Oh, Come On!

What seven weird things do you people not already know about me?!  Do you not read me?  But if both Beth and Jim are telling me to come up with some, dang it, I’ll come up with some.

1.  I have a jar full of fingernail and toenail clippings.  It’s gross, but I can’t bring myself to get rid of it because… well, I’m not sure why.  I don’t add to it or anything, but I have it and I can’t throw it out.

2.  I refuse to watch movies that might make me cry.  Life is sad enough already.  Why would I pay someone to upset me?  I can turn on my television and be upset for free.

3. It irritates me that my name is not Elizabeth.  Betsy is a fine name for a little girl and a fine name for your free-spirited grandma, but these intervening years?  I wish I had something less cutesy to fall back on professionally.

4.  My parents always thought I would go by Teckla so it wouldn’t matter if I had a cutesy first name, but I’ve developed a kind of feeling about that name, that it’s mine and I don’t want you to call me it.  I don’t want to just hear it out-loud used by normal people.

5.  I have an unnaturally deep worry that I’m crazy–I mean, full on crazy, like where my interpretation of the world is completely different than what other people interpret is happening.  And it’s always a relief to me when I say to someone “Do you remember…?” and they say “Yes,” because I worry I might be making shit up, just to entertain myself, and not realize it.

6.  I don’t understand why people eat Doritos.  I have never had a flavor of Dorito that tasted good to me and they have that weird powder that gets all over.

7.  I am left-handed!  But, I do do some stuff with my right hand–throw a ball, cut with scissors, etc.  However!  The Butcher is right handed except for the things I do with my right hand, he does with his left.

20 thoughts on “Oh, Come On!

  1. Re:

    3: my name is Elizabeth — it’s not that grand… there are a million of us….

    5. I live in FEAR of having a nervous breakdown… I would have put that on my list of stuff, but I sound bat shit crazy enough. I don’t need to throw that out there on my blog – so I’ll put it here, ha! Sometimes I think having a full-fledged meltdown would be freeing though. But I just don’t have the time… or the energy

    6. I could stick my head in a bag of Doritos each day and be perfectly happy. The cheesy kind are the only ones worth eating, however.

  2. Maybe I missed something, but why would your parents assume you would go by Teckla if that wasn’t your name? Or it is your name, but they didn’t call you by it? I’m confused.

    Also, I normally don’t like Doritos, but for some reason reading your mention of them has compelled me to go to the vending machine right now and purchase them. You might want to mention other random food products and see if it has the same effect, and then maybe pursue a sponsorship. :)

  3. Oh, sorry, Megan, I guess that doesn’t make much sense if it’s not clear that Teckla is my middle name (though, if they wanted me to go by it, you’d think that they’d have given it to me as a first name).

    Ooo. Potential sponsorships! I may make money off this blog yet!

  4. Pingback: Being In Your 40s And Having A Cheerleader Name – Newscoma

  5. Re: Three: Whereas my given name is Margaret, and yet I was always meant to be called ‘Peggy,’ because of that 50s Catholic/sain’t s name nonsense. And it’s too late to change it now. Damn the Fifties!

    Six: The only way I can have Doritos in my house is if if they’re flavors I don’t like but the boys do, like the Ranch or Blazing Buffalo somethings or Pizza thingies. That, of course, does not include the bag of Nacho Cheese I currently have hidden in the basement closet. Wait, what?

  6. I am with you on 2 all the way. I am also left-handed but severely and profoundly so. I can throw (well and accurately) with my right hand but that’s about it.

  7. I feel similarly about my middle name, like it’s some kind of secret just for me.

    I can’t really explain it, but I suspect that some day I will have to convince my husband of the importance of middle names. He doesn’t have one and doesn’t really see the point.

  8. For two parts of my life I use the last name that I took when the Mathlete and I got married, which is very English as in people who came from England not very long ago.

    I get way too much amusement from the fact that people in those parts of my life generally don’t know that in the rest of my life I use that last name plus my original last name, which is Assyrian, so when you look at it, the name is clearly not American or English or European.

    I just have to ask – are they your nail clippings or other peoples or both?

  9. Since you have a real-name confessional going here, I’ll confess:

    My parents named me Christina, which is a perfectly acceptable name, aside from being too big to comfortably use on a daily basis. So they called me “Christy.” I HATE that name. Been trying to ditch it since I was 2. I tried Tina, but that’s even less appropriate. Briefly tried my middle name, but Lynn is equally dull. And then, in high school, someone dubbed me Pixie. It stuck, it fit, and it rarely requires a last name. In my head, I call myself Pixie, even. So now, when anyone other than my mom calls me “Christy,” I kinda glaze for a bit before it occurs to me that that means me!

  10. Okay – #1 – I do not know what to make of that or if I should just ignore and go on with my little life. But I had to read it twice to make sure I read it correctly.

    #2 – WORD! (Can I say “word” especially if I’m being ironic because I’m a lame white girl?)

    #3 – It could be worse – you could have a stripper name like, say, oh… Amber. Will there ever a Supreme Court Justice named Amber? I think not.

    And strangely, like, 3/4 of the people I’ve dated have been lefties. Does that say something about lefties or me?

  11. I have the same question about the nail clippings – there has to be some kind of story there.

    Megan, my niece is called by her middle name, and has been since her birth. I have no idea why they didn’t just give her that as a first name, and always want to mumble, “Strike that-reverse it!”

  12. OOOOOO – MMMMMMM – GGGGGGGG

    AuntB, have you checked whether Howard Hughes is in your family tree? I mean… that little gem is so revealing. Fingers? In a jar? I mean… if, IF, I were given permission to do the same by my roomate person, you and I would have yet another creepy thing in common. But my roomate person thinks that’s gross.

  13. Oh no! Has your charming significant other been downgraded?!

    OR… have you guys taken on a third party?

    For the record, I find keeping one’s own finger in a jar to be less disturbing than keeping fingernails, but I believe everyone should have one trait that weird themselves out.

  14. B- And you crochet cooters! Don’t forget that! And you need to contact the artist profiled on Steven Colbert the other night–who crochets cozies for tanks and humvees… Needlework as resistance and subversion. That’s my B!

  15. I saw her motorcycle cozie! How awesome! I didn’t include my mad crochetting skills because they’ve been well-documented here already. I was trying to stick to new things.

  16. I’m an Elizabeth too, officially. Lynn is middle name. Elizabeth’s overrated, although I am (because of the uncommon last name) one of less than 10 of me in the US. Actually I think there’s only five or so of us, and only a couple with all three names.

    Pixie – yeah, I agree, Lynn is terribly dull. I always wanted to get rid of it, stick an E on the end, be Liz instead, something, anything.

  17. re: #3, why not just go by Elizabeth professionally if you want to? i know a lot of people who go by ‘chosen’ names instead of birth names, which are different than nicknames. asian people do it all the time. why can’t you?

    re: #5. i have the same exact worry, and it’s actually really confusing feeling to suddenly wonder if that thing that you remember happened or not. especially if you’ve never been proven otherwise (e.g. you’ve never asked “hey you remember this?” and someone says “no, WTF are you talking about?!), why do we keep being paranoid that you’re wrong if you never have been? i wonder what sort of anxiety/paranoia category it falls into to worry all the time that you’re reality isn’t real. it’s the opposite problem of being delusional, right?

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