Contract Killer

The dark room, the eerie quiet, the light of the cigarette. In his hand a plastic bag for the ashes and bud. Ah-ah Mr. Officer, no evidence here. He marveled at the state of the room, a masterpiece.

The bookcase vandalized, books scattered on the floor. The cupboards ransacked, the wardrobe too. Even a few chairs turned around. The killer was looking for something, but what? No money was taken, the expensive watches intact. The only thing missing was the USB, could that be a clue? Of course, our killer was looking for nothing but his victim. Killed in his sleep, but that simply wouldn’t do.

The poor-rich man was carefully pulled out of his bed, a few scratches here and there, a few punches, a sign of a struggle. You’d think that there would be evidence that the marks were made after death. We said no evidence. A silk scarf was placed over the victims face, chloroform, still alive but not moving. When the horrific beating was over, a silencer did the trick.

The empty cartridge delicately removed. Not good enough. So he took a woodworker’s side float, enlarged the exit wound. He then lodged a .45 caliber bullet into the wall where the unfortunate was supposedly killed. Another puff of smoke enters the room.

As our assassin admired his work, he quickly checked his messages, the money was sent. In a week, it should be on his account. Last breath of his cigarette and he took out a small piece of marble. The perfect ashtray. The butt and marble placed in the bag. All done, the last piece of evidence is removed. Perfection.

He then slowly left the apartment, checking no one was around, he turned to the living room, shot one blank in the air, and walked away. As he exited the building, he smirked. What would they make out of it? A robbery? An enemy of the victim?  A secret love affair? Who knows.  Even if they figure out this was a contract killing, it would be way past the essential 48 hours. First they would have to realize that the evidence found on the scene was fake. Then they’d have to see the complexion of the whole setting. By then, our killer would have completed another job, removing evidence just as meticulously. But they won’t figure it out, he knows they won’t, he works with them every day.





Deep in the urban jungle, among the buildings and sidewalks, there lives an endangered species. A female being that comes in many colors, shapes and styles. Unfortunately, PETA is too busy with the fur industry to try and save this poor dying breed. She is close to becoming extinct without you, dear reader, ever seeing one in real life. She is the feminist.

One reason why you probably didn’t spot one is that in order to know a woman is a feminist, you have to talk to her. Not all feminist look like school librarians, unless of course they are a librarian. There is no dress code. A dress code in fact defies what being a feminist is all about. So there’s your first mistake.

Another is that feminism is slowing losing its meaning. Too many woman are claiming to be feminists to seem strong or intellectual. They then go back on the things they claim to believe. It gives people the wrong impression. Gives men an excuse to mock us, to degrade feminism. So maybe you did meet a feminist, but looked at her more like a hypocrite then a person.

Naturally, young woman do not want people to think of them as feminists. Beach blonde barbie is in, Lara Croft is out. After all, what girl wants the cute guy to think she is a lesbian or a man hater? She doesn’t realize that by making herself seem dumb, she has opened the door for people to abuse her, hurt her. No one told her, no one taught her.

On that note, I have decided to clear up some misconceptions about feminists. As I already said, we don’t all dress the same. I guess you figured I am one of “those”, so let me continue. I enjoy putting on make-up and dressing well. I have more shoes than any human truly needs and love them all. I even get really pretty just for my husband. We have a kid you know, the stork didn’t bring him.

As far as chivalry goes, this one most people don’t seem to understand. I am very happy when my husband opens the door for me, or takes my coat. It’s very sweet and romantic. Being a woman, of course I love romance, of course. How did people get to the conclusion that by being nice to a woman, you are taking away her basic human rights? Because that’s what feminism is about, basic human rights.

Don’t know which ones? Being paid equally for example. Better yet, getting the promotion you deserve. I remember my boss once telling me that I wasn’t promoted to manager of the cafe because “people may think there’s something going on between us”. Really? I worked hard, more than most, but I am a woman and pretty so obviously I don’t deserve a raise. Fighting that is feminism, not fighting roses and chocolate.

Heard of Aretha Franklin? Great singer, wrote a song called “respect” listen to it, but with lyrics. Because that is what it’s all about. It’s coming home from work and being respected for it. I don’t mean give your significant other a trophy, I mean don’t tell her how your work is hard and she works because she’s bored. It’s about not listening to people explain to you how raising kids is the woman’s job (and it’s amazingly hard work). If you want my respect, give me yours. Can’t do that because I am ONLY a woman? Then step away, you are not the company I keep.

Want to help keep the strong woman, the feminist alive? Teach your daughters to respect themselves AND their bodies. Tell them life is hard and unfair and they can say “no”. Listen to your wife, or girlfriend, or coworker and don’t laugh away her opinion. Argue with her like you would with any man if you disagree, but don’t patronize her. Go home, make your mum dinner, and tell her “thank you” for teaching you to use the fork and knife. The biggest irony on the planet is that women give life, and half the time the little, beautiful creature born will dismiss her. Don’t do that. We are not pets or playthings, we are women, hear us roar.






Politically correct

Politically correct

I have been informed recently that my writing seems apologetic, and this is true. I re-read my articles and, for some reason I have become gentle to the unknown person who might get insulted by the things I have to say. Then it hit me.A hard, cold slap from an old enemy: political correctness.

When it all started, the idea was very noble. The theory was, if you remove negative wording, people will become more tolerant. If you remove racist or sexist comments from popular culture, people’s opinions will change and all will be right with the world. As I said, noble.

The sad reality is that not only did it not rid the world of bad people, but it created overly sensitive ones. The media should absolutely use it. This makes them seem bias (rarely are, but should be). The rest of us? Really? It’s like everyone has an opinion, a judgment, a thought, but we are all sitting on the fence afraid to choose a side. More than that, afraid to stand alone on that side.

Result: overly explosive arguments in the YouTube comment section. Here, in this safe place, everyone’s a critic. Not only are they suddenly brave, but the arguments usually end at some preschool level. Somehow, at some point, I too become careful. Attentive to people I don’t know, and will never meet. Whether I have been influenced by the TV, or it just became the norm doesn’t matter. This ends now.

No more apologies. We all have a right to an opinion, a voice. If I stand alone on my side, I still stand.  I know what I have to say, stick around and listen. You may love it, you probably won’t,but hey,  you can always go to YouTube and release you frustration there.


So I guess you’ve noticed my pen name is “katmummy”. I know, very impressive. Thing is, this is actually the second blog I started writing. The first was an attempt at parent blogging. You know, writing about my kid and my life since he graced me with his presence, and filled my home with the pitter patter of him running the place. However, I failed. Unfortunately I was not inspired. I adore the little guy, and my life truly is a million times better now, but potty training and reading about Pepa Pig simply doesn’t move me.

Sure I’ll write about him here and there, we are always together and he is an amazing little human being, but my life still belongs to me. My mind, my jokes, my rules. I feel this blog is simply tailored for me. I gave birth, I don’t need those maternity jeans anymore, and I believe my blog should reflect that.

I am a mother, a wife, a daughter, a friend and most of the time a little brash and very opinionated. I refuse to lose any piece of me because today’s society will judge you otherwise. Stopped breastfeeding for any reason, judged, bad mom. Still breastfeeding and your kid has teeth, judged, weird and weak. Unemployed, lazy, judged. Employed, selfish, judged. It goes on and on and on and on.

Then this blog was born. It is about being able to read and comment and think. No judgment. No comparisons to someone better. No envy, no hate. Just honest opinions and honest ideas. The truth, now that’s a refreshing idea.




The Millennials got their name quite recently, maybe it started in the last 5 years, maybe 6, but I remember when I was little we were “the generation after Generation Y”. We were mainly born to “X generation” parents. Now that’s a generation of innovators, movers and shakers. They literally changed the world, they went for it and still go for it.

I mentioned the generation of my parents because it’s important. I’d like to state I do know the difference between literally and figuratively. They did truly change the world. From music, to movies, to business and more. If you look it up you will be in shock that some of your favourite actors, or musicians are born in the 60s. That is the X generation. They didn’t take “No” for an answer, they invented “My way or the highway”. They are bold, strong, brave and very capable. Those are the parents of most Millennials.

We, however, leave a lot to be desired. A few successes here and there in sport (Novak Djokovic, Christiano Ronaldo), or innovations (Mark Zuckerberg), but mostly we are in the corporate world described as lazy, indecisive and quick to change jobs. I actually once stumbled upon a manual of sorts entitled “how to keep your Millennials happy”. There’s something particularly sad about that, we obviously behave like curios toddlers exploring the world but never for more than a few hours. You don’t really want to smack them but you have to find a way to keep them entertained because when they have a tantrum, it’s insufferable.

Is this though completely true? Do we all have a form of ADD or Peter Pan syndrome never wanting to grow up? Could we truly be the forgotten generation? Or is something else, is something bigger a factor? I like to be positive, it’s a big part of who I am and I believe it’s not simply who we are. I believe it can all be changed, and that it’s never too late.

Let’s take a look at the reality of the situation. Just the facts, no opinions, no outlook just as things are right now. Most Millennials still live with their parents, though their own parents had a whole family at this point in life. The ones who have moved out for whatever reason, have mediocre jobs. Many have finished university and either are unemployed as they are still trying to find a job in their field, or are working in the local Deli hoping to get the call.

Another problem is we are getting older, for those who weren’t “lucky enough” to get on a career path are very close to being “overqualified”. What that means is you are too old to be taught anything new and the company doesn’t need you.

Starting your own company has its own set of new challenges. Unless you are super intelligent, super lucky or a very good salesman, you are competing with a lot of already established companies. It used to be a few cafes, bars pubs located in one area, now they are everywhere. A few shops and supermarkets, now you have huge corporations with low prices and you cannot compete. Any business, any idea, it’s already been done, already established and probably owned by an X-Gen and we know they are ready to kick their dead grandma’s ass let alone yours.

To make things worse, our parents are the X Generation. They had plenty of challenges we will never face. The cold war, the Berlin wall (they brought it down), high unemployment, their own set of very active, home bread, terrorists and more. When they were little, people didn’t lose their heads over a parent physically disciplining their kids even if it went too far. It’s safe to say, they did not have it easy. We don’t even get to complain. So what’s left, we’ve given up hope.

I believe that last sentence and only that sentence is the reason why we are stuck on our computers, watching funny animal videos and living an imaginary life online. We are not lazy, we are out of hope. Hope, the main reason why men fought wars they couldn’t possibly win, why woman went on the streets to fight for their right to vote, why people ever tried to change the world. Hope the maker of men and women and more than that. Hope the maker of children and families. Without hope, you can never truly believe it’ll get better. Most Millennials will never admit it, but however unique we are, we all feel this deep down inside. This is it. It will never be better than now.

Give it time and don’t give up. You don’t need to be amazing right now. It’ll come. You don’t need a ton of fans or friends to make it. It’ll come. You don’t need to be cool or unique or weird or lucky. You need to be ready, to remain hopeful, to keep working IT WILL COME.