Britney and Board Rooms

Another day, another avoidance of the email and voice mail. This is absolutely the shittiest way to handle this and the usual MO when one lacks the sack to do the right thing. I just haven't quite figured out what that right thing is to do.

Unrelated thoughts:

1) I retract my desire to have carnal relations with Justin Timberlake. I still think he's talented, but he is freaking annoying. I don't even think I would buy a concert ticket. I might go if the tickets were comped, but yeah. No.

2) Britney Spears is not fucking fat. Jesus H. Christ. The girl probably weighs no more than 130 pounds at most, and she has natural tits and ass. Yes, that outfit left nothing to the imagination and didn't hide any of her imperfections, but the girl isn't fat. Stupid? Most certainly. I think we have watched someone have a nervous breakdown in real time and I, like many a snarker, have derived entertainment value in it, but I cannot believe how many reputable news outlets referred to her as chunky or fat, or otherwise commented negatively on her physique. That is so fucked up.

Yes, I can agree that she probably brought on the criticism with her underwear outfit. Subtle, that. Inevitable comparisons to her 18 year old body, prior to having two kids and a complete breakdown in front of the paparazzi, which she courts. I get that part. But that woman is not fat by any stretch of the imagination. We have this fucked up relationship with female celebrities where we have come to expect - if not demand - perfection and we take great delight in knocking them when they are normal human beings. We mock the bobbleheads like Nicole Ritchie and Paris Hilton for being human mannequins, and read magazines that speculate loudly whether Angelina Jolie has lost too much weight. Yet here was a woman who, again, after two kids, has her body in a shape most women would sell their souls for and all the media can talk about is that she is fat? I would love to weigh those writers.

I watched the opening of the VMA's with the P last night and I kept remarking that Britney's body looked fantastic. P immediately caught onto the fact that Brit was clearly stoned on something, as she had the passion and energy of Terri Schiavo at a rave, and that the internets would be merciless today. I was sort of transfixed on her body. Upon watching it on the computer today, however, I saw what P saw last night. Holy hell. I so want to feel sorry for that girl, as she is clearly in a downward spiral of epic proportions. I was never a fan - the chick can't sing, her music grates on my nerves, and she never had anything interesting to say when she was sane, but my holy hell, she is batshit nuts now.

I can't even blame it on the paparazzi and media. Initially, Ms. Spears declared jihad on underwear, but now, she doesn't even wear pants in public. I guess I can blame the pervy paparazzi who direct their lens to her crotch, but the chick goes out without underwear when she knows the pervy paps are there. I have as much sympathy for her as I do for Ms. Lohan, who is arranging photo ops at her rehab facility. Maybe I should muster some semblance of empathy for girls who have been packaged, sold and eventually discarded by the media. Get all feminist about it. They don't do that to boys, do they? No - they want to build up the girls and take them down loudly and proudly.

The uncomfortable answer to this double standard is that women are vicious to each other. I would be surprised to hear any straight male say that Britney looked fat last night. Few men have girlfriends or wives with a body like present day Britney (although, truthfully, their SO's probably have better hair, which isn't saying much), so they aren't the critics. No, it is women who bash Britney's body. I have some remarkably attractive friends and not one of them would look better in that ensemble than Britney.

Which, with consistent incomprehension, brings me to a larger point. Women haven't figured out (pun intended) who they are competing with. Not each other, unless you are on Rock of Love (which, by the way? Still awesome beyond description). We are still competing with men, to demonstrate our equal value. One need only research the glass ceiling and comparative salaries to see that. Yet for some fucked up reason, we pick our battles with our own gender and focus on the utterly banal. Hell, I am guilty of thinking, on more than one occasion, that my coworker desperately needs a lesson from the fine ladies at Nordstrom on eyeliner application. Another colleague could greatly benefit from some hairstyle tips from any competent salon in the metro area. Both of these girls can and have given me a run for my money in terms of legal writing. I am just as guilty about judging my competition on superficial bullshit stuff. In my defense, my firm has a lot of women. But the person I respect the most? My portly (being generous here) senior partner, who, when he walks into court? Is judged on the words that come out of his mouth.

The opposing counsel in the case I referenced in the last entry? Complete asshole. Fat as fuck, he waddles when he walks, and he is by no means attractive. Yet, if the case miraculously goes to trial in three weeks? I am worried about not looking LA perfect thin in a suit. So incredibly fucked up, as the other side has no case. But we judge women differently than men. Women have to be beautiful, fit, smart, funny, clever, sexy and humble. Men only need to be smart and articulate - -arrogance, even if misplaced, is a plus. I am battling him, not any woman, in this case, and I have to be batting a thousand in terms of jury perception. It pisses me off that he can be this fat fuck, unethical, mean-spirited asshole, but in order to compete, I have to be flawless, which I am not.

And it pisses me off most that I have to worry about the female jurors. Seriously, women, we need to bury the hatchet and stop killing each other off. Britney, who I sincerely and sadly believe will be dead within a few years, would have wanted it that way. If she only had a brain.