Being a Team Player

Women just don't support each other the way men do. Men have a universally understood code of loyalty and brotherhood adopted by all men. Men will cover for brothers they don't even really know. Women, hate other women.

No "I" in TEAM

I despise- absolutely despise the words whore, slut, and ho. I think it's repulsive when men use them to call out females and even more, I find it unforgivable when women use it on other to pull themselves up. I've taken those words out of my personal vernacular. But ironically, men aren't the biggest threats or offenders. When it comes to those words- women are. Tell me. What do men call each other? Players! That's right. Players! Men call each other players with rounds of high fives while women throw each other under the bus and call themselves hoes. Ladies, why do men get to be players while women get stuck being hoes? Like everything else, I got the answer to that as well. Men are TEAM players. Men root for other men. Men like it when other men succeed because some how it is intricately linked to their own success. His win is a win for them all. Women just don't get that. We enjoy it when another woman fails because that somehow measures our own success. Listen closely girls... Shockingly, we are all on the same team ladies! If she didn't sleep with YOUR man, give her props for getting under A man. If you can't support that, then keep it to YOURSELF. So what if her top doesn't fit and her outfit is incomplete- commend her for having the courage to step outside. The problem is, we like to wash down our opinions with a big o' glass of Haterade (stop shaking your head like you didn't drink from the same glass.) Get it straight. We'll all start being winners when we join the team.

Men Choose Each Other

When was the last time you saw a man rat another man out? It's not because men don't have mouths and certainly not because they don't have information. If your girl friend is cheating on your guy mate- your telling him. Women will always choose their male counter parts because they want to be the "cool chic," the "down chic". How about being the "loyal" chic? Guys will never tell you their boy is cheating on you. It doesn't matter who he knew first or for how long. He doesn't even have to know the guy. He just has to own a penis. That's the rule. End of story. They just don't disclose that kind of information. It's not proper. It's not kosher. It's not MAN. Men are loyal to each other. Maybe because men are hunters and they had to watch each other's backs before getting eaton by a mammoth. Maybe it's because women are gatherers and we were off doing our own thing, never learning the importance of having each other's backs. Whatever it is. You didn't really have to watch each other collecting berries and firewood I would imagine. Men instinctively got each other. Weren't instincts OUR thing? Stop being stupid and get your sense back!

This year, be better to your girlfriends because we have enough stress in our lives. We have enough obstacles and challenges even without the drama we give each other. Those obstacles and challenges shouldn't be other women. The word is ELEVATE. When was the last time you called a man to work out your issues? When your man screws up, understand it's your girl friend who will be up with you at 4 A.M. to talk about your "issues". She may answer the phone with an attitude, but she'll wake up real fast so you can "talk it out." She'll be the first to say "F-him. Come over. Let's take care of that." Thats just what we do. Women are kind of special that way. Let's remember that.

- Simply Emily

The Frank Installations...

I don't know exactly when I met Frank. I never was really good at remembering those kind of things. If you'd asked him, he'd sigh and say " Don't you remember? We met on... with so and so... at that place. You know, the one that Susie always went to." He's kind of brilliant that way. He remembers things because I always forget them. If one of us didn't-remember that is- then neither of us could recollect the journey of our friendship. Reflecting back, I'm still trying to figure out if that would have been a tragedy, or instead, a gift. 

I think I was about fifteen when Frank first came into my life. Wish I could say I remembered the exact date. Not that it would give it any more or less significance to the matter. But, that was the way it was with him- not distinctive moments in time, but the lingering air in every part of my memory. In every comforting corner of my mind, every sigh of relief as I exhaled, he had existed in all those parts. The details could no longer possibly matter.

Nineteen year old Frank was neither charismatic or witty, incredibly humorous or charming. Instead, he was cautious and careful, rebellious and fiercely independent. He was a recluse that found it hard to trust anyone. At fifteen, I was naive and stupid (because the two are not one of the same) who found it all too easy to befriend everyone. I was idealistic and Frank had already been weathered by the realities of life. Three jobs, a mortgage payment, and 14 hour days will do that to you. I never had known such unimaginable feat of responsibilities, but Frank, owed it all with a finesse I will never completely understand. Life is kind of unfair that way. If you'd say something to Frank he'd just laugh and say, "That's just the way things are honey." It would be cool and carefree and that would be that. 

Twenty seven year old Frank still isn't charismatic, but he has been discovered to be witty. He isn't incredibly humorous, but he makes me laugh. He is still careful and cautious, but he has lost his boyish angst. He doesn't trust everyone, but has learned to let in the important few. Twenty seven year old Frank has grown into an incredible man. Would he say the same about twenty three year old Emily? Almost a decade together we had gone from friends to lovers back to friends and at the brink of losing it all, I wish we could definitively hold onto one. But it's hard to hold onto either when your reaching for different things...

Keeping It On the Down Low

I've never really been good at keeping my life a secret. In the dating sense of things that is. I never saw the point. Nothing exciting worth keeping a secret ever happened and if it had, who wanted to keep it a secret anyways? In any case, I never really saw the point of keeping things on the "down low".

The thing about secrets are- there really are non in life. They all tend to slither out one way or another. Most of the time by the secret bearers themselves. We make exceptions. We tell our closest friends, making them promise their souls and perhaps the first of their unborn children, to keep such secrets. My question is... Who would you tell if it wasn't on the DL? Sure it would trickle down to less active participants in the end, but wouldn't one start with their closest friends? We don't really advertise information about our lives generally so DL is pretty much a lost concept to me.

Point being. DL merely means putting up a front. "Down Low" implies faking it, a dis acknowledgment if you will of truths you already know and nevertheless acting surprised when it finally "comes out." It's all a bit ironic isn't it?

So what does DL mean? DL means... I can discuss it with you, but you can't discuss it with Betty, who already knows, but also dutifully pretends not to. DL means although you do discuss it with Betty, those opinions are not relayed back to me. DL means a room full of people who all know, but pretend not to and probably don't do that very well.

So the next time you keep things on the "Down Low," take your balls (pseudo ones if need be ), a big girl/boy pill, and f*** it cause you'll probably feel screwed either way.

- Simply Emily