The Honeymoon is Over!

In every relationship, there's a "honeymoon" period. You're madly in love, they're perfect and the sex is mindblowing. But then the pigeon slams into the window and it shatters. Suddenly you'reacutely aware of their snoring, nagging voice and morning breath.

This week I learnt that adulthood has its own Honeymoon period. You start out fresh out of home- Centrelink and Mummy have your back! Pay Day is Pub Day and any money you earn is immediately spent on hipster tees, a gym membership and Chai lattes (The 2014 West End version of Sex, Drugs and Rock and Roll).

In the space of 3 days Centrelink axed my Healthcare Card, my car faltered for unknown reasons (leading me to quickly realise that "Boyfriend" is not Australian slang for "Taxi") and Mummy just couldn't save me this time.

There's no easy way to say it: Adulthood sucks! Working your ass off all week and then realising you have a choice between eating or medication isn't fun, nor is never having enough time for your loved ones or having to figure out tax returns.

Yet the thing is. I still wouldn't change a thing. Being an adult is exhausting and so overrated but in a way it's fun. Remember being a kid and playing "Grown ups"? No, not every day is like that, but God it's fun when it is! When I go to work for a week and come home to Reese having made me dinner, or sitting around for hours drinking wine with Merida - and subsequently challenging every fictional best friend relationship in history. It's well worth it for that!

     (Also when you make your bedroom look like an Ikea catalogue)

Woo Hoo *Bitchy Woman

Being a woman is a bitch!

I swear if I hear one more man complain about PMS or hear the phrase "Damn it woman". I'll become a lesbian just to troll you all. 

Being a woman isn't fun! Whilst I'm sure the male gender comes with your own problems. I'm yet to hear you fella's being teased about your emotions- the closest you get to that is the accusation that you have the emotional range of a teaspoon. 

Well, Why is being a woman such a bitch I hear you sarcastically ask. 

Let me break it down for you. Work, Body and ultimately - Society

Work

Can we please stop pretending that women aren't cut out for man's jobs? Or that there's even such a thing as a "man" or "woman's" job. I work in a physically demanding retail job. My boss and A.M are women and I promise you - we all work just as hard as any of our male coworkers. I'm lucky to work for a company that values equality- but damn I feel sorry for my sisters on salary who earn 70c to every man's $1. Is it worth mentioning that because of the laws around paid maternity, we're likely working harder than our male counterparts to make ends meat in some circumstances? 

To be clear- This our CURRENT Minister for Education 

Body

 If I hear one more word about 'empowering women' or 'body image' I'm going to burn and sacrifice my designer Zara dress........

Ok now I have your attention.....ladies and fashion conscious men. When I started this blog I vowed to be both brutally honest and cynical. I may have been away for a while but I'm back and tonight will be writing about something I'm truly passionate about- No it isn't wine- although that does explain my recent emplo.........Anyway. 

So there's a few things I take issue with here. But it all comes down to this

CAN WE PLEASE STOP CALLING CURVY WOMEN REAL WOMEN.........

Seriously!!!
A while ago I got into a discussion on social media with several young women on the topic of shaming women for different body sizes. 

As pointed out by S, 25 "Whether you're too large, or too small- just because you don't fit into societies norms  means you're fair game for anyone to have a crack at" (Read more: Like Seriously?)

 I find it disturbing that as a weird twist of 'protest' against the media culture of skinny models,  common society has started to shame skinny girls and praise curves. Get into a dictionary (No you may NOT cheat and Google it) and look up the definitions of "Real" and "Woman" I think you'll find that the only definition available is a human identifying as female. 

WHY THE HELL AM I RUNNING?????

When I was 12, puberty hit and I had firmly decided that, unlike my classmates, there was no point in running unless my life was in danger- pretty reasonable logic right? It wasn't apparently or at least not until 9 years later when Tracey Spicer got up the gall to tell it like it is. The Lady Stripped Bare

My next point on the topic of "Body". Our bodies take a beating- not only do we get the fun of childbirth but also the parasitic accomplice of PMS and menstruation.

Now while you guys are happily joking about your bitch being on the rags or yelling "Shut up woman" over our hormonal outbursts, we're battling a physical condition that is clearly an evolutionary joke.

 As any loving father of daughters or emotionally in tune boyfriend will tell you- We are NOT having fun when we're clutching our uterus's and going through more emotions than Melbourne does weather in 30mins. So if we have the decency to not publicly mock your weird obsessions with boobs-  which by the way hurt, ooze, grow weird hairs and hate the booby prisons known as bra's, can you please shut up about our emotions?

                                                            Pretty much actually

Society

I know this girl called *Aleisha. She's one of the sassiest, most gorgeous women I've ever met and I'm proud to call her one of my best friends. To me she's just Aleisha- defined only by herself. But to so many others she's still defined by the fact she used to be *Stephen. Aleisha is an inspiration, because despite the fact it's the 21st century- she still battles against a society that condemns transgender people and sometimes seems hell bent on reverting back to the time before human rights or feminism itself.

Dear Society,

I don't care if you're male, female, conservative or a freaking squirrel. Can you please stop making it so damn hard for my gender.

CAN YOU PLEASE STOP WISHLIST

Making clothes shopping a trauma
Ruining our self-esteem and body confidence
Calling sexually liberated women Sluts and Whores
Putting stupid taxes on tampons
Discriminating against transgender and Bi people - No I'm not fucking "confused"
Mocking lesbians
Thinking all feminists hate men and we're just a hoard of angry vagina's
Judging us because of OUR choices about OUR lives - I'm looking at you anti-abortionists
Sending us mixed messages resulting in this ( Apparently we don't need feminism? )
Giving us crap if we're brave enough to speak up against anything

And FINALLY.................

Pissing us off to the point where we find it necessary to write posts like this in the first place!

It's August 2014 and I'm off to research entering a law degree

Losing yourself

It's raining, and rain makes me think. I have tea and an hour before I need to leave for work. This piece has been a work in the making of several months- So forgive the apparent lack of continuity. The thing is though- I don't make sense and that's whats so delightfully wonderful about me.

When I started writing this post, it began as a forced process to "prove a point" and ultimately ignore a now glaringly obvious point about my life. I'm hesitant to write this because of both my love of denial and tendency to have 'startling revelations' that result in intense face-palming and no action being taken. This is a relatively poignant moment for me though and it seems foolish to waste an opportunity to write.


 I've been absent for a few months and - despite the fact my readership probably consists of my parents best friend, I figured I owed it to you guys to get out of bed and bring my snarky cynicism back to the page.

I suppose part of the reason is because the last few months I feel like I havent had a voice- insert shield against feminist uproar/ accusation about having a patriarchal boyfriend here.

 My life has taken on a blissful level of boring, a world where my biggest whinge is that there's new species of mould growing in my housemates crockery- really wish I was kidding about that. It's not that I don't read feminist articles and rage over politics anymore, but rather I know that that's not going to pay my rent.....yet anyway.

Somehow in 4 months I've become an adult. Apparently that doesn't happen overnight, I call bullshit. I blame a few things, primarily my first 'adult relationship' and becoming totally financially independent - which I still think are seriously overrated by the way.

So I got a permanent part time job and within a week realized two major things. Firstly that retail is not an easy job and secondly? No wonder my parents are always so tired!.  Suddenly I LEGITMATELY  need to do my laundry, really really badly; end up looking at my pay check each week with a "I worked THAT hard for THIS", let alone my serious envy of people who get normal weekends. I love my job, and on a recent holiday-  I swear I started twitching after 4 days without it.

The other night we talked. Of the many things said and debated that night the one thing that truly smacked me in the fact was "You act like a 1950's conservative house wife", It came fast and furious. How had the once vivacious, independent and proudly feminist Cara  given way to what I'm pretty sure is Tony Abbott and Chris Pyne's ideal 'woman'. I had surrendered my voice, become dependent on a man and was insisting on doing the domestic chores constantly because "I'm a woman".

That night I made a promise to myself that the rule book went out the window- and it kind of has. This week a comedic hero died and my role model marriage fell apart. Nothing in life makes sense or is serious. It's so easy to get caught up in the hum drum of work, relationships and even depression. There is no startling revelations and no one is invincible. I'm violently against the taxes put on tampons and to hell with being a Stepford Wife.

There is so much I want to say and ask, and even with my lack of life skills. I really want to know how the hell you deal with a stray possum in the work place.

My house is a mess, and this week I was bitten by a crab the size of my thumbnail.

(Attempting to be a 1950's housewife)