Category Archives: Sexism

Once More Into the Breech

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I did get a tiny bit of backlash from yesterday’s post. Surprise, surprise! Woman speaks her mind online and people give her shit.

But neither of them gave me the “special snowflake” or “suck it up, buttercup” reply. One made no damn sense whatsoever so, meh. The other…called me pathetic for tearing up, and said I should brace up and stop thinking that my preferences should control the world.

Okey dokey then. This is quite similar to many pro-Trump memes I’ve seen. The ones that say ‘you lost, get over it’ or ‘deal with it’, or call us snowflakes or whiners or sore losers. 

Those posts have annoyed me, but it was only today that I started to think about why it is that they annoy me.

It bothers me because I’m a grown-ass adult and I’m not ‘throwing a temper tantrum.’ I know dammed well that things aren’t going to go my way! I learned that shit in 3rd grade. I also was unhappy with Bush Jr being elected twice. Yep, I “lost” then, too! The horror! 

Why didn’t people call me a special snowflake then? I did dislike him, yes. I didn’t trust him, yes. I felt he was a puppet, yes. But damn, I never felt about Bush like I do about Trump.

I’m not upset about “losing.” That is ridiculous. This isn’t just another damn reality TV show, it is dammed important

I spent a lot of time yesterday in my post, trying to list my reasons why. Personal, emotional, global.

But yet, I’m still labelled as a sore loser. 

No, honey. Again, I’m a fucking adult, finally, and I don’t whine when things ‘don’t go my way.’ I listed my reasons yesterday. But the thing is…the thing is…this is not a game. This is real. Your idea that I’m only upset because I lost speaks more about you than me. You thought it was a competition. A game. No, honey. This is no game. It’s not Risk or Monopoly, no matter how much it might feel like it to those with all the right cards.

When it is a game, I don’t give a fuck who wins or loses, as I, unlike the people spreading the sore loser idea, like the interaction and fun – yes fun! – that makes it a game.

To compare my factually backed up worries about Trump, shared by millions of others, to a game that we lost and you won not only belittles our sincere worries, but shows how very little you take the ideas and thoughts and worries of others seriously.

I wish I could condense this down into a tl:dr quote. Any help with this is welcome. I am still having trouble putting into words why this attitude is so wrong.

A Draining Morning

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Do you ever have so much going on that you want to share that you shut down entirely and say nothing? That’s been me, lately. I don’t know where to start so I … haven’t started. But there’s one thing I want to talk about, and I’ve been holding off because I don’t want to accidentally offend anyone. I’ve been put in that position recently on the blog, and now I have to write with my tiptoes. As you can imagine, those contortions aren’t comfortable.

A not-funny thing happened, that led to something funny, that led to a not-funny thing. I feel a rant of sorts coming on…

There was a clog in our big outside drain pipe. It was my fault. So of course I should be the one to fix it.

I have a plumbing snake, but it was too short to reach the clog. Being creative and not willing to either give up or pay someone, I electrical-taped an old shower hose to the snake, as an extension. It was still too short! So I electrical-taped a new shower hose to the old shower hose that was taped to the snake. Good thing I keep things like two unused shower hoses, eh? You just never know when random junk around the house might come in handy! Hoarder? Naw, just prepared for any eventuality. I choose to believe that. Nahnahnah I can’t hear you, Socks…

In any case, in the process of being shoulder deep in a big drain pipe, I got shit-water on me. I got it on my arms, on my hands (despite the gloves I changed about nine times in the course of my work), on my pants, on my shirt, and on my FACE. Yeppers: Poo-soup, on my face.

That’s funny, to me. I rather deserved poop all over me: I caused the problem. How, I will not detail. It was an attempt to save myself work that backfired badly. If it got in my eyes or mouth – maybe not so funny!

What really isn’t funny: someone saw me doing the work and asked about it. After I explained I was told, ‘That’s a man’s job. You tell your husband I said so!’

It wasn’t even physically challenging, unless you count kneeling on concrete for ages (ow). I didn’t explain why it was me doing the job beyond the simple answer that I’m plain-old-better at this sort of job. Hubby and I each have our talents, and this is one of mine, such as it is. I can deal with poop-soup on my face and clothes way better than he, and I deal with the frustrations of how long it takes to clear a big clog more calmly, too.

This is not to say that I don’t have a horrible temper that rockets off into incandescent rage for what seems like no reason (to anyone but me). Plumbing issues aren’t one of the things that piss me off – I don’t know why (or why not).

But this wasn’t a “man’s job”: it was a dirty, smelly, disgusting job. I have never believed that just because I don’t have a penis, I should be automatically exempted from doing dirty, smelly, disgusting work. I’m pretty sure every mom out there would back me up on that. Also: every female pet owner, every female carer for an elderly person, every female doctor or nurse – I could go on. How much excreta of various kinds and from various species do women deal with on a daily basis? I can’t imagine just because it was flushed it means it is less icky, can you? Hell, at least I knew who pooped the poop – a stranger’s poo would likely make me gag.

I’m not angry at the person who made the comment – he didn’t give me time to think about and explain why it was sexist. To be honest, I doubt I would have bothered, because I feel the comment was sexist toward men, too. I’m just as tired of hearing that men should be the ones to do all the physical work as I am at hearing that women shouldn’t do any of it.

Has anyone else had a moment like this? What did you do or say? I think next time it happens, I’ll say a lot more in response, myself.