May 29, 2009 –
"The Debate": It's terrifying. The problem lies in the performances. That beleaguered husband, dough-faced and weary, seems highly sympathetic as he expresses a few doubts about this major life decision. Meanwhile, the wife (who looks like a more hostile Mary Louise Parker—though she lacks MLP's patented bone-dry delivery) just knits her eyebrows at the guy like he's unfathomably dense. Later, she jabs him with an accusatory "What?!"—her eyes wide and wild, her neck muscles flexed, her head twitching in disbelief at what a ninny her husband's turned out to be.
The capper comes when their real estate agent, who we discover has been listening in on what should be a private and delicate moment, takes sides with the wife and thereby crumbles the husband's defenses. Don't listen to her, John. Of course your agent wants you to buy a house you can't afford—she gets a bigger commission! [more]
April 07, 2009 –
This portfolio has 34 red thumb picks 7 are positve returns, 28 are negative returns. If this were a hedge fund or mutual fund it would outperform 99.99% of them. So don't hate me because I teaching you something, they did not teach you in school.
FYI - All female company, hilarity ensues:
Catfights over handbags and tears in the toilets. When this producer launched a women-only TV company she thought she'd kissed goodbye to conflict...
By Samantha Brick
Last updated at 2:36 PM on 07th April 2009
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Over in one corner sat Alice, a strong-minded 27-year-old who always said what she thought, regardless of how much it might hurt someone else. In the other corner was Sarah, a thirtysomething high-flier who would stand up for herself momentarily - then burst into tears and run for the ladies.
Their simmering fight lasted hours, egged on by spectators taking sides and fuelling the anger. Sometimes other girls would join in, either heckling aggressively or huddling defensively in the toilets. It might sound like a scene from a tawdry reality show such as Big Brother, but the truth is a little more prosaic: it was just a normal morning in my office.
The venomous women were supposedly the talented employees I had headhunted to achieve my utopian dream - a female- only company with happy, harmonious workers benefiting from an absence of men.
It was an idealistic vision swiftly shattered by the nightmare reality: constant bitchiness, surging hormones, unchecked emotion, attention-seeking and fashion rivalry so fierce it tore my staff apart.
When I read the other day that Sienna Miller had said there was no such thing as 'the Sisterhood', I knew what she meant.
I can understand why people want to believe that women look out for each other - because with men in power at work and in politics, it makes sense for us to stick together.
In fact, there was a time when I believed in the Sisterhood - but that was before women at war led to my emotional and financial ruin.
Five years ago, I was working as a TV executive producer making shows for top channels such as MTV, and based in Los Angeles. It sounds like a dream job and it could have been - if I'd been male.
Working in TV is notoriously difficult for women. There is a powerful old boys' network, robust glass ceiling and the majority of bosses are misogynistic males.
Gradually, what had started out as a daydream - wouldn't it be great if there were no men where I worked? - turned into an exciting concept. I decided to create the first all-female production company where smart, intelligent, career-orientated women could work harmoniously, free from the bravado of the opposite sex.
In hindsight, I should have learned the lessons of my past - at my mixed secondary school I was bullied by a gang of nasty, name-calling girls, so I knew only too well how nasty groups of women could become.
And working in TV, I'd met lots of super-competitive 'door-slammers' who'd do anything to get to the top. But I told myself that, with the right women, work could be wonderful.
So, in April 2005, I left my job, remortgaged my house - freeing up close to £100,000 - and began paying myself just £700 a month to set up this utopian business. Having worked extremely hard for 12 years, I had lots of experience and a good reputation. What could go wrong?
Picking my battles
I hired a team of seven staff and set up an office in Richmond upon Thames, Surrey. While the women I interviewed claimed to be enthused by the idea, they still insisted on high salaries. Fair enough, I thought at the time - they are professionals, and I knew most of them were talented and conscientious because I'd worked with them before.
But within a week, two cliques had developed: those who had worked together before and those who were producing 'new ideas'.
Most days would bring a pointed moment when some people were invited out for lunch or a coffee break - and some weren't. Nothing explicit was ever said; the cutting rejection was obvious enough.
Even when we all went to the pub after work, strict divisions remained, made clear according to who sat where around the table and who would be civil - or not - to whom.
Fashion was a great divider, though in this battlefield everyone was on their own. Hideously stereotypical and shallow as it sounds, clothes were a huge source of catty comments, from sly remarks about people looking over-dressed to the merits of their fake tan application.
I always felt sorry for anyone who naively showed off a new purchase in the office, because everyone would coo appreciatively to their face - then harshly criticise them as soon as they were out of earshot. This happened without exception.
Sienna Miller recently said the sisterhood does not exist after she experienced bitchy comments from other women
My deputy, Sarah, the general manager, first showed how much style mattered when she advertised for an office assistant and refused to hire the best-qualified girl because she could not distinguish Missoni from Marc Jacobs. This girl would have been making tea and running errands. But I didn't challenge the decision not to hire her because I had a policy of picking my battles carefully.
The office was like a Milan catwalk, but with the competitiveness of a Miss World contest - and the low cunning of a mud-wrestling bout.
A fashion spat ended one friendship when Sarah and our young development researcher received the same surprise Christmas gift - a Chloe Paddington bag worth £900.
When they clocked the matching bags in the office, it was like pistols at dawn. They forced a few compliments, but relations never recovered, to the expense of my company.
Another time, when two members of staff bought the same jeans, one proclaimed: 'They'll look better on me, because I'm a size eight and she's a ten.'
It didn't take long for the office to become divided between the girls who wore make-up and those who didn't. Comments from the former were typically 'Doesn't she know what spot cover-up is?' or 'Has she ever met a hairbrush?', while the no-make-up clan were equally biting, with comments - behind their backs, naturally - such as 'People on the morning bus must think she's a prostitute'; or 'She looks like a slapper'.
The obsession with appearance meant nearly all the staff were on diets. If I bought a tuna mayonnaise baguette for lunch, I would overhear staff commenting that I was pig - I'm a size 12.
Two of the skinny girls often snidely said about the largest girl: 'I'd kill myself if I got that fat.' One of the assistants got her own back on the food police for several weeks by pretending to buy them fat-free lattes. . . which were really full-fat.
Employees considered it acceptable to take time off for beauty treatments - and not out of their holiday allowance. One girl regularly came in late because she was getting her hair coloured, and when I mentioned this she blew up in outrage. Though at least she had a reason; most just turned up late regardless, and huffed 'That's the time my train gets in' if I pointed at the clock.
In hindsight, I can see I should have been more strict. My idealism was my downfall because I tried to see the best in people - I was convinced they would behave as they were treated, so I treated everyone kindly.
The rest of the story is here:
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1168182/Catfights-handbags-tears-toilets-When-producer-launched-women-TV-company-thought-shed-kissed-goodbye-conflict-.html
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