I have decided I do not want to live the rest of my life with the name Andrea. I'm sick of it. Also, it has recently come to my attention that the name means "warrior," and since I am a pacifist who is against war, against violence, have never hit anyone, cannot kill a bug, and refuse to see any Brian de Palma film, it seems wrong for me. So I chose a new name that seems much more fun, less serious, and not at all depressed. I will now answer to Trixie.
This decision has caused consternation among several people who shall remain nameless--ha ha, no pun intended. The real issue is what our name says to the world about us and how it makes us feel about ourselves. Does someone named Adolf want to kill Jews? How about an Elvis--does he sing and sway his hips? Is every Mary boring? And why can't we choose our own names anyway?
I was named by my mother, who despite a native intelligence was clueless, a fact that is becoming more obvious to me every day. For starters, she was in a theater watching a horror movie when she went into labor with me. Who goes to the movies when they are that far along? And since she was hoping for a boy the name Andrew was all picked out, but then I arrived and she just went with Andrea, the female "version" of a male name. As for my middle name, she drew a complete blank and went with the month of my birth, mostly because my older sister's middle name was Mae, and so coming up with June seemed easy enough. I was ten years old before I realized that my sister's birthday is in November and that everyone's middle name is not the month they were born.
Everyone should just be named "Baby" Whatever until they are old enough to exhibit some personality traits, and then let them name themselves. At least, that's what Trixie thinks.
No comments:
Post a Comment