  (Anymore.)
 
So. I think tomorrow I'll start not giving a shit by writing some rather awkward emails, and by not smiling and saying thank you when someone offers to shove their foot up my ass for free.

And on that note, I really need to get to bed so I can get up early and catch the 8:19 train so I can get into work a half hour before I need to for reasons I don't understand...

Maybe I'll start this whole "not giving a shit" thing on Monday. (I'll be 23 that day. And officially unemployed. That seems like a good time to start.)

Inspiring women in business (to hate other women in business)

Last night I went to another one of those Inspiring Women In Business talks. The last one I went to was pretty good, so I thought I'd shell out the £25 to see the next one.

That was my first mistake.

My second mistake was showing up.

The third was not bringing my hip flask to spike all of the fucking free Vitamin Water (complete with colorful neon straws) they were giving us. You know how women are about their water!

So. We have a bunch of women sitting in a room, who are all there to listen to three women talk about personal branding and entrepreneurship, and who are all silently psyching themselves up to network and frantically scanning the list of attendees to see if there's anyone even worth talking to.

The first speaker goes by. She had presence, charisma, and stretched out, pixelized photos in her Power Point presentation. Aside from the latter she was fantastic.

The next speaker...I don't even know what happened. I couldn't understand a damn word she said, she droned on and on and on, and I still don't know what the hell her business is or why she was supposed to be inspiring.

The third speaker was interesting, but half way through some jackass behind me had a "question". The presenter of the evening asked her to stand up and ask her question and from behind me this grating, overly loud voice says,

"HELLO. My name is BLAH BLAH and I'm a freelance designer and I have been trying to get in contact with you company FOR YEARS and now that I FINALLY have you in the same room as me I just want to let you know that I have some GREAT IDEAS for you that I think you will REALLY LIKE and I WOULD LOVE TO SIT DOWN TO TALK WITH YOU."

There was a hum of laughter, and most of the women (including the presenter) broke into some sort of congratulatory applause and acted like this was an act of inspiring bravery. I, on the other hand, had my eyes closed and was doing breathing exercises because it was SO FUCKING AWKWARD.

The presenter smiled graciously and tried to tell us all, yet again, about a time when networking and bravery REALLY worked for her, but Miss Blah Blah in the back of the room wasn't done:

"And LADIES. If you're wondering where I got all this CONFIDENCE from, I'll tell ya. It's a book called THE SECRET, ladies, and it's in paperback and DVD. It is SO INSPIRING. IT CHANGED MY LIFE. YOU SHOULD GO OUT AND BUY IT."

More awkward cooing and uncomfortable applause.

Wow! I'm sorry...that was confidence? I thought it was tactless, awkward, rude, and inconsiderate jackassery. Maybe I'm confused.

Soon after the awkward Secret outburst, the third "inspiring" speaker was finished and we were encouraged to, "Get out there AND START NETWORKING!!!!!!"

And that, my friends, was the moment that I silently started screaming in my head.

Trust me, I like to network. I've met some really cool folks by networking. I get how important it is. I know. I KNOW.

However, I believe you have to have the right combination of things to create the right networking atmosphere.

You also need people in common fields. AND MAYBE BOOZE.

By this time none of us had had dinner and their idea of snacks were those quarter-sized mini sandwiches and odd shaped cheeses on sliced tomatoes. Fucking hell, people. A GIRL NEEDS TO EAT. It was almost 9 and the event started at 6:30. Hello. We're not ALL anorexic!

And also, I find that if you DON'T PUSH THE NETWORKING THING SO FUCKING HARD people will feel a lot more comfortable and natural when they do speak to someone.

It's like asking us to flirt on cue! I can't do that! And, to be honest, I'm pretty sure the idea of networking is that everybody is after something. It's a get and give situation. You're looking for clients, you're looking for a new job, you're looking for contacts that can increase your business and help you.

So when you tell us all to hop to and to get networking, it's just becomes so unnatural and feels really competitive...like a bunch of cats in heat wandering around scratching up against every thing in the room that moves.

I guess it pissed me off so much because every single fucking time I go to an event like this, especially when it's for women, I'm not only the youngest, but the only person in my field. Women In Business is such an odd term, if you think about it. Does that mean women who work? Women who start their own business? Women who are interested in business?

And why is it that I've been to TWO "INSPIRING WOMEN" events in one month? Can't they think of something else? Why do we always need to be inspired? I would much rather be fed and given free booze than given some lame *inspiring* speech. Talk to me straight. Tell me how you got to the position you're in. Give me a case study of yourself. Please don't feed me Eleanor Roosevelt quotes that I've already heard and posted on my Myspace page about 5 years ago.

There are shit loads of creative, YOUNG, smart ,savvy women out there who are in business and I'm sure they feel just like me at these events. Where are all the women in tech at these events I go to? Where are the writers? The artists? The photographers?

Why is always just the same women from banks and corporations and PR companies with the occasional bitchy fashion editor thrown in the mix?

I just want to go to an event, meet other creative working women, leave with a stack of business cards with at least 3 I actually will use and knowing that I met and talked to women who in the same sector as I am.

I've had enough of being let down and insulted by the snooty bankers and fake ass PR women that clearly are only talking to me for the sake of saying they met their business card distribution quota for the week.

Clearly, these situations will always arise.  At certain events and certain venues they are inevitable. However, I am simply saying that I refuse to participate and act like a Networking Sheep at another one of these "INSPIRING" women's events. I'm not going to pretend to like Vitamin Water or force myself to talk to people that clearly have no idea what a blog is, just for the sake of throwing out a business card.

The one thing I did learn at that even was from the first speaker who said "networking isn't about handing out business cards...it's about having genuine conversations with people and putting the best version of yourself out there".

So. From now on, I am going to be smarter about networking decisions. I am not going to something just because I was invited. I am going to go to something because I think that there is something I can truly gain and walk away with.

And not just a free bag of things women like. You know...like, fruity lip gloss and tiny bottles of bath gel. UGH.

Fear and self loathing in...the quiet suburbs of London

I thought I would try a new approach to this whole, looking for freelance work thing. Sure, being angry and panicky and all fearing the fear of failure is really good for my mental health and my husband just loves being around me when I'm like that - but I thought maybe I'd go out on a crazy, bald, umbrella slinging whim and try a different way of thinking.

I've been trying to make a lot of changes, lately. When I got back from Tokyo I was all, "Fuck this! This is my life! My L-I-F-E! It's short! I gotta start doing shit! HARDCORE." And then like magic, the Universe was all, "Hah-hah, Grasshopper. You want change? You think you want to live your life, HARDCORE!? YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND, SUCKA." And, like magic, my job refused to stop paying my obscenely high, trillion figure salary which then resulted in me making the decision to peace out.

So, in the midst of panicking and worrying about money and breathing in bags of all shapes, sizes and colors - I'm trying to...redecorate and refurbish my life.

See, I love myself. A lot. But I feel like somewhere over the past two years I went from being a really cute shabby chic studio apartment to being a 2 bedroom,1 bath cottage that sort of resemble the shabby chic studio aparment, but wtih considerably more room in both the rear and middle section. The owner started to feel really bad about the house, but was too busy enjoying red wine and pizza and sleeping in late to like, mow the lawn, get new furniture or replace the peeling wallpaper.

So, my goal is to refurbish the house, inside and out, to being the spacious one bedroom studio apartment with funky furniture, colorful walls and a tiny yet bountiful garden in front.

So, to do that, I've here's what I've been doing:

*  While I may not seem like the yoga type, I totally dig it. I've always to get ball bendy and stretchy and to be less homicidal and more zen, so I'm doing yoga once a week.

* I always look at cute girls with glasses and am filled with jealous rage, so I'm going to take my ass to Specsavers and get some cute glasses.

* I'm going to the gym! And working out! And lifting weights, and trying to, oh I don't know, fit into the hot jeans I used to wear when I first moved here. Imagine! JUST IMAGINE. If I could get my ass into US size 6s or 8s again, I would be SOOOO HAPPY!!!! (Fat and happy, I'm over it. I'm cool being thin and content. Or how about thinnish and not hating how her body looks every single fucking day of her life. My that sounds nice.)

* I've seriously been taking vitamins. Vitamins for my hair and skin, a multivitamin, and these nifty effervescent Vitamin C tablets. This really isn't that big of a deal, but I just wanted to type the word effervescent. It's my favorite new word.)

I'm trying to calm. I'm trying to center. I'm trying to get my shit together and move forward so I don't feel like a stagnant twat all the time. I just feel like I haven't DONE anything. It's horrible, and I defend myself all the time saying, "I'm not LUCKY! I had to WORK for all this!!!!!"

But I don't know if believe that anymore. Since picking up and moving here, I don't feel like I've been particularly brave or proactive about anything. Yes, I did a damn good at my job. Yes, I was asked to be on TV and in a magazine and to give some quotes here and there and was basically handed a writing job.

In my heart, I want to work my ass off. I want to be brave. I want to be tired and excited all of the time, and to take a massive risk, and then get to bask in the glow of my success.

But at the moment, I have to admit, I'm so scared of actually working that hard. I'm scared of taking a risk, because what if that glow doesn't come?

What if I'm the girl who moved here and then had some good shit happen to her...and then have that be it?

That can't be it.

I won't let it be it...but I have to admit I've been sitting here with a few tools and a shopping list of supplies I need to refurbish my "house"...and I feel like all I can do is sit and stare at my To-Do list through tearful eyes.

I can do this. I will do this.

It's just a shame getting started has to be this hard.

They tried to make me go to rehab...

...and I drank myself into oblivion instead.

My dear friend Isabelle had a housewarming party this past Saturday, and it was what the Brits call a "fancy dress" party. Personally, when I hear fancy dress it strikes fear into my heart because I don't have any fancy dresses and JESUS that means I would probably have to shave my legs or something. And wear nylons.

I hate nylons.

But actually, Fancy Dress = Costume Party, which = MUCHO GRANDE FUN.

The theme of said party was "heroes" (not the show)  and my hero, naturally, is a crackhead, scabby, emaciated, incredibly talented singer with a giant beehive and an incarcerated husband.

Behold the glory that is me as Amy Winehouse.

I'm not sure if halfway during the evening I decided that I really was Amy Winehouse or if the beehive made me feel like I could handle more alcohol than usual that night...but I definitely was, um, fucked up to say the least. I started out pulling my best "hammered Wino face"  in pictures at the beginning of the night, and then as things progressed, I'm pretty sure wasn't acting.

No, no, no...

I'd tell you to fuck off but you're probably following me on Twitter

Hi folks.

I apologize for my once-a-week posting, but, there's a lot going on at the moment; most of which can't be talked about. A lot of it is because there is far too much cross-over between my "real life" and my "online life", and although the whole "neighborhood only", "friends only", "friends and family" settings on VOX are fantastic...if I feel like I need to constantly downgrade, upgrade and kick people out of my neighborhood just so I can have some expression and release...I can't really decide if it's worth all the effort or not.

There are all of 2-3 people that I can really talk openly and honestly with about all that's going on at the moment, and for that I'm grateful - but I truly do miss being fearlessly open online. Of course, I always had my boundaries (no personal family talk, no airing out my dirty, marital laundry online) but I've felt all muted and censored lately. There's nothing wrong with having to watch what I say, as I know I'm making the right decision, but I just being able to FUCKING TALK.

It's like, there's so many companies and organizations and bloggers and journalists that I just want to rage on about...but I'm in such a vulnerable position I can't really afford to piss anybody off.

Does that make me weak and subservient to The Networking Gods? Or just smart?

Does anybody else feel like the Internet is just claustrophobic lately? It just kills me that I used be in this fantastic little bubble where I could slag off some idiot journalist who did something shitty and laughable one minute, and now I do the same thing and realize that we have 8 "mutual friends" on Facebook and follow the same people on Twitter and have high music compatibility on LastFM. SERIOUSLY?

Am I losing my balls or and caring too much what others think? I wish I had the clarity to know for sure at the moment.

I have a feeling it's just this awkward transition period that I'm in the middle of. Or maybe it's that fucking Mercury Retrograde everyone on here is always banging on about. Can I blame it on Mercury? Is he retrograding at the moment? What does that even mean?

Thanks to everyone for their job suggestions and concern for my ability to afford food in the next few months. I really am okay, and I've accepted the fact that a Magical CEO is not going to email me and offer me the most fantastic blogging job of all time that allows me to work from home whenever I want, and get paid £500 a day AND get paid ON TIME!

The Universe is leaving me to figure this out myself. I'm up for the challenge, it's just just a shame my mojo is only running on half power at the moment.