Tuesday, August 01, 2006

What's in a name?

I have neglected to mention one of the residents of the House of Crazy: my husband. Those of you who know me may be wondering when I got divorced and remarried. No, my husband’s name is not Jack. Nor are my children named JJ and The Peanut, in case you wanted to know.

My husband has always been incredibly supportive of me. Everyone deserves at least one person in her life who thinks she’s utterly fabulous; I’m so lucky to have him. When I first mentioned starting a blog, he was 100% behind the idea. But then I wrote my first post, and he kind of freaked out. “I’m not sure this blog thing is such a great idea. There are all sorts of weirdos out there, you know.”

It’s hard to argue with that, so we agreed that I’d give everyone pseudonyms. Personally, I’m more worried about my family or my in-laws stumbling across this blog than some random “weirdo.” I realize that this horrific event may still occur even if I attempt anonymity—in fact, it recently happened to a friend. But I’m trying not to worry about that. If I’m going to delve into my craziness, I’ve got to be able to talk smack about my relatives.

So then we had to come up with names. The Peanut was easy because, well, she's a peanut. My son was harder. We had a billion nicknames for him when he was a baby, but when he got older, he decided he hated all of them and only wanted to be called by his own name. (Which is actually a nickname, but please don’t tell him that.)

I told my husband he had to come up with his own pseudonym. He chose “Santiago,” which I rejected on the grounds that I would laugh my ass off every time I typed it. Picture if you will a man named Santiago. Now imagine the exact opposite of that, and you’ll have my husband.

None of his other offerings was any better, so I suggested “Jack.” Jack’s a standup-kind-of-guy name. You could have a few beers with Jack, go to a ballgame with Jack. You could even ask Jack to help you move. Jack’s the kind of guy you could marry and have kids with. So Jack it is.

I got sick of trying to come up with a pseudonym for my son, so I settled on JJ. For Jack, Jr. Or Julius Jingleheimerschmidt. Your choice. Yeah, I know it’s not very creative, but too bad. We had a tough enough time coming up with his real name.

Now I suppose I should come up with a name for myself. “Stephaniepoo” is out. (Sorry, Green!) Any other ideas?

1 comment:

Green said...

Guys named Jack are hot. Good choice. I vote for you using the name you wished your name was when you were a little girl. Or the name you'd want to use if you went into the Witness Relocation Program. Or Lily, because it's soft and strong all at the same time, like you.