Bitch on the Blog

August 17, 2011

Back to black

Before I try and climb Looney’s rope I will declare my hand:

I loathe blogs.

NO,  not yours. Mine. Such a ridiculous half way house between a PUBLIC confessionary and a diary. Always with the breaks on: You can’t spill ALL the beans, can you. Unless certifiable. So you spill some beans and ask yourself what the hell is the point. Other than getting some feedback from BHB, Magpie and Looney.  Those three are worth keeping this blog alive, if it kills me.

That I hate comment boxes on other people’s blogs even more than my own blog goes without saying.

Anyway, this minute’s gripe, and needs  to be vented before I think better: You know what I don’t like about life? What unsettles me more than any surprise or misery that can every befall me?

Yes, you got it in one: I’d be so much happier if I knew the hour/the day/the year. It’s  not funny. It’s not control freak. It’s wanting some peace of mind. Let’s say I knew I’d drop within the next 59 minutes (blod clot or some other sudden inconvenience) I’d tackle the remainder of my life differently than if,  say, being given one month to tidy my affairs. Or twenty years to meander around dreamily (whilst tidying my affairs). I don’t like uncertainty. And yes, I know it’s what has given us philosophy in its endless quest of finding out what life and its loyal friend, death, are about

All I want is an expiry date.

Is that so much to ask for? Go to your supermarket. Everything (even cans which last forever) are given a sell and a use by date. It’s only the human being left in the dark. With regards to the sensitivities of those who believe in God and an afterlife, I shall not be too harsh but seriously: Along with your birth certificate couldn’t you be given a pointer?

Back to black,




  1. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I never check the time. It is because if there is only one more hour or less before I need to get up, my mind will be crunching the minutes and I will never get some sleep. The lesson I draw from this is that we (i.e. myself) are possibly more productive in life to the extent that we don’t know the expiration date.

    Comment by Looney — August 17, 2011 @ 13:24 | Reply

    • I never look at the clock when I wake up in the middle of the night. Better not to count hours when I’ll be getting up. I don’t want to know my expiration date either.

      Comment by bikehikebabe — August 17, 2011 @ 21:08 | Reply

  2. Don’t forget that expiry/sell by/use by dates are always very conservative… sorry…. more later, on mature reflection if that is at all possible for me.

    Comment by magpie11 — August 17, 2011 @ 18:07 | Reply

  3. I feel the say way about my blog, or my once-upon-a-time blog. Can’t tell the truth, so what’s the point?

    I might be able to tell you your expiration date — are you SURE you want to know????

    Comment by Jody — August 18, 2011 @ 01:00 | Reply

    • I think anyone can tell their expiration date to some extent if they’re not in denial. Are they fat or obese; do they smoke; do they exercise; what’s their blood pressure & LDL; are they diabetic; are they battling any kind of cancer; do their relatives die young?

      Comment by bikehikebabe — August 18, 2011 @ 13:01 | Reply

      • Before I answer Jody, Looney and Magpie, let me say, BHB: Your notion is so American, Presbyterian, if it weren’t you I’d laugh. Yes, Americans. They think (generalizing here) that there is a fix for everything. There isn’t.

        LIfestyle is as slippery as are statistics: Sure, you might raise the game and die five minutes earlier because of some estra Body Mass. On the other hand you might smoke till you are 100 years old and your fingers are so yellow they put the sun to shame.

        There is no KNOWING. And it is most decidedly not in the genes. That which currently and in the last few years has afflicted me has no base in my forebears’ medical history. I tell the doctor I am truly sorry: Those who are alive are as fit as fiddles, those who are dead succumbed to wear and tear or were shot as soldiers or prisoners of war (I think they call it cannon fodder).

        If I cross the street and don’t look Ieft I am done. If I get caught in a right over my head thunderstorm underneath the biggest oak around – well, who knows. I know someone who was so into eating DRY fibre she died of bowel cancer.. That’s what comes from being tight arsed. Have now forgotten the name of that health and fitness nut who – to utter chagrin of all the self righteous and clean living – dropped dead at a ridiculously early age. Think about it: By rights, say, Keith Richards should be dead. He isn’t is he? Thank the Lord since he has a sense of humour not quite matched by the stone dry skeleton of his former self, the mean and jogging Mick Jagger.

        Hell’s Bells, BHB, and when they will tolll is in the stars. Unless you are the bull or its fighter in Hemingway’s “Death in the Afternoon”. Those of a sensitive disposition should not read it, though do recommend it, as all of Hemingway’s, to anyone thinking of taking up writing as the day job. Prose as clear as crystal water. And then he blew his brains out.


        Comment by bitchontheblog — August 18, 2011 @ 13:52 | Reply

  4. ” BHB: Your notion is so American, Presbyterian, if it weren’t you I’d laugh.”

    How did you know? I AM Presbyterian. At least I was raised Presbyterian. And of course I’m American. Go ahead & laugh.

    Comment by bikehikebabe — August 18, 2011 @ 14:37 | Reply

    • No, no, Cynthia. Whilst you make me laugh a lot, I’d never laugh AT you.

      The Presbyterian was a pot shot in the dark. Stands to reason, doesn’t it?

      Bear hug, gentle one,

      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 18, 2011 @ 17:28 | Reply

  5. What if, instead of the expiration dates afforded to milk and canned peaches, we had the option to renew for another year, like a magazine subscription? Would you choose to go on indefinitely? People say they’d eventually grow bored with life, but the alternative doesn’t sound too exciting either. That offer to “save 75% off the newsstand price” would get me every time. Immortality is the way to go.

    Comment by bronxboy55 — September 20, 2011 @ 21:33 | Reply

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