Bitch on the Blog

January 31, 2018

Stunted

On the whole I don’t believe it despite all evidence to the contrary. Namely that people need an “incentive”. By which I don’t just mean salesmen given a carrot so they wield their stick and charms making people buy.

I just do what needs to be done. Or (see my last post) wrestle with good intentions. And wait for both Ramana and the Angel (age before beauty) to weigh in and remind me of Karma.

Never mind. Karma is in the future. I am in the now. As one of the few people who amuses me no end is myself I am most amused. I am so happy I could kiss you. Why – apart from, maybe, you being kissable and my being happy? Bear with me.

The last few days’ fallout on various blogs have more than one benefit. Not only will I employ the last morsels of time left to me on this mortal coil in ways more conducive to everyone’s, not least my own, happiness by ditching certain bloggers. I won’t have to endure any longer, and it’s only just come to me, one commentator’s (she doesn’t blog any longer herself though is vocal in comment boxes) endless “LOL”s. To her life is just one (desperate) long loud laugh in absence of being more specific and articulate. If that isn’t an incentive for me to stop latching onto certain blogs and their comment boxes I don’t know what is. May she roll in the aisles.

LOL – Lots of love,

U

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January 30, 2018

Doing and stalling

Why is it that even a “doer” (someone who gets things done) stalls on occasion?

Remember, the French can’t pronounce aitch (“h”) so if you book a room you book it in an otel. Which is why I love French because instead of saying “I hate” (the drama of it) you find yourself saying “I ate it, I ate it, I ate it!” May indigestion be ours.

And that is, so I believe, where the crux lies. You stall because you, maybe not so much as “ate” it, but you sure don’t want to eat it. Which, neatly, brings us to one of my pet subjects, no not pet “ates” – just an inconvenience, namely self sabotage.

Why oh why oh why, wise ones?

U

January 29, 2018

Retort

I received an email (from a long time blogging acquaintance) telling me how judgmental I am. If that’s how I come across that’s something for me to reflect on. Not least reflect on whether it is a bad thing to “judge” considering that our survival instinct guides us on how to “judge” a situation, a person, and then figure out how we can outwit the hungry tiger staring us in the face. She further devalues her comment by proceeding to not only “shake her head” at one of my previous (private, but played out on my blog) follies. Don’t let a thief tell me not to thieve.

The term “judgmental” is an overused one. It is, usually, a lazy way of expressing displeasure at me daring to dangle a question mark. It’s an even lazier way of not addressing an issue. To illustrate: I say something which you find overcritical. Whether it is or isn’t is immaterial – as long as you find it so, it is. So far so not particularly fair. Whatever. But please do not turn around and point a finger at me whilst doing what you just told me not to do.

There is a marvellous saying (one of many) in the motherland, loosely translated: Touch your own nose ┬ábefore pointing out the kink in someone else’s.

U

 

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