Bitch on the Blog

June 13, 2013


Filed under: Punctuation — bitchontheblog @ 16:46
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My blog’s purpose is not to depress anyone. If you want someone to depress you please do look no further than to those who want to abolish apostrophes.

However, I am running out of time. I cannot believe that I have already lived as long as I have lived. I am a spring chicken compared to some. Still. I now measure everything not in cats’ years but in my son’s years. One minute, like yesterday, he was conceived, the next he was born, now he is 21 and a few months. I am incredulous. If time keeps pushing on like this I’ll be dead soon. So will he. I don’t like it. And don’t try and say anything nice like ‘pull up your socks”. I don’t wear socks. Though would love braces. But – being all skirts and dresses – braces are of no use either.



January 19, 2011

Death row


Anyone who only thrives on fun, games and the world being the hilarious place you claim it to be please go away now and watch the news instead.

Earlier, as promised over at Con’s, I went out. I am, always have been, an ardent believer in the powers of “walking”. Walking clears you mind, helps you memorise facts, fiction and poetry. That wonderful time when you stride or slink or stop every two seconds to admire something on the way, or have your nose and eyes up in the sky till you find yourself falling into that little excuse of a river you had forgotten about? Take my word for it: It’s good. Even when it’s bad.

This afternoon was BAD in a bad way. Have realised something about myself which I will NOT “share” this minute with anyone until my son comes home. He knows good news when he sees them in my eyes. It’s so embarrassing I might have to take my findings to my grave. That’s why you should never trust autobiographies: They are heavily edited. And biographies are next to useless – even if I say so myself since I love reading them – because I know, for a fact, that should anyone ever attempt mine, they will know little of what really went on in my head. It’ll be pure fiction. Speculation. Psycho rubbish conjecture babble.

Veering off the original subject: Parks.

To cut to the chase: I managed to make a mega arse of myself. Don’t smirk. Think back to the last time you did  if you can remember it, and if you ever; the latter unlikely since most of you have managed to give me impression of being the upright wonderful human beings without a flaw to the every fibre you are (that does not include the guy who makes nuisance calls to Lady Con at 5 in the morning – maybe it’s Lord Con testing the waters. Worse ruses have been applied. Should you be interested I will re-tell a centuries old Italian novella in which a couple tested their being faithful to each other in a macabre and rather roundabout way. Let’s just say: Don’t. You’ll regret it; particularly if you are the man.)

Fresh air and movement – in the fancyful words of that detestable yet to be admired O’Hara woman as played by Vivien Leigh: Tomorrow is another day. Let’s hope it’s one during which I can mend my ways.


PS Have unearthed more material on punctuation. Magpie must have hung up his cloak since he is unexpectedly quiet on the subject. What I have found out is that in English “Doppelpunkt” (that’s Conrad) is ‘colon’. Which makes zero sense: It’s  points – two of them. Double. On top of each other. Like a high rise building. Anyway this will keep since, whilst the fork ran away with the spoon, an apostrophe is unlikely to leave this country and its language’s delightful intricacies. Mwah

January 17, 2011

Cutting a dash


Yes, BHB, same here. Questionmarks.

In fact it would make a good subject for Jean over at her Stress to Power: “If you were a piece of punctuation which one would best describe you?” Ramana might make a useful full stop. Fullstops are full of importance. If we didn’t have them what would stop us? Can you imagine going on and on and on only interrupted by the odd semi-colon? Yes, so can I. I like semi colons. Though am aware that they are half way houses. Neither a fullstop, nor a comma. Semi-colons are for people who can’t commit to an end. And then there are exclamation marks. Trouble with them: They are noisy. They are the punctuation equivalent of being kicked in the shin: Listen to me, listen to me! Yes, I am listening. For god’s sake turn down the volume. That’s why it’s so soothing to talk to David. His voice is velvet. Being of a practical bend I like commas. They are no-nonsense, have a purpose in life which they will – unstintingly – serve. Conrad is difficult to place: Maybe he’d be best suited to being “ein Doppelpunkt”, ie : Two for one key’s click. Also, where there is a Doppelpunkt there is hope. Ein Doppelpunkt leads you down a winding path towards yet another gate, into delights hidden from first view. Beware, BHB, any moment now, I’ll be back to keys. When I obsess about something bad news follow. At least I have now largely forgotten red Bambi, though new Bambi is still in its packaging.

By his own admission, Magpie is fond of ellipsisses (what a plural) … The ellipsis too leads you up a  path, never knowing what to expect. One of the reasons I suspect Magpie to be a Libran (Apple of my Eye is)). Remember: Never give a libran a choice. They are hopeless at making a decision. And once they have made one they’ll agonize over whether it was the right one. Quite a spectacle. I am now inching my way away from punctuation and on to the subject most hated by father of my son – apart from religion – ie astrology, I suspect Conrad to either be a Virgo or a Leo. Even if neither is his sun sign, one of them will feature large in his chart. The intricacies of which I will explain if so desired. Yes, astrology. Father of son has most amazing aversion to the subject. We are talking an extremely polite public school educated gentleman (my mother still has not forgiven me that I divorced him some 15 years ago) yet bring up that subject and he will leave the table – abruptly. Quite shocking really. Last time – since there were many guests who took to the subject like the proverbial – I had to fashion Son into peace delegation with mission to coax his father out of the bathroom; leverage being my promise that by the time he came down I’d have managed to change the subject.

At least there is one certainty in my life and that is that you, BHB, are a piscean. And I won’t gut you.

What about GM – apart from the fact that she too is a Piscean. Isn’t it amazing that water runs through your fingers as elusive as quicksilver? Which reminds me, Jean: PB (plumbum) being my favourite element on account of its name (PB also my sister’s initials). Yes, GM; am now running out of appropriate punctuation symbols. She is not a hyphen. Dear God in heaven, by Jove I’ve got it. Forget what I said upstairs: GM is the fullstop, Ramana is the quotation marks, either end.

Dear sweet gaelikaa; I think of her and immediately emit an audible sigh. I thank my stars that she isn’t my sister (not because of the phone bill since I have one of those deals that allow me to phone round the world without it costing me a penny) but because she causes me great concern. So many conflicts of interest. How she copes with that live-in-family-in-law I do not know. More than one woman in the kitchen is one woman too many. The kitchen is the heart of a home, it’s the powerhouse, it’s the command centre, it’s where people look for you first (second, as long as your kids are still little, is the toilet). Talking of which, my youngest sister, the one who looks like gaelikaa, put her foot down when it came to toiletting. In fact we came to blows because she’d shut (and lock) the loo door leaving her daughter Charlotte wailing outside. Cornelia asserted her right to go to the loo in peace; I asserted that children couldn’t give a shit other than that they don’t like to be separated from their mother. That tells you all you need to know, and also why my son is the most even tempered and sanest human being I have ever come across. He didn’t even cry when he was born. Can you imagine being born to a woman whose first words you hear are: “Why is he not crying? Why is he not crying?” Because, he is a Libran. That’s why. Fool.

One of you will be a hyphen. Decide for yourself. Maybe Jean, since she likes to connect. I myself would be flattered to be considered a dash (defined as a pause) and of course it’s straight which so appeals to both my sense of beauty and the aesthetic.

What a waste of space.

We need an apostrophe. Any volunteers?


PS To be continued

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