Bitch on the Blog

October 28, 2012

Start at the beginning

Filed under: Books — bitchontheblog @ 22:35
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Sweethearts, the nights get longer – a bit like earlobes do (according to Phil) as time passes on. Since I have long hair I shall worry about that once my hair starts falling out. In the meantime my main ambition is to not get long in the tooth.

In the absence of anything better to do I have (no, not lit a fire) looked through a stack of  books, forlorn and neglected in a corner. And came across an author I find so incomprehensible I will give him away. Our twain will never meet. Want to know the name? Just ask. Not that he is the only one. I will give any print a try – well, no, not any, but most – yet, by Jove, one’s patience may be tested.

Talking of which, and please do tell me now: Leaving non-fiction aside since with non-fiction it doesn’t matter on which page you open the book: Are any of you that most awful of creatures who reads the end first? If you are please don’t tell me because you will go down the greasy pole of my esteem before you can say ‘rock bottom’.

It’s no joke. There is a book I’d love to give to two long distant friends of mine. Bought the copies for them years ago. It’s a brilliant read. It encompasses all both of them are interested in. Not least food. Yet, I can’t bring myself to send it to them. Why? Because I know them. They’ll flick through it, read the last page and spoil the whole surprise. Which makes the whole exercise pointless.




Filed under: Happiness — bitchontheblog @ 05:06

Don’t faint: I am in love.

With myself.

October 26, 2012

Boo to the goose

Filed under: Communication — bitchontheblog @ 22:23
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You think snails are slow? Don’t.

People are too sensitive.

If I say that I wouldn’t do/wear/say/drive X, Y and Z doesn’t mean that I criticize someone who does. It’s one of the saddest – and totally unnecessary – parts of human nature to go on the defensive as soon as you don’t nod your head.

Twice in my early life I was reduced to keep snails as pets. Don’t weep for me. They taught me a lot – not least that you may offer salad leaves, a shoe box as a home and name them (yes,  you too, Amanda)  it won’t stop them fleeing your tender loving care. The swines. Since when I value little more than loyalty.

Yes, so people and snails are far too sensitive.  All you need to do is touch a snail’s tendrils or just lift it up carefully off the ground and it will retreat into its shell. Fast. Very fast  considering how slow they are. Patience is the name of the game with snails. They will emerge again. Eventually. Other than that I think they are deaf. Impervious to reason. I am not surprised people eat them drenched in garlic butter. To avert attention how utterly tasteless (and rubbery) they [the snails] are.

Remember to starve snails for 24 hours should you wish to consume them.


October 21, 2012

No empty threats

Filed under: Happiness — bitchontheblog @ 13:48
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Right Sweethearts: It Sunday afternoon 1444 hrs. I am going into a windswept tunnel. With a candle. Wish me luck. Most importantly: Please do distract me as best you can. Think of yourself as the sponge to someone drowning. To mop up surplus water. OH MY GOD: The moment I jump into action I frighten myself.  This is going to be so awful. Anyway, mustn’t postpone the evil moment. The Angel, my loss adjuster, has high hopes of me and is, unfortunately, on watch this afternoon.

Quivering and yours,


October 19, 2012


Filed under: Atmosphere — bitchontheblog @ 20:03
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There is comfort in chaos.

Who’d have ever thought that I, of all people, Ms Organized, would commit those words to paper?

There is comfort in chaos. Well, let’s not exaggerate: Maybe not so much in ‘chaos’ but certainly in disorder. I look around me and ten years ago I would have blitzed the place to within an inch of its comfort zone in ten minutes flat and filed everyone and everything in alphabetical order whether they liked it or not.

Now, this minute, I look at my desk, the window sill the desk runs along and whilst it’s a shambles there is comfort in it and reluctance to do anything about it. And no, I am not depressed. I am undecided. Who is the real me? The old one or the even older one?

Don’t worry: The rest of what can only loosely be described as a ‘study’ is a disgrace – and I am so glad that people who knew me earlier in my life can’t see what my back is facing when I sit at my desk. That’s one of the reasons I am so happy that I don’t have eyes at the back of my head.

The secret to life is storage. Which is why I always wanted a plan chest, preferably an old and weathered one. Plan chests will be familiar to architects to hold their, well, plans. I need a plan chest to hold all my paper. And photographs. And everything.

Just shows you: You can take an orderly person out of order. But you can’t take the urge to order out of me.

Wish me luck. I am not sure where this is leading. But I do fear for myself. This might sound oddball but I think I can pinpoint the moment paralysis set in. On 12 January 2009 the police knocked at my door and asked me whether I was the owner of vehicle ………. Indeed. I was. I had taken it to the garage for its annual check up and various repairs. For a handsome fee. Only the garage parked the car – ready for collection the next day – on the road. Yes, Sweethearts, someone shortened what was quite a vehicle – in the middle of the night. Identity unknown. It was a write off. Not that the car and I were joined at the hip but I loved the freedom, the spur of the moment, following your impulse, it gave me. Since then I walk which, yes, keeps me fit and trim – nothing new there then – but I think I’ve lost a gear or two.

Anyway, I can feel a tidal wave of determination coming on. So should I be a little quiet (unlikely) it’s because I am on a mission. Please do let me know what you’d like to be filed under. I’ll even coloUr code you if you wish. Make an inventory of you. And a duplicate. Should you prefer being dumped I will make sure you’ll go into the right recycling container.

Hugs, kisses and clinging to the wreckage of my life,


October 17, 2012


Filed under: Culture — bitchontheblog @ 21:32

One of the most annoying aspects of blogging is that there are many subjects you can’t touch. If you are the coward that I clearly am shaping up to be.

I cannot believe how much I’d like to put out here but can’t. I can’t. Either there really are too many lunatics out there after my hide, or I am currently suffering a spot of acute paranoia. People get killed over the contents of their wallet (say, five Pound Sterling): Do I want to be killed over my totally irrelevant views on any matter political, religious (any denomination) or how to bring up your children? No. I don’t.

Your loss. And mine.



Filed under: Pretentious Shit — bitchontheblog @ 02:56

“Those who were blind did not know of the elephant they touched”. I dispute this. Put me in a dark room and I’ll soon tell you what I am touching. Though the difference between a rat and a hamster can only be determined by their tail. Their squeak. And their bite.


October 13, 2012


Filed under: Friends — bitchontheblog @ 13:34
Tags: , , ,

I have just received two more ‘Failure Notices”. From the ‘postmaster’ himself. A timely reminder not to get above myself. Never to assume everything will just be fine. It won’t.

On 21st September, on occasion of my LSF’s (longest standing friend) birthday, and on the brink of dialling his number I managed to drown my phone. No, not in the toilet. But copious amounts of water were involved. Since the Angel was away I couldn’t borrow his cell phone. So far, so not so good. LSF deserves an Oscar in friendship terms but he refuses to accept any of my condolences as to his advancing years when they come late.

It gets worse. Not that long ago I acquired another friend, let’s call him MRS (most recent friend), red carpet material too, whose birthday (yesterday) I also managed not so much miss as ‘the postmaster’ putting the sock in. I had high hopes of the time zone difference giving me a leg up. No such luck. I missed midnight’s deadline.

I am not given to grovelling but needs must. With Lorna’s birthday on the horizon maybe there will be another failure notice winging its way to me.

Hugs, kisses, best wishes and Happy Birthday to everyone, past, present and future,

Unfailingly yours,


October 10, 2012

Balancing act

Filed under: Amusement — bitchontheblog @ 13:22
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Have decided to change the tune.  Stand by for white noise.

Before you panic and implore me to stay my old self: It takes approximately six weeks to change a habit and/or acquire a new taste. So there is time yet.

The question being, as yet unanswered, and no one but no one – not even the professionals – appreciate this: What do you do during those six weeks?

Answers on a postcard or write me a long letter. Or leave me alone. Godforsaken.


October 7, 2012


Filed under: Communication — bitchontheblog @ 16:29
Tags: ,

Can you please help me to save myself from myself.

Just wrote social commentary of the most inflammatory kind. Not published. Yet.

It is so difficult to know where to draw the line. What to keep to yourself. Where tact ends and truth starts.


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