Bitch on the Blog

May 24, 2012

And what do you do for a living?

Filed under: Communication — bitchontheblog @ 03:21
Tags: , , , , , , ,

I could, and would like to, speak about the last roll of toilet paper in the house. But I won’t.

Phil recently inspired two questions: How did you come by your name? Who decided your children’s names? A worthy subject. Going right to the core of our being. Not least directing you to the divorce court.

The Angel’s name came easy. And no, his name is not “The Angel”. He just looks like one. May I say, and be assured of my dismay, that some blogger took it upon herself to find out what my son’s name is and publish it. She preens herself on being ‘curious’. And was gracious enough assuring me (on my blog) that I was most welcome to take down the information she had put out there in more detail than strictly necessary, including my address. Well, Cheerful Monk/Jean – yours is one of two comments I took down in all my years of blogging. Not because the Angel could give a shit who knows his name. Well known anyway. But that moment I saw you as spiteful. Hope it’ll somehow chime with your Buddha.

Sorry, got carried away there with anger. Karma, no doubt, will take care of both mean Jean and myself.

Yes, names. What’s in a name? I don’t know. I chose my son’s by intuition. Since an unusual name here, people will gush over it. Yet, when I am introduced to someone  name doesn’t matter. Not really. A Benjamin is not necessarily a Benjamin. John is unfortunate. But only because there so many of them.

My grandmother registered my birth. Going against her daughter’s/my mother’s wishes. Thus I am Ursula (same name as my mother’s) and am very happy with it. I’d have hated to be what my mother had in mind and then named her second daughter, and beloved sister of mine. So I am an Ursula and most certainly not my sister. Ponder on this, any of you who have names and/or siblings.

And then there is one of my pet hates: Abbreviating a name. My son’s name can’t be abbreviated. For that it’s too short. Pity one of my nephews: Christopher. A name is a name. Say it. Even if it takes a nano second longer than abbreviating it. It’s one thing I do not like about English speaking countries: Their need to abbreviate. Why? You are given a name. How hard can it be for friends, family, teachers, colleagues to actually say your name in full?

The last paragraph felt good.

You may call me Urse. Only one person in my life has called me that, and I loved it. Yes, GG . And, in many a moment of affection,  I too shortened his six letter name to four.

Over to you, Phil.




  1. I’m having to laugh right now, but in good nature. You are the one who decided to shorten my name to Con without my invitation.

    Comment by conhake — May 24, 2012 @ 04:14 | Reply

    • As soften it’s wordpress having the last laugh rather than just letting me respond to you. One more try before I fold:

      Dearest Conrad, yes, I know. I am guilty of sins that I spurn. There was, of course, my tongue in cheek, when, a long time ago, you had doubts as to the person I am. That I was possibly conning you.

      Out of affection, and the fact that you and I have proven that peace can be made in adversary, you will always be Con(rad) to me.


      Comment by Ursula — May 24, 2012 @ 07:44 | Reply

  2. To expand on the theme, and in the wake of what Conrad said earlier: Despite my grandmother having put Ursula on the birth certificate, I was barely aware of my name till I was eight. Why? Because my grandmother called me ‘Sunshine’ which was soon adopted by all as “Sonny”. Till she died (when I was eight). After that I couldn’t bear being called Sonny. It was too painful.

    One of her daughters, my aunt and longest lived relative, still only calls me Sonny. It’s like a home coming.


    Comment by Ursula — May 24, 2012 @ 07:57 | Reply

    • I’m with “Fee” about the loss of formaity: Try perusading youngsters attending and English secondary school to call you Mr or Mrs “X”… it’s always “Siiir” or “Miiiiis” …. even years later in life…… In Primary cschool I found it fairly easy to break them of the habit and call me Mr. Mills…… “Do I call you Child or Boy or Girl?…… but they inevitably revert….

      I too hate abbreviation of names….. especially as there is a tendency for people to whine as the do it…Daaave… “Herself” hates her name and wants it to be abbreviated. This is a cause of friction as I just cannot do it and yet I have met several women who have been inroduced to me as her preferred abbreviation and I willingly use it as I do not know their full name….. complicated…even more so when they have tried to entice me away from my marital duties.

      There is one thing to be said for abbrevation: As a parent (and sometimes as a teacher) use of full name, as oposed to pet name, can be a useful disciplinary tool.

      My mother once told me that she had thought that she was really clever persuading my father to allow her to call my sister Ann Elizabeth. He later told me that, Elizabeth Tudor being his heroine, he had always wanted a daughter called Elizabeh Ann……. I wonder who was the clever one.

      The temptation is to quote “The Bard” on naming roses…..

      Comment by David (Magpie) — May 24, 2012 @ 11:24 | Reply

      • David, mothers, or at least mine, run the whole gamut of names by their children till they regain some sort of composure and address you proper. Since I am the eldest by so many years this does not trouble me. My mother sometimes calls me her sister’s name. Which, for reasons not to be disclosed here or any time, does trouble me greatly.

        It’s ok. There was a small window in my son’s life (when he was a toddler) I found myself calling him ‘Alexander’, my brother’s name; Strange. Can’t say I liked it. Luckily, he was too young to have any recollection of that aberration of mine.

        Surnames. Teachers. Well, David. You clearly have not lived where I was brought up. One minute my favourite teacher calls me Ursula or whatever, the next, on coming of age, I am Miss ……… to him. Yes, really. Shook me. When, some twenty years, or so, later I came to see him, surprise visit, with my then tiny son in tow he still recognized me, in the split of a second, as, well, me, Ursula ………

        Since you are a teacher it may be of interest to you that one of the Angel’s [teachers] at sixth form college – and she wasn’t the only one – called me ‘a soft touch’. What was there to be hard about? He was an A grade in everything. And even if he hadn’t been.

        Have to get some fresh fish now before it’s less than fresh. Will write more later.


        Comment by Ursula — May 24, 2012 @ 12:22 | Reply

        • Was accosted in the street the other day! ” Mr Mills!” Blank look on my part…..face vaguley familiar…name escaped.
          “It’s Lewis!”
          Then the unforgiveable<" Ah! Same class as ….x….!"
          A day later… Large woman thrusts face in mine and says, " Edwina! It's all your fault Mr Mills."
          "Ah! Edwina!" this one I did remember purely because she was soooo intelligent (and troubled) and was a favourite…( I know, Teacher's always say they don't have them…but they are lying when they do).. not rated by anyone else!
          "What's my fault?"
          "I'm doing Maths A level because you got me excited about it."

          Comment by magpie11 — May 24, 2012 @ 13:53 | Reply

  3. I’m having a chuckle at this one – not because of the mean spirited blogger (and why would anyone want to invade your privacy to that degree?) – but because I am working on a novel about six friends and every single one of them ends up being called by a nickname which is an abbreviation of their actual name. I think we do that because we have lost formality. There used to be a time when we called people Mr or Mrs or Aunt or something that denoted respect and formality. Now everybody including the preacher goes by their given name. Therefore, we imply closeness to people by giving them our own abbreviated names. I am sooooo guilty of this. A friend’s daughter named Elizabeth who spent a great deal of time with me when she was little – I call ‘Izzy B’. Nobody else calls her that. It signifies we are close. Shoot me now.

    Comment by writingfeemail — May 24, 2012 @ 10:19 | Reply

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