randomly, i started thinking about the places i've lived. no reason, really. i remembered little things like how kota the barfy dog's hair used to clump and lay dormant under the couch when i lived on tendoy. and i remembered opening the door to leave my eagle pointe apartment and there was stinky vomit on the balcony railing from the boys living above us. and then i remembered...
i used to live in a yellow house.
off warm springs.
and the name of the street was...
total blank.
i mean, it's no big deal to space out and not remember things, right? happens all the time, right? WRONG. i mean, this was a place i slept at. a place i invited people over to. a place i used to receive mail at and--therefore--must have known the address, including the elusive street name. how could i forget something like that?
what other things have i just forgotten about? did they bring me joy? did i vow to remember them? were they shared with someone-- or was i the only known observer/participator in the event? are those memories now gone forever--like poof, all scents and colors and flutterings of heart are banished to the realm of forgotten, never to be thought of again?
and what else remains to be forgotten?
21 March 2010
01 January 2010
what 2009 has taught me
another year. another year? ANOTHER YEAR? rather than descending into a hawthorne-esque exploration of humanity's innate depravity, i will indulge you with 9 life lessons i have learned from my most disappointing/depressing year to date:
1. i cannot ignore certain things.
i'd like to. and i do for the most part. earlier this year, i found myself sitting alone in a corner with no lights on contemplating what a worthless, uncontributing member of society i truly am; so i turned to good friends Journal, Vodka, and Guitar Hero. there is a dark place inside us all, but i linger there way too often-- pretending i'm really at a britney concert in a pink sparkly dress-- and it must stop.
2. acid-reflux is one big meanie.
so eat your dairy, kids.
3. it's okay to give second chances.
i disagree with house; people do change. a year point five ago, my now-boyfriend treated me (and himself) like crap. since june '09, we both respect each other, (try to) spoil each other, and are the happiest we've been in years. and i got a shiny diamond ring for christmas to symbolize his promise to be a better person and his commitment to our relationship.
4. my family loves me.
i can be a difficult person to love sometimes. i'm stubborn. i'm independent. i'm almost perpetually annoyed. but that's so 2009. and if i decide to resort back to my old demons, i know my family will be there with chocolate donuts, laundry soap, and a new lamp (so i won't sit in the dark anymore) to proffer. and yes, my mother has shown up on my doorstep with all of those items+ at some point.
5. i miss school.
on my first day of kindergarten, i woke my parents up in the early AM-- fully dressed and wearing my backpack-- to ask when i could go to school. in 2009, a small chunk of my heart twanged when i admitted to already having a degree and that i was no longer in school. while i am truly appreciative of my education, i am not truly satisfied with my MA. i miss absorbing new information day after day-- whether from a text first-hand or from a fellow student sharing his/her insights. i miss studying the world around me and emerging with a clearer understanding of our relations to the past, present, and future.
6. i write way more when i'm most insane.
which makes me wonder what danielle steele is really like.
7. TV is for watching.
i bought a 32" flat-screen LCD TV with my first paycheck last june and have thoroughly enjoyed delving into the colorful, fast-speaking world of "pushing daisies" and the sweaty, intelligent mind of engineer-turned-prisoner michael scofield in "prison break" and the awesome, legen-wait for it-dary life of barney in "how i met your mother." yes, i realize all of the afore-listed shows are either cancelled or well into their 5th season, but i caught on a little late, OK? i love TV and i'm sorry i ever said anything different.
8. social networks are bomb.
in 2009, i posted my first tweet on twitter. i also subscribed to an internet plan on my blackberry. i like feeling connected to others, even if it is only through black text and blurry cell phone photos. i share my insights and daily happenings in hopes that others can relate, react, and tell all their friends how cool i am.
9. you don't always get what you want.
and you rarely get what you need. no one is just handed everything they want and need in life. we have to work for what we deserve in life. this past year's crumminess is in large part due to my decisions or lack thereof; but i think i've paid for it, and i'm ready to move on. i'm done wallowing in my own pathetic pity of "well, i couldn't control x or y or z." there are some things you can't control. obviously. but what you can, do. and do it well.
1. i cannot ignore certain things.
i'd like to. and i do for the most part. earlier this year, i found myself sitting alone in a corner with no lights on contemplating what a worthless, uncontributing member of society i truly am; so i turned to good friends Journal, Vodka, and Guitar Hero. there is a dark place inside us all, but i linger there way too often-- pretending i'm really at a britney concert in a pink sparkly dress-- and it must stop.
2. acid-reflux is one big meanie.
so eat your dairy, kids.
3. it's okay to give second chances.
i disagree with house; people do change. a year point five ago, my now-boyfriend treated me (and himself) like crap. since june '09, we both respect each other, (try to) spoil each other, and are the happiest we've been in years. and i got a shiny diamond ring for christmas to symbolize his promise to be a better person and his commitment to our relationship.
4. my family loves me.
i can be a difficult person to love sometimes. i'm stubborn. i'm independent. i'm almost perpetually annoyed. but that's so 2009. and if i decide to resort back to my old demons, i know my family will be there with chocolate donuts, laundry soap, and a new lamp (so i won't sit in the dark anymore) to proffer. and yes, my mother has shown up on my doorstep with all of those items+ at some point.
5. i miss school.
on my first day of kindergarten, i woke my parents up in the early AM-- fully dressed and wearing my backpack-- to ask when i could go to school. in 2009, a small chunk of my heart twanged when i admitted to already having a degree and that i was no longer in school. while i am truly appreciative of my education, i am not truly satisfied with my MA. i miss absorbing new information day after day-- whether from a text first-hand or from a fellow student sharing his/her insights. i miss studying the world around me and emerging with a clearer understanding of our relations to the past, present, and future.
6. i write way more when i'm most insane.
which makes me wonder what danielle steele is really like.
7. TV is for watching.
i bought a 32" flat-screen LCD TV with my first paycheck last june and have thoroughly enjoyed delving into the colorful, fast-speaking world of "pushing daisies" and the sweaty, intelligent mind of engineer-turned-prisoner michael scofield in "prison break" and the awesome, legen-wait for it-dary life of barney in "how i met your mother." yes, i realize all of the afore-listed shows are either cancelled or well into their 5th season, but i caught on a little late, OK? i love TV and i'm sorry i ever said anything different.
8. social networks are bomb.
in 2009, i posted my first tweet on twitter. i also subscribed to an internet plan on my blackberry. i like feeling connected to others, even if it is only through black text and blurry cell phone photos. i share my insights and daily happenings in hopes that others can relate, react, and tell all their friends how cool i am.
9. you don't always get what you want.
and you rarely get what you need. no one is just handed everything they want and need in life. we have to work for what we deserve in life. this past year's crumminess is in large part due to my decisions or lack thereof; but i think i've paid for it, and i'm ready to move on. i'm done wallowing in my own pathetic pity of "well, i couldn't control x or y or z." there are some things you can't control. obviously. but what you can, do. and do it well.
12 November 2009
today is today and is never going to happen again.
listen:
i'm still struggling with the glaring reality that i have nothing interesting to contribute to the internet world of blogging. that, and i haven't written anything of note for months so i'm frighteningly (more) self-conscious about every keystroke combination. i am ashamed.
so let's start off random i suppose:
- i recently purchased the most expensive bottle of lotion in my spending history. which, really, is not that much. like $7. i know. gasp. but i swear it works: curel ultimate healing in the blue bottle.
- scentsy is awesome. i scoffed at its promise to deliver "scent-sational" smells in 6" tall pots. as i inhale the delicate yet refreshing scent of pima cotton from my raised-dot daisy warmer, i point and laugh at my inner skeptic.
- my betta toby is not a killer fish like i originally thought. carl the black mystery snail is just a lazy slug that hibernates for weeks (upside down) at the bottom of the tank. i'm both relieved and somewhat disappointed that murder in my apartment will just have to occur at some other point in time.
- my mother informed me last week that she was very upset and disappointed that i recently donated all my size 00 and 0 jeans and xxs/xs(/and yes some small...) shirts to the goodwill. her comment was as follows: "all you have to do is lose some weight. what, 20 pounds?"
- november 21 marks my one year anniversary in my lovely apartment. if i could, i would give it a hug.
- i used to think i dated needy boys that just needed attention, needed praise, needed affection, needed time, needed all that mushy stuff, etc. while there may be some truth to that, i've painfully analyzed my unwillingness to supply such needs and have concluded that my heart is about thisbig. solution: feel more. it's hard. really hard. but i have to do it before i end up self-confined in a safely sealed room-- alone.
let's hope my attitude reflects a little less of this:
and more of this:
i'm still struggling with the glaring reality that i have nothing interesting to contribute to the internet world of blogging. that, and i haven't written anything of note for months so i'm frighteningly (more) self-conscious about every keystroke combination. i am ashamed.
so let's start off random i suppose:
- i recently purchased the most expensive bottle of lotion in my spending history. which, really, is not that much. like $7. i know. gasp. but i swear it works: curel ultimate healing in the blue bottle.
- scentsy is awesome. i scoffed at its promise to deliver "scent-sational" smells in 6" tall pots. as i inhale the delicate yet refreshing scent of pima cotton from my raised-dot daisy warmer, i point and laugh at my inner skeptic.
- my betta toby is not a killer fish like i originally thought. carl the black mystery snail is just a lazy slug that hibernates for weeks (upside down) at the bottom of the tank. i'm both relieved and somewhat disappointed that murder in my apartment will just have to occur at some other point in time.
- my mother informed me last week that she was very upset and disappointed that i recently donated all my size 00 and 0 jeans and xxs/xs(/and yes some small...) shirts to the goodwill. her comment was as follows: "all you have to do is lose some weight. what, 20 pounds?"
- november 21 marks my one year anniversary in my lovely apartment. if i could, i would give it a hug.
- i used to think i dated needy boys that just needed attention, needed praise, needed affection, needed time, needed all that mushy stuff, etc. while there may be some truth to that, i've painfully analyzed my unwillingness to supply such needs and have concluded that my heart is about thisbig. solution: feel more. it's hard. really hard. but i have to do it before i end up self-confined in a safely sealed room-- alone.
let's hope my attitude reflects a little less of this:
and more of this:
26 July 2009
leave out all the rest
dramatic statement: my life fell apart in december 2008.
philosophical statement: whatever "normal" used to be cannot be again.
reflective statement: i half-heartedly attempted to find "normality" because i was scared of yet more disappointment when i settled into a "normal" life.
depressing statement: 2009 is the worst year of my life, hands down.
enlightening statement: i'm currently content and feel absolutely no desire to sabotage all that's good around me.
i realize this blog is very self-centered. i'm not sure why my life is important enough to deserve internet space, but i've decided to accept this small limelight and promote why i think this world is a good place to invest in (see my earlier hemingway post for that literary allusion).
in many ways, my life has just been one big circle: i've returned to the medical field as a pharmacy tech, i've returned to a boy only to be (un)comfortably taken with his late night hottub conversations and beautiful lips, and i've returned to enjoying the little highlights of my day.
sure, i wish i was still friends with so-and-so. sure, i wish my moody days of self-inflicted apartment quarantine didn't result in mass consumptions of pasta and ice cream. but you know what. i like that i "held out" for a job i enjoy, that my boyfriend spent over 2 hours giving me beta fish advice at 3 different pet stores before finally purchasing lovely little toby with me, and that i feel monetarily stable enough to run my AC this summer.
don't worry, i still listen to britney spears. there are some things that just aren't worth the change.
philosophical statement: whatever "normal" used to be cannot be again.
reflective statement: i half-heartedly attempted to find "normality" because i was scared of yet more disappointment when i settled into a "normal" life.
depressing statement: 2009 is the worst year of my life, hands down.
enlightening statement: i'm currently content and feel absolutely no desire to sabotage all that's good around me.
i realize this blog is very self-centered. i'm not sure why my life is important enough to deserve internet space, but i've decided to accept this small limelight and promote why i think this world is a good place to invest in (see my earlier hemingway post for that literary allusion).
in many ways, my life has just been one big circle: i've returned to the medical field as a pharmacy tech, i've returned to a boy only to be (un)comfortably taken with his late night hottub conversations and beautiful lips, and i've returned to enjoying the little highlights of my day.
sure, i wish i was still friends with so-and-so. sure, i wish my moody days of self-inflicted apartment quarantine didn't result in mass consumptions of pasta and ice cream. but you know what. i like that i "held out" for a job i enjoy, that my boyfriend spent over 2 hours giving me beta fish advice at 3 different pet stores before finally purchasing lovely little toby with me, and that i feel monetarily stable enough to run my AC this summer.
don't worry, i still listen to britney spears. there are some things that just aren't worth the change.
23 May 2009
i ♥ _____.
currently:
free movies and books from the library, including a "pearls before swine" treasury. stephan pastis, marry me.
Qdoba.
listening to blink 182. watching videos on youtube. wishing they'd play in boise on their reunion tour.
(i know it's not an official video, but i sort of like the nauseated feeling i get from watching these words dash across the screen.)
taking emo self-portraits with my new side bangs and tan-in-progress.
gregory house, m.d.
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a few other things i don't have awesome graphics for:
free movies and books from the library, including a "pearls before swine" treasury. stephan pastis, marry me.
Qdoba.
listening to blink 182. watching videos on youtube. wishing they'd play in boise on their reunion tour.
(i know it's not an official video, but i sort of like the nauseated feeling i get from watching these words dash across the screen.)
taking emo self-portraits with my new side bangs and tan-in-progress.
gregory house, m.d.
a few other things i don't have awesome graphics for:
- boise weather. hello, sunshine.
- new folding chairs for my balcony. hello, mosquito bites.
- my new twitter account: http://www.twitter.com/andreamj9. hello, addiction.
- BSU's semester end. my friends can come out to play. goodbye, boredom.
28 April 2009
it's like watching someone run over your dog:
i wake up with words in my mouth. not literally, of course. each morning, there's a phrase waiting to be spoken-- and it's usually a line or two from a song. i used to diligently keep track of these lyrics in my journal to decode their significance and see what my subconscious was trying to tell me and/or what it sorted out as i slumbered.
i've been (un)surprisingly emotionless despite a rather traumatic break up. i tried to write about it. nothing. so i decided to read what little i've written over the last few months and-- lo and behold-- i started reading into the snippets of song lyrics i recorded since january.
and now you can share in this discovery:
january 11
"call me a safe bet, i'm betting i'm not"
-brand new, "the boy who blocked his own shot"
january 17
"this cannot wait, i'm yours"
-jason mraz, "i'm yours"
february 2
"i don't know why, i can't take my eyes off of you"
-lifehouse, "you & me"
february 6
"someone call the doctor, got a case of love bipolar"
-katy perry, "hot n cold"
march 3
"by the way i tried to say i'd be there waiting for you"
-red hot chili peppers, "by the way"
march 15
"i'll be fine if i don't look around me now too much for what's gone"
-the submarines, "brighter discontent"
march 23
"this love is difficult but it's real"
-taylor swift, "love story"
april 1
"i'm lying on the table with everything you said, keep it mind"
-taking back sunday, "this photograph is proof"
april 12
"i had that dream about you again where i wait outside until you let me in"
-blink 182, "roller coaster"
and now all i hear is a heartbeat when i wake up. maybe it's my subconscious trying to comfort me-- "you're not alone"-- or taunt me with the realization that i have nothing left but my pulse to remind me that i'm alive.
i've been (un)surprisingly emotionless despite a rather traumatic break up. i tried to write about it. nothing. so i decided to read what little i've written over the last few months and-- lo and behold-- i started reading into the snippets of song lyrics i recorded since january.
and now you can share in this discovery:
january 11
"call me a safe bet, i'm betting i'm not"
-brand new, "the boy who blocked his own shot"
january 17
"this cannot wait, i'm yours"
-jason mraz, "i'm yours"
february 2
"i don't know why, i can't take my eyes off of you"
-lifehouse, "you & me"
february 6
"someone call the doctor, got a case of love bipolar"
-katy perry, "hot n cold"
march 3
"by the way i tried to say i'd be there waiting for you"
-red hot chili peppers, "by the way"
march 15
"i'll be fine if i don't look around me now too much for what's gone"
-the submarines, "brighter discontent"
march 23
"this love is difficult but it's real"
-taylor swift, "love story"
april 1
"i'm lying on the table with everything you said, keep it mind"
-taking back sunday, "this photograph is proof"
april 12
"i had that dream about you again where i wait outside until you let me in"
-blink 182, "roller coaster"
and now all i hear is a heartbeat when i wake up. maybe it's my subconscious trying to comfort me-- "you're not alone"-- or taunt me with the realization that i have nothing left but my pulse to remind me that i'm alive.
09 April 2009
"unfortunately perfect"
i picked up a thin book called "something i expected to be different" by joshua beckman (verse press) at the boise public library book sale last weekend. i recognized beckman's name from a poetry class years ago and figured 50 cents on a most-likely-decent read wasn't a bad deal.
something happens to me when i open a book and find myself on the page. it's like all breathing stops, all senses fade, and it's just me and the text and this incredible ache in my chest that throbs: "i could have written this." this is exactly what happened when i read the last poem in the collection, "block island," which begins with the speaker in a too-small bathtub reflecting on his sulking around his lonely apartment after a life-wrecking break up, writing little, and drinking lots of tea. the narrative follows the speaker's thought process about his mental state ("me/always repeating what you say/ and what everyone says/ because I am distracted just not listening/ distracted distracted"), emotional state ("I have a lot of directional-going within me"), unrequited love ("Your presence/ somewhere else is the sad warm thing/ blowing around my room"), and other peoples' advice to move on ("Do I know what it feels like, of course I know").
i don't know copyright rules, but i'm pretty sure it's illegal to transcribe the entire poem here on blogger, so i'll share some snippets of magnificence.
"Dull heart,
you are out of breath.
One day you are hoarse
one day you promise to do everything
silently, and are hoarse again."
"Love, you are dull
you are simple
unacceptable incomplete
you rush places
sway crowds
act mean
and low
and honest
every chance you get.
Come, take me away from this.
I have romance for you.
I have passion for you.
I have the shrill sounds
of a bird* caught in your hallway."
*The poem references a bird in the hallway a few times. In the middle of the poem, Beckman writes, "Did a bird/ get loose/ in your house/ like the high key of a piano/ ting tinging a song/ off your walls and windows?/ Welcome to the electric mind/ of I am and want to be/ twenty all day long." I think the bird is a symbol for the mind trying to free itself from grief. Plus, Block Island-- the title of the poem--looks like a bird, doesn't it? This is when I need a book group...
"Soon she will
be attracted to everyone"
"there is always a third person with us"
(what does it mean to leave someone behind?)
" You need my love
and I give you a poem, you need my understanding
and I give you the criticism
of love's temperature always changing
and never returning
though some people will tell you
that everything returns
acting this way
is people's way being
distracted me
the sour look of her
no longer in love face
not infatuated, worse I say
is that you just keep longing for her
stop longing for her"
"When I am out in the world and the air does its little displacement
with my body, I think of you moving with the horizon
in and out of view."
" I wanted no more
than the little I wanted."
i thought having a boyfriend meant i wouldn't have to feel heartache anymore. when i see my exact feelings encapsulated in small black type on a white rectangular page published in 2001 by poet i've never met, i am seized with the realization that we all experience moments of sadness, of inability to move on, of throat-clenching frustration. here is to acknowledging heartache,
and here is my goodbye.
something happens to me when i open a book and find myself on the page. it's like all breathing stops, all senses fade, and it's just me and the text and this incredible ache in my chest that throbs: "i could have written this." this is exactly what happened when i read the last poem in the collection, "block island," which begins with the speaker in a too-small bathtub reflecting on his sulking around his lonely apartment after a life-wrecking break up, writing little, and drinking lots of tea. the narrative follows the speaker's thought process about his mental state ("me/always repeating what you say/ and what everyone says/ because I am distracted just not listening/ distracted distracted"), emotional state ("I have a lot of directional-going within me"), unrequited love ("Your presence/ somewhere else is the sad warm thing/ blowing around my room"), and other peoples' advice to move on ("Do I know what it feels like, of course I know").
i don't know copyright rules, but i'm pretty sure it's illegal to transcribe the entire poem here on blogger, so i'll share some snippets of magnificence.
"Dull heart,
you are out of breath.
One day you are hoarse
one day you promise to do everything
silently, and are hoarse again."
"Love, you are dull
you are simple
unacceptable incomplete
you rush places
sway crowds
act mean
and low
and honest
every chance you get.
Come, take me away from this.
I have romance for you.
I have passion for you.
I have the shrill sounds
of a bird* caught in your hallway."
*The poem references a bird in the hallway a few times. In the middle of the poem, Beckman writes, "Did a bird/ get loose/ in your house/ like the high key of a piano/ ting tinging a song/ off your walls and windows?/ Welcome to the electric mind/ of I am and want to be/ twenty all day long." I think the bird is a symbol for the mind trying to free itself from grief. Plus, Block Island-- the title of the poem--looks like a bird, doesn't it? This is when I need a book group...
"Soon she will
be attracted to everyone"
"there is always a third person with us"
(what does it mean to leave someone behind?)
" You need my love
and I give you a poem, you need my understanding
and I give you the criticism
of love's temperature always changing
and never returning
though some people will tell you
that everything returns
acting this way
is people's way being
distracted me
the sour look of her
no longer in love face
not infatuated, worse I say
is that you just keep longing for her
stop longing for her"
"When I am out in the world and the air does its little displacement
with my body, I think of you moving with the horizon
in and out of view."
" I wanted no more
than the little I wanted."
i thought having a boyfriend meant i wouldn't have to feel heartache anymore. when i see my exact feelings encapsulated in small black type on a white rectangular page published in 2001 by poet i've never met, i am seized with the realization that we all experience moments of sadness, of inability to move on, of throat-clenching frustration. here is to acknowledging heartache,
and here is my goodbye.
31 March 2009
28 March 2009
dose of hemingway
i'm jealous of the students who are taking the hemingway seminar at bsu this semester. to ease my jealousy, i decided to read "the sun also rises" solo.
sometimes i think there's something somewhat like divinity that directs me to works of literature that vibrate to that iron string in my chest at the perfect time. instead of musing and reflecting endlessly like i normally do in these blog posts, i'll simply transcribe the passage from hemingway's novel with scant background information for context.
the protagonist jake had been and still is in love with the beautiful brett ashley. she dated and lived with his friend robert cohn and is currently attached to michael at this point in the novel. jake hears brett and michael laughing (who are in bed in the room next to jake), and he can't sleep. jake realizes that he's been given a metaphorical "bill" for his relationship with brett and realizes he's been the one taking (acting on expectations, &c.).
"I thought I had paid for everything. Not like the woman pays and pays and pays. No idea of retribution or punishment. Just exchange of values. You gave up something and got something else. Or you worked for something. You paid some way for everything that was any good. I paid my way into things that I liked, so that I had a good time. Either you paid by learning about them, or by experience, or by taking chances, or by money. Enjoying living was learning to get your money's worth and knowing when you had it. You could get your money's worth. The world was a good place to buy in. It seemed like a fine philosophy. In five years, I thought, it will seem just as silly as all the other fine philosophies I've had."
word.
sometimes i think there's something somewhat like divinity that directs me to works of literature that vibrate to that iron string in my chest at the perfect time. instead of musing and reflecting endlessly like i normally do in these blog posts, i'll simply transcribe the passage from hemingway's novel with scant background information for context.
the protagonist jake had been and still is in love with the beautiful brett ashley. she dated and lived with his friend robert cohn and is currently attached to michael at this point in the novel. jake hears brett and michael laughing (who are in bed in the room next to jake), and he can't sleep. jake realizes that he's been given a metaphorical "bill" for his relationship with brett and realizes he's been the one taking (acting on expectations, &c.).
"I thought I had paid for everything. Not like the woman pays and pays and pays. No idea of retribution or punishment. Just exchange of values. You gave up something and got something else. Or you worked for something. You paid some way for everything that was any good. I paid my way into things that I liked, so that I had a good time. Either you paid by learning about them, or by experience, or by taking chances, or by money. Enjoying living was learning to get your money's worth and knowing when you had it. You could get your money's worth. The world was a good place to buy in. It seemed like a fine philosophy. In five years, I thought, it will seem just as silly as all the other fine philosophies I've had."
word.
09 March 2009
find some conversation
the oddest things set me off these days: "say yes to the dress" premiere, my pink chair (that i was trying to cover with a black sheet even though the chair is perfect fine pink), and my boyfriend's silly quest to figure out a nickname for me even though i rather despise nicknames. truly, my long unemployed days give me too much time to ponder and reflect my existence (and books like "play it as it lays" by joan didion surely don't encourage anything else). i'd like to dedicate this blog post to the exploration of nicknames: what they are and possibly their effect on our self-perception.
according to wikipedia, a nickname is "a descriptive name given in place of or in addition to the official name of a person, place, or thing." nicknames can be broken down into a few different categories such as: shortened names, titles or pseudonyms, and hypocoristic names (like terms of endearment or diminutives).
my parents ascribed me a nickname early in my childhood: andi. this shortened name-- or contraction-- served as an alternate to my full name; i think of it as a cuter version of "andrea." it's also harder to mispronounce. "andi" lasted a few years, but my paternal grandmother used to taunt me with a line from a childhood nursery rhyme: "andy pandy pudding pie kissed the boys and made them cry." when i was 4 or 5, kissing boys seemed like a vile activity that i did not want any part of. i boycotted "andi." in high school, a few friends tried out "drea" as a contraction, but that didn't stick either. "drea." the end. some remnants. a left over.
titles are rather short on my nickname list. past students called me several combinations of: miss johnson, mrs. johnson, ms. johnson, professor johnson, YOU. one family i babysit for calls me "miss andrea," which the mother insisted on because it creates a "clear boundary of authority." the pseudonym list is much longer:
- roadrunner: in 5th grade, my friends and i decided to form the "WB gang" or "warner bros gang" and title ourselves after WB cartoon characters. i was roadrunner. there was tweety, sylvester, and others. perhaps i resembled a roadrunner: i was a fast runner in my black suede hi-tops (i was stylin'), and i was rather slender.
- lucy dew: in 7th grade, mostly the same friends and i gave each other nicknames with a first and last name. the first name was some sort of trendy, cute girl name and the last name consisted of a kind of soda. i picked lucy after the hanson song "lucy," which i thought was a beautifully simple and sad love song. mountain dew was my favorite soda. i combined these two names to represent some aspect of my identity-- perhaps that i wanted to be a cute, longed-for sweetie.
- shandelle lynn carter and sari: when i was 14 and 15, i went through a weird, dark phase. i created a new name for myself because i could imagine a different me that was more elegant (doesn't shandelle sound pretty? it looks nice when you write it too) and flowy. "sari" was the name of a character in a christopher pike book that i no longer remember; she was a vampire. my french teacher wanted us to pick nicknames to use in french class (why? i don't remember), so i picked sari. i dotted the "i" with a star on all my papers.
terms of endearment-- or hypocorisitcs, basically the best word ever-- are really what ignited this reflection in the first place. we all have pet names for others, and we all have been called a hypocoristic. these are usually assigned by others and for some explicit purpose, and my list of "endearments" over the years is quite interesting. my friends have called/still call me:
- girly girl
- pudding cup
- sweets
- pumpkin pie
- andre the giant
- kiddo
they are a good combination of labels (like "girly"), terms of affection (like "sweets"), and sarcastic pokes (like "andre the giant"). these nicknames indicate that my friends view me as something pleasant and feminine (with one blatant exception). and i am.
the boys in my life also ascribe fairly diverse hypocoristics:
- poopy, poophead, poopface: brett and i certainly loved each other (as we should have after 4 years together), but i think we had an odd way of showing it. we each called each other a combination of poop + body part.
- my love: i'm pretty sure brett came up with this from the scene in "dumb and dumber" when lloyd drops off mary at the airport, reaches out his arm to her, says, "goodbye, my love..." as he runs into a car and deploys the airbag.
- babe
- sweetheart
- sunshine: apparently, i wake up happy and full of energy. apparently, this is enough to warrant a hypocoristic related to my AM-demeanor.
- lil girl: this was from the cardiologist, and it used to sort of weird me out.
all of these nicknames demonstrate how others perceived me. i think these nicknames also affected me and my own perception of how i functioned in the relationship: i was the annoying one, the loved one, the sweet one, the happy one, the young one. can my role in a relationship always be relegated to x? especially in terms of what the other is not?
my current boyfriend has been trying out different nicknames for me, which has been an interesting exercise that has revealed what he seems to like/value about me:
- baby
- snookums
- gigglesworth
- lil asian
our nicknames indicate what we think of ourselves-- both to ourselves and others. i'm interested in the desire we each have to represent ourselves to others with nicknames as both labels and symbols. i think our nicknames do have an effect on how we perceive ourselves and our relationships with others. perhaps we're just looking for that connection.