Bitch on the Blog

June 7, 2014

Looking from the outside in

Filed under: Human condition — bitchontheblog @ 04:21
Tags: ,

I like myself. In idle moments I wonder how I’d feel about me should I meet myself. As experiences go (other than being a mother) it can’t be bettered. No bull. I literally wonder what I’d think of Ursula if I met her.

Insert lengthy time lapse. Trying to get my brain round it. You can’t [get your brain round it]. It’s impossible.

Anyway, before I dive into my navel (can’t thank my mother’s midwife enough – she did such a beautiful job) do let me know, if you please, how you see yourself and whether you’d like to meet yourself or rather vomit on sight.

U

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13 Comments »

  1. i suspect i initially come across as rather more dour than i really am so i probably wouldnt really enjoy meeting myself but i would continue to make an effort and eventually probably quite like me 🙂

    Comment by kylie — June 7, 2014 @ 04:42 | Reply

    • “Dour”? I don’t know. Just to make sure I looked up its meaning in the dictionary. As per definition, yes, maybe you are ‘stern’, ‘serious’. Yet there is a playful side to you which I notice you try to let loose on Tom’s aka Hippo’s site. Bastard. He doesn’t deserve your interest. He most certainly doesn’t deserve mine. Still, someone – in absence of a sister – needs to needle him. A task I recently lapsed on but will take up again asap. Nothing better than a thorn in one’s flesh to stay alert. So ‘dour’ not the word that would have come to my mind when thinking of you. I have a very clear picture of my blog’s correspondents and their nature. So much so, that (to Nick’s annoyance and, more importantly, his disbelief) I think I could pick virtually any of you out in a crowd. Even those I have not seen a visual likeness of. That’s right, Kylie, wear a red rose between your teeth and I’ll know it’s you.

      As to meeting myself that’s darned. I am in a double bind here. Obviously I know myself as best as one can know oneself. In which case I dearly hope that the adage “like likes like” holds, rather than “opposites attract”. it’s fascinating, and has become bee in my bonnet to occupy me in unoccupied moments, what I’d make of myself. The mind boggles. Think a little Kafka after a bad day in the office. Sprinkle with Sartre and stay close to a receptacle in case you start retching. Will keep you posted should I come to any of my (dreaded) conclusions.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — June 7, 2014 @ 09:20 | Reply

      • lol! you play it straight ursula!
        did you know i have met nick? he was less annoying in the flesh 😉

        Comment by kylie — June 7, 2014 @ 21:30 | Reply

  2. I was wondering too if meeting you would be different than the blog. But this trip was crazy busy and time is short, so I am about to head back to Heathrow. Maybe next time.

    Comment by Looney — June 7, 2014 @ 07:31 | Reply

    • No ‘maybe’, Looney. Definitely next time. I had no idea that business takes you to these shores.

      I won’t disappoint. I wrote “I promise” but do realize that some things are not within our power to ‘promise’. Ever the optimist I’ll promise anyway. Whilst my written prose occasionally stinging I have yet to meet a person in the flesh, whether child, adult, lunatic or on their death bed who doesn’t take to me like the proverbial duck to water Without getting wet that is. Talking of which, and looking out of the window: It’s raining. But I dare say you know that if you are on your way to Heathrow.

      Wishing you a good flight home,
      Ursula

      Comment by bitchontheblog — June 7, 2014 @ 09:01 | Reply

  3. Meeting me? Im not sure… it would depend upon my mood…… Given that I am nervous of (if not try to avoid) meeting new people I would probably avoid me. Add to that the fact that I am not a good listener……

    Comment by magpie11 — June 7, 2014 @ 10:20 | Reply

    • Yes, your assessment of yourself figures. The way I see you seeing yourself. Let other people be the ‘judge’.

      By way of comfort: You don’t have to be “a good listener”. I can talk for two – make that five, mainly because I don’t want any one to truly listen to me. Let it all wash over you, Magpie. It’ll be me with muck on my face and you smelling of roses.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — June 7, 2014 @ 11:59 | Reply

  4. I keep meeting myself very often and I like who I meet. In fact I love who I meet every time. I wish that I could be the fellow that I keep meeting.

    Comment by rummuser — June 7, 2014 @ 11:42 | Reply

    • Funny, Ramana. It’s worse for me: I do keep meeting the person I once aspired to be. Not in all her finery but rags do have their own charm. Adding colour as it were.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — June 7, 2014 @ 12:02 | Reply

  5. You could easily meet yourself by recording a video of yourself and then playing it back. I did that once at a journalism training course and I quite liked what I saw.

    Comment by nick — June 7, 2014 @ 13:32 | Reply

    • Both you, Nick, and Magpie’s comment below, miss the point of my question. I have been on stage, I have been filmed (TV), I have been photographed (for effect). That is not the YOU I am talking about. I am talking about the actual YOU, present in the room. Physically, vocally, meeting people as real as you are that moment.
      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — June 7, 2014 @ 17:01 | Reply

  6. Nick, somewhere there are videos of me teaching…… apparently used in training at some point! I watched once and pulled my lesson to pieces which amused everyone else who said that it was great and they wished that they could teach like that! Which goes to the root of this I ssupect…we’re our own greatest critics.

    Comment by magpie11 — June 7, 2014 @ 16:09 | Reply

    • Dear Magpie, if you want the “greatest critics” why not try either my youngest sister or my father. I have had it with both of them.

      Loosely linking into the original post’s theme they are so alike they haven’t been on talking terms for years. Admittedly this was my sister’s idea. Not that my father’s attitude helps. They are as bad as each other. My sister who, to my utter chagrin, I have to concede is the pits, told our father he is “unpleasant”. If it weren’t so sad it’d be funny. I, big sister, make the umpteenth attempt to mend whatever bridge my sister and I fell off and get shouted at. Phone being put down. To understand the joke: “Communication” was large writ in our family. I then – last night, via email – cry at my father’s shoulder. What do I get? A stern reprimand. Not one word of empathy. Not one. Just as my sister will put the phone down he promises me to junk any email that mentions my sister again. Dear dog in heaven. It’s almost comical how alike my father and my youngest sister are. They’ll both live to regret it. One doesn’t go about relationships as they do. Might as well dig their own graves. Which they are.

      Whatever else I may be: As of eight hours ago I have completely, formally and forever given up on the “big sister” lark. To think I could have drowned everyone (other than myself) at birth. And saved myself a lot of hassle and heartache. Not that there wasn’t a lot of joy over the years. It’s extraordinary what some people will trash. To what end?

      Very very upset,
      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — June 8, 2014 @ 02:56 | Reply


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