okay, first. yes, it's been something like 2 months since i updated. grad school has eaten my life. also? no one is reading this thing anyway. who am i explaining this to, exactly? i think there is not one soul actually reading the words in this blog. sure, i'd love to be one of those people who has enough of a life to warrant lots of readers and comments on exciting and interesting entries, but the fact of the matter is i'm dullsville. all i do is schoolwork, clean my house, spend time with my husband and my friends, and read or watch tv for fun. seriously...i am milquetoast. i could bore myself to sleep. seriozzzzzzzzz.....
sorry. i'll try to stay awake for the remainder of this post. again, not that anyone will know.
it occurs to me that broadcasting how tedious my life is probably won't gain me any readers. counterproductive and all that. hmm. too late now. forge ahead!
so, names. what's in a name? that which we call mary or bob or dinah...or kinley or eammon or diaquanisha. i found this bad baby names site and spent more time than i care to admit laughing over the poor choices some people made for the thing their children will be saddled with forever. people make crazy decisions when it comes to naming their kids. i admit that i have a bit of a name hangup. i have a unique name which, despite being only four letters long, manages to get mangled more often than not. i've been brian, baria, maria, mary, brianne, brianna, hey you, what's-her-face and, my personal favorite...brain. yes, like the organ. let me explain. when thomas bought my engagement ring, somehow the lifetime warranty for the diamond ended up in my name. don't ask me how. we got engaged in march of 2010. per the warranty, i have to get the ring examined and cleaned every six months. i go into the jeweler's in september, about two weeks before the wedding, and the clerk can't find any warranty information in either my name or his. she finally manages to find it based on the date he purchased the ring, completes the inspection, and prints a copy of the report out for me. as she is cleaning my ring, i glance down at the piece of paper in my hand. clear as day, in giant letters next to 'name', it says:
KITCHENS, BRAIN
how did that even happen? in order for me to process this, i have to assume that the person who entered the information thought my name was brian and that 'brain' was a typo. now, i'm all for gay marriage (human rights should be equal rights, damnit), but my ring band seems awfully tiny in comparison to a man's hand. i could be wrong, though, and my seven-and-a-quarter size fingers could be a more common men's size than i think. my best point of reference is my husband, and he has giant fingers, so that's no help. (seriously, his wedding band is like a size twelve.) i asked the clerk if the spelling of my name could be corrected, and after she stopped laughing, she said no because everything was being tracked under that name with the diamond company and she didn't have the power to change it. so now i'm brain, proud owner of an inspection-passing diamond ring.
i can never find my name on any of those personalized items, either. not that i'm dying for a pencil or keyring with my name on it, but it's principle. and what does it mean? who knows. depending on which ultra accurate naming website i look at, it either means 'noble, strong and virtuous', 'hill', or my personal favorite, 'name not found'.
moral of the story: be conscious of the name you give to a person. and don't name a kid after a body part.
(for the record: charlotte grace, molly kate, harper elizabeth. liam thomas, andrew james. those are the names we've considering for our future offspring. though i may choose to sneak appendix jane onto that list.)
