Bitch on the Blog

July 10, 2013

Help yourself – generously

Filed under: Amusement — bitchontheblog @ 09:50
Tags: , , , , , , ,

The worst gets worser: Have turned into that which I detest. Yes, a self help guru. Not that I want to help myself. I have friends who do that. No, I want to help you, dear sweet Reader.

Every self help starts with a question. Mine today, and to be serious for a moment, this is not as fruitless as it looks at first glance: Cast your mind back to school: Which subject did you detest most? And why? Which one did send you into spasms of yawns so wide you feared jaw lock? Which one did you bunk at risk of being sent to headmistress’ office? How creative were your excuses if you needed one? Were you ever marked down as a liar when, in truth, you had told the truth? Did you ever write one hundred lines or delegated it to someone gullible who was in awe of you and your foot print? Last but not least, and please do not answer this in the affirmative because you’ll go down the greasy pole of my esteem: Did you chew your pencils?




  1. I am not being facetious. I detested school and every subject except Art. Only one teacher ever understood me and I have written about her in my post on Puppy Love. She was the only one I know, apart from my mother, who simply said that I was a late starter and that I will bloom later. That happened.

    Don’t ask me how I managed to pass out of school. Up to the last year when promotion to the next class was an internal school matter, I managed to squeak through thanks to some examination passing tricks that a tutor specially hired for that purpose taught. I failed to get my matriculation certificate, a public examination on first attempt and had to take special coaching again to get that very important qualification. I have written about that too in my post on my first kiss.

    This is also one of the reasons for my maintaining that events have just been overtaking me all my life. I have done nothing.

    Comment by Rummuser — July 10, 2013 @ 11:34 | Reply

    • “I have done nothing”. Oh, Ramana, that’s what one of my bestest friends (age 17) used to say to our French teacher. No wonder he has since disappeared to Canada, no doubt felling trees.

      Funny the perception we have of others: I never had you down as a ‘swot’ unlike one or two other people I could mention. I thought of you drifting through school – dream like. Cloud Nine: “Talking to me? What was the question?”


      Comment by bitchontheblog — July 10, 2013 @ 12:04 | Reply

      • No, I didn’t quite have to fell trees, but I have done some other mundane things like clerk and translate from Hindi to English correspondence, standing in for site supervisors in a construction site, parking huge trucks etc, It surprises me as to how eventually I took to studying for the pleasure of learning.

        Comment by Rummuser — July 10, 2013 @ 13:26 | Reply

  2. I detested language … and especially grammar.

    Comment by Looney — July 10, 2013 @ 12:35 | Reply

    • Poor poor Looney, sucker for punishment. Appears you got your (just) desserts.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — July 10, 2013 @ 12:58 | Reply

  3. Learning languages–YUCK! It started with French in high school but my minor in college was French. That’s because I read in a diary of Mother’s before she was married that she wanted her children to speak another language —& play an instrument. Organ was my major because though I’d taken piano from 1st grade through high school I KNEW I didn’t want to do that.

    She never said this. I only read it in a diary after she died. That’s another subject. Maybe a book.BTW i admire greatly anyone who speaks another language. That’s you Ursula & Ramana (er Rummuser).

    Comment by bikehikebabe66 — July 10, 2013 @ 14:00 | Reply

    • P.S. I forgot. I spent a month at a school in Sweden to learn the language because my daughter lives there. I was a complete flop.

      Comment by bikehikebabe66 — July 10, 2013 @ 14:07 | Reply

      • Being a “flop” becomes you, Cynthia.

        Truth is: There is one way and one way only to learn a foreign language: Be dropped in at the deep end and having to make a living two days after you have set foot onto that soil. My first job in England was a two months temporary one which didn’t stop my manager giving me this reference: “During her period with us, albeit a brief one, she proved herself to be a diligent and efficient employee. Her tasks within our very busy department were many and varied … Her fluency, both written and spoken, in English was exceptionally good and it is, therefore, a matter of sorrow that we had to lose her.” A matter of sorrow, Cynthia? How sweet is that?

        Next brief pit stop was the BBC, and then and for several years I worked for the most magnificent woman, Maggie. She must have had a sense of humoUr to employ me. Love her. One of life’s great guys.

        Ever since that, forgotten the name, of the TV series (subtitled) am dead set on learning Danish. Which makes more sense than Looney’s Hebrew. Though someone pointed out to me that no one, other than the Danish, speak Danish.


        PS Never read anyone’s diary. You will live to regret it.

        Comment by bitchontheblog — July 10, 2013 @ 15:53 | Reply

    • BHB, Nice to be admired greatly, Thank you. In India, to survive you need to be able to fluently speak at least two Indian languages. On top of that, thanks to the Brits, English is vital. Almost all middle class Indians will be proficient in at least two Indian languages and English.

      Comment by Rummuser — July 11, 2013 @ 01:08 | Reply

  4. When I was young and in elementary school, I would say I feared Reading and Writing, because my parents were immigrants and English was not their native tongue. My parents fixed that phobia however by soliciting the local Convent of Nuns attached to the Parish. Sister Theresa was dispatched to my aid. We spent countless hours as she taught me to love the English language (even if English means American English…) That might be a good topic for a blog entry for me – another of a chain of guardian angels that influenced and shaped my character.

    Later on in my studies, I found Music in High School to be boring, as I was well beyond the introductory levels due to taking lessons privately for piano. My own private teacher (that famous Rudy) would roll his eyes in mock contempt for what passed as music appreciation being taught in my High School. I realizes that it comes across as a bit of snobbery, but really, I hated spending every minute in that class. I don’t know if it was the topic being too watered down, or the instructor, who had the ability to make a room full of corpses wish they could revive, if only to flee his presence. Seriously!

    Comment by Phil — July 10, 2013 @ 14:56 | Reply

    • Don’t know who’s funnier, you or Ursula. Maybe a toss-up. Maybe you get the prize.

      Comment by bikehikebabe66 — July 10, 2013 @ 15:16 | Reply

      • What is mine is Phil’s. However: What’s the prize before I let him accept it?


        Comment by bitchontheblog — July 10, 2013 @ 15:58 | Reply

    • I am so jealous of Sister Theresa having your wide eyed and undiluted attention. Never have I shaped anyone’s character. Anyone coming my way usually fully formed. That includes my son.

      Music. So dear to your heart. So far from my ears. Though will blast at full volume when silence needs to be interrupted. My school didn’t have ambitions stretching as far as your music “appreciation”. You were appreciated just for turning up. I liked Frau Koenig. And that she was: A queen. After doing her day job (teaching imbeciles) she’d sing opera in the evening. Throwing great parties afterwards. There was little I wouldn’t have done for her. So I sang. Because she thought I could sing. I don’t like singing. Still.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — July 10, 2013 @ 16:09 | Reply

      • Now you’ve done it Ursula. So you mention Frau Koenig, clearly a German. Then you add in she is a Queen, and then something about Opera and Evening. Well, now all I can think about is this character, a Queen of the Night. A rather strong and pushy mother figure definitely shaping a character:

        “Der Hölle Rache” from Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte, as sung by another German Frau, Diana Damrau

        Perhaps it’s a good thing she didn’t ask you to kill off her rival…

        Comment by Phil — July 10, 2013 @ 19:02 | Reply

        • Phil, you have tapped into that which I am glad to leave lying dormant: Revenge. I don’t have it in my heart. Not least because it wouldn’t change anything. Waste of time and resources.

          Mind you, no offence to Diana Damrau (after all, who wouldn’t wish to hit the elusive ‘F’): Never trust anyone with close set eyes.


          Comment by bitchontheblog — July 11, 2013 @ 17:13 | Reply

  5. Physics
    I was thick as shit

    Comment by John — July 10, 2013 @ 22:20 | Reply

    • “As thick as shit”, John? Na. I don’t believe a word of it.

      Glad you didn’t say ‘biology’. What with all your menagerie. My biology teacher was the bee’s knees. (Talking as a seventeen year old. I guess he must have been 29). Not that I would have touched him with a barge pole or put him under my microscope. He was a bastard bar none. One of those wolves prowling, pretending to be goat.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — July 11, 2013 @ 17:20 | Reply

  6. Calculus – my math brain stopped after Geometry. I didn’t have to work hard enough in other classes to dislike them as school came pretty easy to me. Classes were a necessary evil between me and whatever seasonal sports activity I was involved in.

    Comment by Chuck McConvey — July 11, 2013 @ 13:53 | Reply

    • My math teacher is dead now. Just justice has been served. May he turn in his grave.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — July 11, 2013 @ 17:22 | Reply

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