Hoochiemumma

Personal Blog

Category: Raging Ranty Pants

It’s a dick punchy kind of day.

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I am furious. Filled with rage and ready to punch some dicks.


Fuck you selfish bastard men with your stupid big dick energy and the backing of other bastard men. You wanna know why women get so angry and are then hated even more? There are a million reasons, mainly starting with you. Men. Yeah, that’s right. But not all men. Let me explain.


There was once a girl who fell in love. It was a beautiful love story until it wasn’t. Like almost half of the marriages in Australia, it ended.


And here is where the story gets ugly because here is where money talks. Power, money, and big dick energy. The patriarchy at its best, throwing around the idea that women who have taken on a more traditional role in the family aren’t worth much money, so when it comes to a settlement, don’t you be thinking you’re getting much, cause it’s not yours it’s HIS. He does all the work after all, who do you think you are?


Here’s where it gets tricky right?


The unpaid labour of raising multiple children, therefore having the capacity to only work part-time is just, well, according to some, tough tits … you chose it. And how about the role of supporting said husband who works full time – plus some, essentially tipping the parenting tasks 80-20 her way? According to some, that’s what you signed up for. You knew what you were getting into when you got married – tough tits love. What about taking a role within the business? Well that’s just simply being supportive of your husband and you SHOULD do something to be part of what keeps the food on the table, otherwise, you’re just a selfish bitch. Doesn’t matter if the business isn’t of interest to you though. Tough tits love. You knew the gig. Don’t be thinking you can just change your mind either. Suck it up.


You may wonder who I am referring to as I write this. I am referring to me, you, and EVERY WOMAN who finds herself, either by choice or not, in a position where they are financially disadvantaged because they took on a role HER HUSBAND NEEDED AND WAS HAPPY FOR HER TO HAVE because it served his purpose and his own gain.


So what’s the answer? It’s been a question on everyone’s lips for decades.


How do women gain more currency and value in our society? Sure, we’ve come a long way since being burnt at the stake, but some days, in rural Australia, it doesn’t feel all that long ago.


As usual, the responsibility is thrown back in women’s faces. How many times have we read about “raising good men”? I agree with this statement, but again, the majority of children’s main carers are mothers which means it’s another job we have on the list filed under ‘unpaid tasks’. Sure, just pop down “smash the patriarchy” on the note pad darl – I’ll sort it out in between the grocery shopping and dropping the kids at sports practice.


Until there is a major shift in valuing the role that women have in holding this whole shit show together, we will forever be belting our heads against a brick wall. I’d love to point out to some men who just don’t get it, that most of us worked full-time and had jobs, careers, and a life before we married and took on the role of raising a family, supporting a partner, and doing all the ‘unpaid’ tasks that we have gifted our partners to not even have to THINK about, let alone do. So let me tell you something, going to work every day, working full time, working overtime and weekends, is far easier than doing the unpaid tasks that keep the world turning. Most women agree that the most challenging role in their life has been mothering. Mothering YOUR children, mothering YOUR future, mothering THE WHOLE FUCKING WORLD’S FUTURE.


So how do you put a monetary value on something that means the world? It’s a difficult task. Any figure is quite frankly an insult. We all know the world would fall apart if it wasn’t for the unpaid labour of women. I balk at the idea that we need to infiltrate “the man’s world and show them we are just as good”. We’ve been fucking glorious forever. We don’t need to change who we are or pressure ourselves or our daughters to be something ‘other’ so that we can be equal. We need all the same opportunities and choices that men have but what we NEED is to have those choices valued if they happen to fall into a more traditional role.


On that note, I’ll just be over here holding the world together… what do you do?


M



	


	





	

		
Oi Bludger
		

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I saw this posted on Facebook recently and it got me thinking about how I feel about it. I don’t know the author but it’s been shared a bunch of times and clearly people have strong feelings about it. 










My views on things have definitely changed as I’ve gotten older. I’ve learnt that there are a lot more “grey” answers than “black and white” ones, especially when dealing with humans. At the same time, “I get it”. I’m not as passionately angry about it as this dude, but “I get it”. I don’t like my tax paying money going towards “bludgers” either.





Mind you, who is this guy anyway to categorise and determine “bludger” status?





Is he the President of the Bludger Society?





Like most of us I’ve been guilty of making judgement calls only to discover later that what I saw from the outside wasn’t the reality. I remember wondering why the lady who seems totally fine doesn’t have a job or even volunteer? I later discovered that she has a serious mental illness that she doesn’t have displayed on her forehead for everyone to see. Just getting her kids ready for school while ignoring the auditory hallucinations would be a task in itself. For those who wouldn’t know that, I rekon she would be seen as a “bludger”.





I accept that in the world in which we live there are arseholes. People can simply be arseholes. Does it mean we (as a society) have to be arseholes too? I don’t think so.





Thankfully we have developed into a civilised society where we no longer behead people or burn them at the stake for being less than an ideal human. We instead house them in jails and provide them a basic living wage to survive. It’s says more about us than them.





This doesn’t take away from the fact that people have to take personal responsibility for their lives and there will always be the whingers of the world who can’t get out of their own way.





If there’s one thing I can guarantee the people who feel ripped off by those who have been on long term unemployment benefits is that they’re not living on easy street. They’ll probably never go on an overseas holiday, they’ll never have status in their community; they’ll probably never own a home let alone one in a decent suburb and they’ll have to drive a bomb of a car that breaks down regularly. They won’t be able to buy their kids the gifts they want at Christmas time and they’ll second guess calling an ambulance because they don’t have cover. And just for good measure, they will be reminded of their status within their community on a regular basis. Don’t worry, most feel shit about themselves even if it appears from the outside they are kicking back without a care in the world. Reminder: Defensive behaviour is people trying to protect themselves.





However, I agree that people should be trying to do “something” to work their way towards employment, self improvement or being an active member of the community.





It’s not so much the problem at hand I disagree with but the solutions suggested.





This is a nuanced problem which needs a nuanced response.





Sentences like…





“Don’t earn enough money? Get another job” or “educate yourself” is as helpful as telling a person with depression to “just smile”.





It can end up being a perpetual self feeding problem. Without a leg up to get a leg out a lot of people can find themselves trapped inside the mouse wheel.





Plus, the idea of passing a drug test to get benefits is ludicrous. The argument above indicates that he thinks the majority of people on unemployment benefits are using drugs, so let’s cost that out shall we? The money saved from “catching” the drug users on Centrelink would surely negate the cost it would incur to test them all.





And if that rule came into play, who would do the testing? Centrelink personnel? Employment consultants? (umm. No thanks)





Would all people receiving unemployment benefits have to make a doctor’s appt every fortnight and take away appointment times from sick people? What about those on disability pensions or aged care pensions who are drug dependent.. do we cut them off too? Or is it ok for them to use tax payers money for their drug of choice but not for the unemployed. Maybe drug testing is only for the ones that are in the “bludger” category, not the ones who are just “normal” unemployed people. *Refer to the Bludger Society President above.





If their payment is cut off what would they have to do to get it back again?





Do they have to do another test in a couple days and they’re good to go?





What about people who will continually fail to pass these tests because they’re addicts? What then? Where do they go? (Besides the obvious-rehab where it’s often more than one attempt to be on the road to recovery). Under this rule they would have no money to pay their rent or buy food. What would you do if you had no money to pay rent and buy food?





Logic says some people would turn to crime and we would see the crime rate rise. In turn, this would put extra pressure on the legal system as well as having more people with a criminal conviction which would make it even harder to get employment . People could become homeless and displaced (another negative for employment). To top it off their children could end up being taken away into foster care, a system which is already struggling. So all in all it could mean that the cost for the taxpayer would increase.





So what’s the answer? I don’t bloody know… I write a blog for a hobby for God’s sake, what would I know?





What I do know is that a punitive response isn’t always the best way. And just as a side note, if you think it’s only “bludgers” who take drugs, think again my friends. It’s rife and apparently quite cool to snort a bit of Charlie on the weekend by apparently “well respected community people”.





There are a million different reasons which need a million different solutions to this complex social issue. The problems I can see include a struggling health system, drug culture, housing affordability, education, generational unemployment, parenting skills, the increase in mental health issues. The answer is not as simple as “get a job”. I wish it was.





In my confusion and internal debate about where I sit with this, I have come to the conclusion that I simply feel empathy for arseholes too, and I’m not sad about that. After all, I doubt the homeless guy I slipped a fiver to the other day dreamt as a little boy that he would be sitting outside of a shopping centre begging for money. He probably wanted to be a Fireman or a AFL footballer.





I’m not religious, but “there for grace of God go I”.





M

	


	





	

		
I Am Woman… Hear me Roar (and complain).
		

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I overheard a conversation a few months ago. It was about someone looking to hire a mechanic. 





“Would you hire a female mechanic?” 60 something-year-old man asked a similar-aged woman. 





“Yes,” she replied. 





Her response was quickly retorted by 60 something-year-old man with “really?” as he screwed up his nose. 





60 something-year-old man (who will now be referred to as Dickbrain) then continued to say that he knew of a girl who might be looking for some work. She “was fully qualified and EVERYTHING”. Dickbrain sounded shocked that a mere female could pass successfully. He then continued to describe WHAT SHE LOOKED LIKE. Cause I’m sure mechanics relies heavily on one’s appearance.





People like Dickbrain make me shitty. 





I understand that Dickbrain was probably brought up in a different era, has different values, and probably didn’t “mean anything” by his comments and facial expressions but why are these comments still made? Why is it so shocking that a female can fix cars? Didn’t he watch Neighbours back in the 80’s? Just make a reference to Charlene being a mechanic like normal people and move on with your day. 





This is the perfect example of why feminism is so important and why I am cranky with myself for not being braver and speaking up. However, like most keyboard warriors I’d rather get opinionated and mouthy from the comfort of my laptop and flanny Jim Jams thankyou very much. 





I think the word feminism can be a dirty word for some people. It can somehow be divisive when at its core, it’s trying to be the opposite. 





Is it because of the stereotype of a feminist? Do you conjur up images of a bitter and twisted old lesbian man-hater? Or maybe a woman who is outspoken? Perhaps it’s a career-driven woman? Or a grumpy bitch in her mid forties with nothing better to do than rant away on her sub-par blog.





Wait, what? 





Sure…. all of these people might be feminists but here’s a news flash. Men can be feminists too. It’s not an exclusive club for just those with two X chromosomes. We can’t find equality with only half of the population being engaged. So what are “feminists” banging on about. 





The definition of feminism according to the Merriam Webster dictionary is:  





Definition of feminism





1 : the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes





2 : organized activity on behalf of women’s rights and interests





Pretty simple. Equality. Not too much to ask is it?





Apparently it is. And in the words of my 8 year old who has been asked to unpack the dishwasher… WHHHYYYYYYYYYYYY? 





I don’t get why it’s taking so long. I don’t get why the most powerful man in the world is a raving sexist lunatic and gets away with it. There’s so much I can’t make sense of. I also don’t understand some of the chauvinistic blah on a Facebook page I follow. (Yeah, I know…. press “unfollow”). I don’t know who runs this page… maybe Dickbrain does? It’s embarrassingly out of touch and disappointing that the people who enjoy chasing little white balls are obviously ok with chauvinism masked as humour and wit. It’s just keeping typical old men’s attitudes alive and thriving. Sad but true. 





Also… I got a notice in my post box about anti-abortion hoo-har? Please let’s not have to fight for that right again. 😩





Anyway… I shall trot my high horse back into the stables now as I hum the iconic feminist anthem. Your song, Helen Reddy, which is older than me, has inspired thousands. It seems it will take thousands of years, if ever, for the roar to be really heard.  





As Molly Meldrum would say… “do yaself a favour”. Turn up the volume and sing the song ladies….










Yours in bra burning goodness 





M

	


	





	

		
Farewell Winter… 😔
		

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Welp… that’d be 35 years in a row now that I forgot to get “Bikini Bod Ready” for summer. Just gonna call it a day on that one I rekon and perhaps tweak my social media feeds so I never read THAT phrase again. #fuckoffinstagraminfluencers 


Admittedly, like most women, whether you’re skinny or fat, short, or tall; potato shaped or carrot shaped; big boobs, no boobs; fadoobalas, or twiggy arms, we all have some kind of existential wardrobe crisis when the weather starts to change. I had one the other day because it was 30 degrees and I forgot how to dress myself. 


I know I’m not alone here….we all stare at our wardrobe full of clothes wondering what the hell we wore last year? I tell you what I wore…. about the same 5 outfits on rotation and all the other crap hanging up is classified into groups of “might wear that again one day”, “might fit into that again one day”, “I love that dress I go nowhere to wear” and “I paid a shit tonne for that so I can’t possibly throw it away even though I’ll never wear it again”. 



The pressure to “get ready for summer” was lost on me years ago. I’m not ever summer ready. I live in denial that it will come. Summer doesn’t like me and I don’t like summer. I’m not from these parts. I’m a decendant of Irish and Scottish folk. I think there’s German in there too somewhere and perhaps part vampire because I react to the blaring sun in quite a similar fashion. 



Please summer… stay away. Besides the killer magpies, Spring is fine. Let’s leave it there shall we? Who needs summer? There’s so much not to like. Plus, the thought of having to consider shaving the 6 inches of leg I show in public is just too much right now. After all I only shave my legs for the lady who does my pedicure and when it’s sheet change day, neither of which hap­pens often enough. 

For all you summer loving people, enjoy the impending warmer weather and time in the sun… for it will end and the world will be as it should be once more. Overcast and under 25 degrees. 



M

	


	





	

		
Just Call Me Karen
		

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I think I got talked about by the nursing staff at hand-over. I rekon theres a high chance I may have been referred to as a “Karen”. 






Well, buckle up. I’m a Melissa.






Here’s a bit of a back story and update: 






We’re heading into week 3 with number one son in hospital. Usually it’s a stock standard 2 weeks of IV’s… bug dead.. see ya later. Didn’t quite happen this time. Anyway… he has an inhaled med he does with his chest physio, and because it can cause a bit of lung irritation, it’s being diluted to half strength… all within the orders written up by the Dr etc etc blah blah. 






Time comes to have this medication. I remind the nurse that he’s having it half strength. 
Nurse returns telling me he’s been having it full strength, because that’s what’s been signed off on the drug chart so that’s what she’s brought in.





She told me this THREE times, because each time I corrected her, her ears must have imploded and she couldn’t hear what I said. 






I reiterated my point AGAIN and politely but assertively suggested that it may have been signed off incorrectly on the drug chart by the physios and can we just have it mixed the way I’ve asked….please and thankyou very much, for fucks sake, Amen. 






Now this is where I shall intervene and just hit up anyone who is embarking upon a career in the health or caring industry. 






LISTEN TO YOUR PATIENT’S. For the love of god, even if you think they’re complete cretins and dumb as a bricks….listen to them. 






They’re not always going to be right, but the chances are that when you question those who live with chronic illness, they probably know what they’re talking about. I might even be so brave as to say that the PARENTS of children with chronic illness know more about their disease than you, and sure as hell know what the fuck is going on in the room of which you weren’t present when the bloody mediation had been given. 






Gah. 






I don’t think in anyway that my exchange was aggressive or rude, I just had to repeat myself until she actually listened, and by the third time, I may have had a tone in my voice that resembled “Karen wanting to see the manager”. 






Also, I was tired, so I wasn’t my usual delightful self. After all, I’d been sleeping on a bed the devil himself designed and quite frankly, since I’ve hit my 4th decade, the idea of making others a bit uncomfortable doesn’t destroy my thoughts or conscience  as it once did. I’m over pleasing people who aren’t pleasant. It’s exhausting. 






What was interesting was that the next morning the day staff mentioned something about the conversation slash exchange I’d had with the nurse the day before. This nurse was older, more experienced and appeared supportive. She empathised about how she is aware that parents know what’s going on with their children’s health blah blah blah…but during our chat she used words and phrases like “argument”, “good for you”, “tiger mum” and “speaking out”. 





Ummmm….What!? 






And what exactly is a tiger mum..? 






I asked the Google machine and this is what it said.











I’m confused because I’m obviously not Chinese and I don’t know Amy Chau so I think she meant being a mum “like a tiger”. 












This is much more accurate, plus the father reference is much more relatable too… 






Please bare with me while I pull up my feminist knickers here as I ask… 






What is the male equivalent of a “tiger mum”?
Who is the male equivalent of “Karen”?
And why are women seen as difficult, argumentative or speaking out of turn when they make others uncomfortable or question something or god forbid….disagree? 






I may be wrong, but think I can pretty safely say that if I had a dangly thing between my legs and was in the same situation, I wouldn’t be seen or described in the same way.  I’d probably be seen as confident, strong, knowledgeable and interested. We don’t use these words for women enough. We assert them to be difficult, bitchy, sassy, opinionated and up-themselves. 





Plus our names get changed to Karen. 





Well I love Karen’s. I know a few awesome ones too. 






I think we should all find our inner Karen, and I mean that in the most wonderful way possible. We should demand more than the bull shit we’ve been dished up over the generations. 





Question the nurse. Speak to the manager. Ask for more information. Disagree. Speak up without fear of how is “looks” or “sounds”. Assert your point when you’re not being listened to. Don’t be afraid to cause someone just a little bit of discomfort. 





It’s taken me over 40 years to be okay with the idea that I may offend someone or cause an eyebrow raise by just asking a question and that it’s NOT MY PROBLEM. 






Fair chance the people we make uncomfortable are under 25 years old who think they know everything there is to know, can’t differentiate between you’re and your and lack the ability to count back change without a calculator. How’s that for stereotyping? 






Their time will come though. They’ll hit their 40’s and feel the freedom of age and wisdom. They’ll want to talk to the manager and ruffle a few feathers because they’re old and sick of everyone’s shit. They’ll do this and look back remembering the Karen’s of yesteryear. They may even smile, shake their head with a knowledge that they have now become the Karens they eye rolled in their  twenties. They will embrace this change and their new found title.






Without further adieu,  I present to you the “Jessica’s”






And in 20 years time, they’d like to see the manager. 






M





*disclaimer.. I adore nurses. They do one of the hardest job in the world and don’t get paid nearly enough for what they do. I was a nurse for a while too, and this is definitely #notallnurses 

	


	





	

		
Social spring clean. An irrational rant.
		

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Look, I don’t want to offend anybody, but for the love of god please save me from the workout posts that I see. And food. Stop the food posts. Unless it’s sharing a delicious recipe, or an even better restaurant… just SHUT UP AND STOP IT.


There, I’ve said it.


And I ain’t the first.


Don’t get me wrong though. Running a marathon? You post that shit everywhere and I’ll cheer you over the line. Hit a PB in anything from lifting weights to swimming an extra lap or walking that extra km… post on my friend. But seriously… what’s with the daily bullshit conceited elitist crap of “look at me, I wear expensive workout shit and talk fancy workout talk while in my overpriced sneakers and I’m so cool and you’re so not cool and please like my selfie where I do boring things that a lot of people do all the time.”


Honestly, it’s as interesting as someone posting about cleaning their house.


Everyone does it, some ignore it for long periods of times, some are daily cleaners, some are weekly cleaners, some are obsessed about it, some do a better job than others, some make a living out of it and some even hire it out and don’t do it at all. Ugh.


I’ve questioned where this rage against the workout machine has come from.  Am I envious? Am I triggered because I’m unfit? Am I insecure? Am I just a bitch? Am I old and sick of everyone’s crap? Is it hormones? Maybe it’s Maybelline? I dunno, but it shits me off more than the British chick on the home shopping channel selling Thin Lizzy concealer….We get it Suzanne…It’s magic in a tube.


And then I realised that I just need to get more savvy with my social media feed and press “unfollow” and not be such a jerk. No one is making me watch this crap except me. So I had a little clean up and wouldn’t you know it, just like a good spring clean, it feels glorious!


With that being said, I might throw on my Kmart tights with my husbands old t-shirt, waddle down the road while escaping death from the dive bombing maggie’s and clear my cranky mind. Or I might not. You will NEVER KNOW.


Have I just done an exercise post?


Would that be irony or hypocrisy you reckon?


Rant over. As you were people.


M



	


	





	

		
Just Jokin’ Love
		

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I found myself arguing with idiots on the internet. I know… WTF was I thinking? I turned into this sour puss.


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It was kinda fun for a minute until it was just pointless. I was on the South Aussie with Cosi page pointing out that he is a nice bloke but misses the mark when it comes to living in the 21st century with some of the things he posts. He made a dumb joke about the winner of a competition for show tickets, who happened to have the last name Hore. Anyway… I stated the obvious bad taste but his supporters, who were mostly male, lined up to point out that “it’s a joke”.. “lighten up” blah blah blah.


Well…. I say NO NO NO. I won’t lighten up. I was on the tail end of Psycho Sunday and was a bit pissed at the kids so wrote something about the women I know who have sported this name would more than likely want to rip him a new arsehole and shove the winning tickets up there while they were at it. Harshly poetic, and gross, but fairly accurate I would envisage.


In hindsight it probably wasn’t the best time to jump on social media and find some adults to argue with who are more ignorant than the kids.


However…..


Living in the country and being a woman of my generation this stuff used to be EVERYWHERE. It didn’t occur to me to mind in my younger years. It was something we just dealt with. We copped it on the chin, cause “it’s just a joke love”.


Like many women, I have spent most of my life laughing off lame sexist jokes, excusing misogynist remarks, and not making waves or speaking up when my blood would boil listening to bogan idiots be sexist twats all for the sake of a joke.


I’ve overheard the “geez I’d like a piece of that arse”’comments from the 40 something year old married man, ogling over the 18year old girl.  I’ve also listened on and even laughed nervously as men “jokingly” put their wives down to somehow try and appear more manly.


God forbid I should speak up and cause a man to feel uncomfortable and offend them if I pointed this out. So I didn’t. But I do now.


There is definitely a shift toward positive change and there are some wonderful men out there just being, you know, normal decent humans. But there’s still the old bangers who think the women speaking up are just whingers who are easily offended. We’re man haters and feminists who don’t shave our armpits. We’re bitches because we speak our minds and won’t take shit from men who should know better. Or men who should at least apologise when it’s pointed out, rather than turn it around and tell us to “lighten up” and get over ourselves.


Sadly, some of these men are raising children and have a wife who has to swallow that shit every day.


Mr Hooch has at times pointed out that perhaps I’m a bit harsh or “full on” when it comes to this, and I can see his point. Maybe I hit the dickhead alert button a bit quickly. No one is perfect. We all make mistakes and we’re sometimes the result of the generation of which we were raised. But when you know better…don’t you try and do better? Luckily I married a good one who has an open mind and can see my point of view. It’s the good men that need to speak up and pull the reigns in on the misguided ones who think that this stuff is still OK – it just “what blokes do”. However, getting that to happen is a whole new battle that is as deep as it is wide.


In saying all of this, I’m all for a good joke. I love nothing more than clever humour, but not when it crosses a line. It’s a blurry line, because some of the best humour comes when it’s teetering on it’s edge. I just can’t find the funny when it comes to belittling others or being obviously offensive, especially to the already marginalised.


And yeah… in 2019 women are still marginalised.


Bet our sisters who burnt their bras in the 60’s are pissed off.


So I have declared that there will be no more ranty commenting from me on social media.


Well… not until the next Psycho Sunday hits anyway.


M