March Day 30


Women are bitches to each other.

I know. Alert the media.
It’s not new news, but it’s something that’s bugging the shit out of me, so I thought I’d get it off my (saggy) chest. It perplexes me and it always has, how girls and women can be so horrid to each other. Heck, Tina Fey even wrote a movie (Mean Girls) documenting just how vile us damsels can be to each other. But full disclosure. I’m not innocent to the low shallows of “indirect aggression” (if we’re giving bitchiness it’s proper title). Even more disclosure: I feel a little ironic discussing vacuous spite, since I’m currently in my living room, watching the ‘vulture fest’ a.k.a the Oscars. After all, the dissection of celebs and their fashion choices is the grand poohbah of discreet bitch fests…Unless you’re Joan Rivers, of course, then you just let your bitchiness hang out on the open…Unlike your wrinkles, which you pin back so far behind your ears that they practically do a 360. See what I did there? Bam! One glass of good rose wine and I’m a fucking natural at this shit.
Why do I hate bitchiness? I’ll tell you why. It’s because girls put up with it all their lives. It begins as a flurry in elementary school, elevates to a dull roar in middle school, only to hit fever pitch by teenage ville. With such an undercurrent of tension shaping our formative years, you would think that as we matured we would calm the jets on our back- stabbing ways. You would think that when middle age beckoned, with daughters of our own, we would want to break the cycle.
Do we fuck! Since becoming a mother, I’m sad to say that the broads I’ve encountered being awful to each other is astounding. But it ain’t nothing new. Being at the mercy of estrogen-driven cruelty is as old as time. According to some researchers, women favour indirect aggression because back when we were all wearing loin cloths, living in caves, women got saddled with cave-sitting and looking after the kids. So in order not get kicked out of the cave crib and passed over for younger cave diva, passive aggression evolved as a survival tactic.
But I say FUCK.THAT.SHIT. You know what girls, we left the cave along time ago. We don’t need to hide behind our husbands loin cloths, bitching at other damsels just in case they nab our geezer. We don’t need to smile and wave at other girls, only to stick the knife in as soon as their back is turned.
Frenemy is a new word, and it sucks that it exists. Because life is simple and it’s formula don’t take no genius to work it out. Live it, laugh through it and enjoy it. And If you have a gripe with someone: spill it. Don’t wait till they leave the room to launch your caustic attack. As my little Irish Nan would have said, “People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.” But she was a sweet, wonderful lady without a bad bone in her body. Me, I’m not so pure. But you all know I adore a cliche. So to all my retractors I say this: “Be careful what you say. It may come back to bite you on the arse.” OK Vent done and dusted. If you made it this far into my blog post, thank you. And if you are female I hope you take heed. It’s International Women’s day in six days. All over the world so many women are still fighting for simple things. An education. Who to marry. To keep their genitalia intact. Here in the West we’re fucking lucky. So let’s remember that and practice a little kindness. Now…back to the Oscars and Jared Leto.

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