An Anti-Feminism Rant (Yeah, You Heard Me.)

I'm tempted to make this a weekly thing now, so that it doesn't look like I am just lazy and neglectful of my beautiful followers, who I love.
All of whom I love, because I GET TO PICK THEM NOW :D
Fuck yes.
May be appreciative of Tom FOREVER for this.
Maybe not forever.
He's a bit of a knob most of the time.
Anyway, I have now had to re-privatise my Twitter.
No, not because ludicrous Ex continues to stalk.
He may well be ATTEMPTING to stalk, but he's not getting anywhere, because I have now privatised EVERYTHING except my Bebo, which I still have because I'll then be ahead of the game when everyone goes all ironic and attempts to reclaim their childhood by rejoining it.
Or it will be considered retro.
Haven't decided yet.
Anyway, I had to re-privatise my Twitter because an entire Politics class took the piss without my even being there.
I don't even fucking take Politics.
Cheers guys.
I have also blocked a girl who tried to add me on Facebook and is following me on Twitter AND taking the piss out of both my Twitter and my blog despite the fact that I HAVE NEVER SEEN HER BEFORE IN MY LIFE.
She also has a ridiculous name.
I used to have a friend who named her cat that to be cruel.
She was a bitch too.
Tbh, five out of six of the friends that I had at the end of year 6 turned out to be psychotic bitches.
And then there was Katie.

I am re-reading, also, the memoirs of one Caitlin Moran.
She is a strident feminist.
I am re-reading her because she is entertaining and I am trying to become a better feminist.
I am FAR too easily bought with compliments.  Especially compliments from men.
Bloody men.
To be honest, and slightly controversial, I think the concept of feminism has evolved into something I don't like.
Caitlin Moran is still cool.
But what are we actually fighting about anymore?
Yes, we are still paid unequally, yes, there is still sexism in the average job, yes, we should be allowed to do EVERYTHING.  We should be able to be astronauts and politicians and rocket scientists.
But you know what we should also be allowed to be?
Housewives.
(Yes, okay, militant feminists, this is not what you want to hear. But hear me out.)
The trouble with modern feminism is that it expects us to do everything all at once.
Each individual woman must be able to change a tire, breast feed and send work emails all at the same time, whilst baking a cake and having dinner on the table for when her partner gets home.
I agree more with the concept of equality.  Yes, I think that women should be able to go out and have a career, but I also think they should be allowed to stay at home and have babies and provide a nice home environment for a man IF THAT IS WHAT SHE WANTS TO DO.
Equally, if a man wants to go out and have a career, this is fine.
He should also be allowed to stay at home and look after babies and have dinner on the table for when HIS partner gets home and not have to deal with being labelled a social deviant.  He should not be labelled as a freak or effeminate if it is more convenient or actually a more palatable choice for him to stay at home.
When I was in school, particularly infant and junior, there was ONE stay-at-home dad.  According to my ma, once my little brother started school, there were three or four.
There should be MORE OF THEM.
Staying at home and looking after children should not be frowned upon for anyone.  If you're GOING to bring a baby into this world, fucking well look after it.
I think I'm losing track of my point again.
What I'm trying to say is that the original point of feminism was that we had a choice.
The whole POINT of the suffragists and the suffragettes was that we could make our own damn decisions and not have our husbands decide on who we voted for.
Perhaps now the point of feminism should be that we aren't going to let society dictate our choices.  Because feminism is starting to backfire.
If I have babies, I fully intend upon staying at home to look after them, and writing fiction in their naptimes, and when they go off to nursery and playgroup and stuff, or letting my partner do that.
Without the writing fiction.
Whilst I do seriously respect mothers that CAN juggle ALL the stuff at once, because they seem to be super-women, not every woman can do it.  Not every man can either.
Definitely lost the point now.
Anyway.
To conclude, feminism should go back to equality and step away from female supremacy. Supremacy clearly didn't work for the men, why should it work any better for us?
Not saying that men are any better.  We are EQUAL. It's the whole bloody point.
Yeah, I completely lost it.

My week has been a bit mixed, by the by.  My cat died :(

He was cute, but really really old.
Not getting a new pet, still have Stuey, who is adorable but farts too much.
I'm going to go and watch QI now. Love for all.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A Blog In The Twelve Minutes I Have Before Work

I had gone seven days without an email from Harry.
I thought, at this point, that my asking his friend to please have a word with him had worked.
I am way too optimistic.

I honestly would have thought that sending him a text using the words "Fuck off and leave me alone" and not replying to any of his emails would have been a big enough hint.
He makes me ludicrously angry.
I got his friend to deal with it because that was a neutral party, and he was the only one who knew about the shit that had gone down, and because I NEVER ACTUALLY WANT TO TALK TO HIM AGAIN.
I am not replying to that before work.
Hell no.
If I reply to it, it will be after I get home, and after I consult Anna, Sarah and possibly also Rachel.
I honestly felt that the bit where I lost my rag with him should have been the bit where he chose to leave me alone for a little while.
NOT send me emails about his day, or about how much of a bitch I am (only this most recent one).
I am going to stop this now, and get ready for work so that I can calm down and not frighten the old ladies with my rage.
Love to all.
XXXXXXXXX

Apparently...

But first, an apology.
I abandoned you again.
My bad.  Damn busy week.
Four bits of coursework is deeply unfair.

Anyway.
Apparently, an awful lot of people read this now.
It's mildly scary.
Especially when they start following you on Twitter, adding you on FB etc.
Anyone can follow me on Twitter, I do not mind so much about the Twitter.
But I'm oddly purist about my Facebook.
I only have people on there that I like, talk to or feel like stalking.
This does not stretch to people I have never even met.
What would even be the point?
I don't even have all of my family members on Facebook.
Mostly because I swear a lot, and I am still trying to pass off that I'm all innocent and the like.
Anyway, if you're going to read the blog, do me a favour and don't be bitchy about it, or I'll get someone to teach me how to make this shit private.  Pseudonyms should NOT be carried over to real-life situations.  What's the bloody point if you know it?
There must BE a way. 

I discussed with my mother (via text, as most of our serious conversations are) what would happen if both her and Dad suddenly died.
This is not because I am plotting their demise, as my father is maintaining.
This is because Sarah got me thinking about it.
Her parents have a will.
Mine do not.
I categorically object.
Not for my sake, obviously.  I am 18 in roughly four months, and therefore can take care of myself to some degree.  I can just about work a washing machine, I know what bacon looks like when it is cooked (should be pink, opaque, and (in my opinion) should be a bit burnt so that it's all salty and yum), I can iron and do general housewifey things, I can get myself out of the house in the morning etc.
I am concerned for my brother.
He is 12.
Thinking about it, had they had some kind of horrific accident in previous years, we'd have been fucked.
Having discussed it with my mother, the apparent plan was that we go to my auntie and uncle who live about an hour away.
Uhm, no.
I love them dearly, I do, but they have two kids of their own, and my brother is on the Autistic Spectrum.
I can see, obviously, that this was the best plan up until now, as we couldn't jolly well have been left on our own to cope, and if they were in a horrific accident, we were going to take on my cousins in the same way.
I don't like it, though.
Not now I am very nearly almost a grown up (gulp).
In four months time, I can legally look after him for myself, I think.
And I would much prefer this.
The mortgage on the house is now paid off, so we wouldn't have to worry about that, Boo would not have to leave the house he grew up in, we'd be closer to Grannie, he wouldn't have to leave his only friend, and it would just be easier.  I know him. I know what he's like.  I can cook a meal he will eat with few complaints.
Boo is pleased by the concept of me keeping him.
He has requested that I mix tuna with salad cream.
This, amusingly, is his only condition.
I have requested that he not leave Lego all over the floor, or failing this, leave it all over the floor in only one room that I do not have to go into.
Think we will get along fine if our parents die.
Which I do hope they won't.
I do actually like them.
It makes me feel better, however, that I now have a plan for if they do suddenly die.
Having had my future plan sodded up by the ex dumping me and the college telling me I shouldn't be a teacher, I like having SOME kind of plan.
Even if it is purely hypothetical and won't ever be needed.
It's just nice that it's there.

I'm going to make this blog private.  Over opinionated, fat-head females who can't seem to separate what CAN be said in front of everyone at college and what CANNOT be said in front of everyone at college make my life difficult.
Or, indeed, what is Devil's advocation and what is just being contradictory.
Stupid bitches.

This a mouse Erin drew on her work in History (hence the Mein Kampf reference).  I actually love it.
I'm going to leave you with this now, with a promise that I will blog more as my coursework load lessens.
This is not going to be soon.
3 pieces for Film, two for English, two for History.
Only one of these is finished to any degree.
Ergh.
All my loves, as ever XXXXXXXX