Bitch on the Blog

April 20, 2017

Ship shape

Filed under: Amusement,Dizzy,Happiness,Psychology — bitchontheblog @ 15:34
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Don’t ask for my star sign since I do not wish you running to the hills, screaming and abandoning me. There are only twelve months in the year and someone has to occupy one of them. Well. Never mind. On which painful note: Father of son who is a Gemini through no fault of his own would leave the table (forget any guests) as soon as the subject turned to astrology which – invariably – when his sister was present it would. On the whole I had him down as rational with a sense of largely absent humour – but give him astrology, Catholicism and Americans and you have another thing coming. This is not withstanding that for the last twenty odd years he has been married to a Catholic American who is interested in astrology (no not me – my successor who, on succession, became a good friend of mine). She is a miracle worker.

Yes, so this post has nothing whatever to do with astrology (of which please do tell me what you think) but all to do with the fact that I like chaos. Chartered chaos, organized chaos, gentle disorder by another name. Why? Because (being the star sign I am) little gives me more satisfaction than making order out of the aforesaid dire. Both my desk and my study/office in general are witness to this. I let books and papers pile up till they make more waves than me being at sea. Sweethearts, oh the satisfaction, as – just now – when I blitz the place.

i can’t tell you how marvellous it is to suddenly spring into action of the most ruthless kind – my waste paper bin my most loyal friend, books flying back onto their shelves, documents filed. I don’t know if my theory holds water or seeps but there is something deeply zen like about tidying, putting everything where it belongs. However, and this is where a (dis)orderly cat chases its own tail – in order to experience this you first have to let it all go to pot. But then, by way of illustration, never does food taste better than when truly hungry.



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

January 31, 2010

In the gutter

Filed under: Despair,Fortune,Happiness — bitchontheblog @ 05:18
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Just checked on what I call my Horror Scope. Do so at your peril. I don’t know what’s worse: Hopes being raised or dashed before you have so much as set a foot outside the house. Anticipation of  what the stars have in store for you being roughly on par with raised adrenaline level (which is why I don’t drink coffee).

And no, I am not talking offerings in newspapers or magazines. This is serious stuff: A reputable source going into so much detail as to heighten my potential of being reduced to a quivering wreck. My horror scope is tailored to the place and exact time of  my birth, as far as my mother can remember it.  She claims, and I tease her about the inaccuracy, that two of her children were born on the hour, two at half the hour. I bet my bottom Euro that I was at least five minutes earlier or later.  Of course, in her day,  giving birth was not an exact science. Another  horror within scope: Imagine the midwife’s watch being fast or slow. All your life you will labour under false expectations as to what will happen to you next Friday, and more importantly, who you really are in the eyes of cosmic constellations.

So let’s hope Mercury who has ability to mess things up big time will be retrograde any moment now.

May your stars twinkle on all you little specks of dust out there and may we live to see next Friday (if only to prove the forecast right).


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