Bitch on the Blog

March 4, 2010

The little Mermaid


As a rule of thumb I recommend to try and make yourself sound dumber than you are.

It’ll lull  people into a false sense of SUPERIORITY; only to then find themselves ambushed  from behind when you yourself enter the more contemptuous of your diverse polar inclinations. If I’ve lost you now don’t worry: Hansel and Gretel too were pushed to find their way back. That teaches you to rely on breadcrumbs. Elementary, one would have thought. Still, in the end the witch got her roasting. And that’s why you should be careful in your choice of which fairy tale you want to star in.




  1. I don’t believe in fairies.

    Comment by Magpie11 — March 4, 2010 @ 12:28 | Reply

    • Ohhhhhhh, MAGPIE!!!! You don’t need to ‘believe’. All you need is ability to read (mainly between the lines) and let yourself get carried away on the wavelengths of your imagination.

      I shall ponder on which character I’d best cast you in. One came to mind immediately; but you’d need to inhabit my brain in order to understand why.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 4, 2010 @ 13:02 | Reply

  2. I could fit into most any fairy tale. I’m the damsel in distress, waiting to be rescued. My husband trained me. He likes to fix things, a male trait.

    I’ve been told that I “put myself down”. I act stupider than I am. (I really think I’m “smart as a whip”.) I feel it’s being humble which will make people like me.

    Comment by bikehikebabe — March 4, 2010 @ 14:34 | Reply

    • I’d say you are a “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let your hair down”.

      Snow White is a little boring considering that all she did was to take a bite out of an apple and then lie there, for a long time, till a prince passed by. Would she have woken for a beggar? Then of course, and I don’t know her English name, that most irritating of them all – Dornroeschen. A rose with more than one thorn. Oh, yes, I think she is Sleeping Beauty. What is it with a lot of women in fairy tales? They retire. And sleep. Give me good old Aschenputtel – the one who went to the ball only to lose her glass slipper at midnight – any time. Spirit – that’s what’s needed. Not smelling salts.

      As to your own sweet self and comment: Yes, you do put yourself down. No need to. You are as smart as a whip (though I have never yet encountered a whip smart or otherwise). Forget other people. We are not put into this world to be “liked”. As my mother instilled in me (borrowed from a poem by Fontane): The value others give us amounts to nothing. The only value is the one we give ourselves.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 4, 2010 @ 20:50 | Reply

  3. My, your mother was wise. My mother’s only advice was “Put your husband on a pedestal”. I didn’t listen to her.

    Comment by bikehikebabe — March 4, 2010 @ 20:59 | Reply

  4. My mother always said, “Never let guys know how smart you are.” How dumb was that? Instead I went to Stanford and majored in physics. It turns out there were plenty of guys who appreciated me. The ratio in physics classes was about 50 guys to every gal. It’s nice to have choices. 🙂

    Comment by Cheerful Monk — March 4, 2010 @ 21:04 | Reply

    • It’s a difficult one you raised there, Jean. Linking in with what Bike Hike Babe said: You put someone on a pedestal (and haven’t we all) only to find that when they topple their feet of clay will shatter into a thousand pieces. Not their fault. Nobody asks to be put on a pedestal: I have been and have done so onto others myself.

      Maybe what both BHB’s and your mother were referring to is that strange law of caveman and woman attraction where he needs to be superior (at least physically) to her emotional self. We (women) might be made of steel inside but need to give impression to yield to the superior power. And who doesn’t want that knight in shining armour (apart from ME because I find them too high maintenance and anyway I need space)?

      Feminism has it all wrong. Yes, sure we want to earn as much as guys doing the same job but, for heaven’s sake, let’s not emasculate men. They don’t take kindly to it. Neither do we (women). Who wants a wet blanket under your sheet? Earlier today I discussed this most awful recent tendency, particularly in TV advertising, to put men down – big time. It’s just shit – excuse my language. It doesn’t serve any purpose. It doesn’t empower women. It just takes away from what they might have with a guy. I am not advocating women being pulled by their hair back into the cave but, for heaven’s sake, let’s keep a little mystery between the sexes instead of levelling what is NOT a level playing field. Let’s play to our strength. Even if that means to endure silence from one’s spouse. If only.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 4, 2010 @ 21:41 | Reply

  5. All I can say is my approach worked very well for me. I can’t speak for other people. I wish them as much luck as I have had in my life.

    Comment by Cheerful Monk — March 4, 2010 @ 22:42 | Reply

    • Cheerful Monk, you didn’t need an approach. You had 50 men to choose from. “50 guys to every gal”.

      I went to a woman’s college. When I got out, I had to go hunting.

      Comment by bikehikebabe — March 4, 2010 @ 23:05 | Reply

  6. My approach was to not worry about letting men feel superior. I just let them know they’re appreciated, which is true.

    Comment by Cheerful Monk — March 4, 2010 @ 23:57 | Reply

    • Men don’t care much about how pretty you are, or how smart you are. They love you if you love them, appreciate them and treat them well.

      Then there are the men who are treated badly but still pursue for the conquest.

      Comment by bikehikebabe — March 5, 2010 @ 14:23 | Reply

  7. The desire to dominate is there in every man. I don’t mind letting the man be the boss if he wants the job, but he’d better do it right. Nor should he abuse his position to control and manipulate others. I feel that every woman should be ready to take care of herself – and the rest – if required. There is nothing worse than a woman who depends on her partner for everything. Disgusting actually.

    I like what Jean said in comment 6. She is one of the most rational people I have ever met – be it in the real or the virtual world.

    Fairy tales have messages. The Sleeping Beauty is the most translated. Stay asleep until the handsome prince comes to wake you up. The trouble is, princes are few and far between. Cinderella is utterly sinister – glass slippers and all. Who could dance properly in glass slippers? My mother calls me Rapunzel – says I live in an unattainable tower because she can’t see me very often. She also claims that I have to spin straw into gold since I got married. Well, she may be right, but the straw is still straw not gold. LOL

    Comment by gaelikaa — March 6, 2010 @ 19:52 | Reply

    • “I like what Jean said in comment 6.” SniffleSniffleSob. What about me? (What I said in comment 6.) don’t I count?

      Comment by bikehikebabe — March 7, 2010 @ 14:11 | Reply

    • gaelikaa, as you say nobody should abuse their “position to control and manipulate others”. Man or woman. One of the biggest arch manipulators of all times known to me is indeed a woman.

      You admire Jean for being “one of the most rational people I have ever met”. It goes without saying that I like Jean; I therefore feel safe to say that she and I often do not share the same outlook on life. “Rational”? Maybe. Unfortunately, “rational” people scare me; they often have me running, screaming, up the hill. Main reason being that I can’t help feeling that they [rational people] put a distance between themselves and others. But then that observation of mine might tell you more about me than about her. I myself would call Jean level-headed – fine difference. And I’d hate to be in vicinity should she ever get steamed up under her collar. It wouldn’t be a pretty sight.

      How very interesting that you call Cinderella’s tale sinister. Yes, the glass slipper was not exactly practical but then, of course, fairy tales (as you say) deal in metaphores. One of my earliest memories being Scheherazade and her 1001 nights you recently mentioned. I admired her, still do, immensely: Not just for her cunning survival skills but her imagination. As to all those women lying dormant waiting for their prince that is just so NOT me. Good luck to them and Bridget Jones. But, if you want something, someone, you go after it, not retire to bed. Mind you, neither do I identify with any of the cast of “Sex and the City” (I like Mr Big – always there at the right time, at the right place; taking his love interest’s oddities like a MAN – on the chin, with a big smile).

      My dear gaelikaa, I think your mother quite right: Even if not literally, you most certainly appear to be spinning Indian straw into Irish gold. Now there is a fairy tale character whose grit and determination I admire.


      PS gaelikaa, talking about determination: I still can’t leave a comment on your blog. Am I dumb or something? It’s become a bit of a mission of mine to break that little mystery.

      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 7, 2010 @ 18:21 | Reply

      • I know Jean very well & she wants the opposite of distance between herself & others. (That doesn’t mean she will always agree with you.)

        She helps you in any way she can. That’s her life’s mission.

        When I call her she answers in a crisp hello, which tells me she’s busy. But she isn’t too busy to listen & talk.
        When I had a swollen foot propped up & in bed for 4 months, she called & I called her almost everyday. She got me through that. Someone used to call her & talk endlessly about her problems. Jean listened when she wanted to do other things, but this person needed to be heard.

        Comment by bikehikebabe — March 7, 2010 @ 18:45 | Reply

      • I’m sorry Ursula, I don’t know why you can’t leave comments on mine. If you click on the post title, that usually works for me rather than the comment button. Maybe you might like to try it?

        Comment by gaelikaa — March 11, 2010 @ 14:53 | Reply

  8. bikehikebabe,
    “When I call her she answers in a crisp hello, which tells me she’s busy.” Actually that’s not always/usually true. I’m a visual thinker and talk fast. I still laugh at something my daughter once said. Someone told her she talked fast. She answered, “You think I talk fast? You should hear my mom!” And as I’ve told you often, I love it when you phone. It makes me feel close to you. I’ve always thought you didn’t want long chats.

    I just published this week’s post at Cheerful Monk: Three Epitaphs. It ends with

    What about you? How would you sum up your values, your life?

    Comment by Cheerful Monk — March 7, 2010 @ 19:08 | Reply

    • Dear Jean, how did I know you are one of life’s fast talkers? As it happens I talk at an average speed – mainly because my father instilled in me to listen first, then consider my thoughts before opening my mouth. That’s why we have recreational gaps in our conversations – the last lasting circa 8 (in numbers EIGHT) months – his wish, not mine. It appears my mother told him that if he didn’t start up conversation again any time soon I will not hold a speech at his grave. She didn’t find it funny when I told her that was possibly the reason he has kept shtum for so long. Never mind; I have had enough heated discussions with him to last me till the end of my own days. My own vice being that I talk A LOT (inherited from guess who) – meandering all over the place. Back to speed, and I believe it to be a pecularly American trait: The mother of a friend of mine – she is Irish though has lived in Canada for ages – talks at the rate of knots. She is is most exhilerating – if somewhat exhausting.

      Unlike you, I am most certainly not “crisp” when answering the phone. My son marvels at how I can be polite sweetness and light talking to an imbecile, then slam the phone down and foam at the mouth in the privacy of my own earshot. At least I do it in the right order. Anyway, shall finish cooking dinner now, then read your three Epitaphs. Whether I’ll be able to answer your question remains to be seen.

      Sorry, I am slight distracted. Sundays are really not my thing though was gratified earlier to have another little communication with Conrad (Ramana’s blog). Will concentrate later.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 7, 2010 @ 20:06 | Reply

  9. BTW Jean gave a free class on stress management. The above person calling her happened earlier. Jean said the woman talked an hour at a time. Maybe this gave Jean the idea of the Stress Management class.

    She later quit the class, because we talked about our problems, but didn’t do the homework, i.e. practicing what she suggested & asked us to read.

    Comment by bikehikebabe — March 7, 2010 @ 19:11 | Reply

  10. Ah, coming back for a little sit-down over here. I must admit to being a bit put off by my designation as a fan of yours. I would certainly seek a healthier relationship.

    It appears that you are finally beginning to actually develop a blog of your own rather than just a continuing diatribe against other bloggers. You do err periodically in this matter, but baby steps toward sanity …

    Nasty advice for a life strategy for the Little Mermaid. Perhaps she would be silly enough to want friends.

    Comment by L Ron Hubbard — March 8, 2010 @ 00:49 | Reply

    • Lafayette, please do take a seat.

      If you are being “a bit put off by … designation” as a fan of mine, I am sure I’ll be able to give you an upgrade and find you another role in my life. Do remember that we attract what we need. And do keep chewing the fat – health will be yours.

      As to your “baby steps towards sanity”: I myself prefer giant strides in search of madness.

      That you feel need to give, in your own words, “nasty advice” to someone as lovely and, more particularly, loving as The Little Mermaid leaves me puzzled.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 8, 2010 @ 15:58 | Reply

  11. L Ron, let me refresh your memory.
    Ursula didn’t make the usual Kiss-Ass comments, “What a lovely post.” I enjoy your blog so very much.” “You’ve taught me greatly.” Her comments were more a critique, but harming no one.

    The Bloggers did the witch hunt. Gathered with nasty comments about Ursula. Gathered for The Tale of Two Cities type be-heading fun. Announced in big headlines – WHY I BANNED URSULA FROM MY BLOG & then others banned her. It was a Blogger’s gang beating.

    Comment by bikehikebabe — March 8, 2010 @ 16:00 | Reply

    • I’ll elaborate. After Grannymar’s post about shoes (I think it was), Ursula asked if Magpie 11 wore high heels. That caused an uproar–because Magpie 11 is a man. I thought he was female at the time too.

      Turns out he’s an extremely curious male who reads about most everything & can write comments on Grannymar’s stitchery posts.

      After that the bloggers criticized her innocuous comments that I thought were not harmfull & interesting.

      Then Ursula fought back. A blog should be a discussion & not a battle, but Ursula didn’t instigate that.

      Comment by bikehikebabe — March 8, 2010 @ 16:40 | Reply

      • Bike Hike Babe, as so often I could hug you.

        I left my “reply” to you as a new post rather than here: That comes from writing at 0413 hrs when too awake to sleep and too dozy to know what I am doing. Having since caught up on my snooze I briefly considered whether to tuck away my comment here or just live with it on the main site. STET – let it stand – being one of my favourite editorial signatures I just left it for all the world to see. Since when do I go into hiding?

        Did you know that sleep deprivation causes similar symptoms to being drunk? No, neither did I until recently. Still, I suppose at least your liver doesn’t suffer, only the rest of your life.

        The “I’m a girl” in the header of my post is a quote from the film. It was Daphne’s (the Jack Lemmon character) mantra when he had to face a gaggle of rather attractive geese (not least Marilyn Monroe) in desperate attempt to not give his manhood away. I have to say I feel for the guy.

        Other than that I suppose I should try and concentrate on more important matters like the one Cheerful Monk raises instead of turning the air on my own blog blue.

        Hugs and kisses

        Comment by bitchontheblog — March 10, 2010 @ 10:31 | Reply

  12. Curious? As in weird or odd? or as in inquisitive? or maybe both?

    Is that a compliment or an insult?

    I’m just me… a crazy mixed up kid…still!

    Comment by Magpie11 — March 8, 2010 @ 17:37 | Reply

    • Curious as in inquisitive & is very much a compliment.

      “Stay curious and open to life. No matter what happens keep learning and growing. Find what you love to do and find a way to share it with others.”
      –That’s a CheerfulMonk comment in this weeks blog, BTW.

      Comment by bikehikebabe — March 8, 2010 @ 18:09 | Reply

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