Sunday, May 16, 2010
Nicknames. It's been years since I've had one. I miss having a nickname. It's like being a part of a club, like being included.
My first nickname was a rather unflattering one: a play on my name which, granted, does bear a resemblance to a certain aquatic creature of Scottish legend. Nickname number two? A combination of my initials which, when put together, rhymes with turtle. Then came the real nicknames:
Girl Achi (long story)
Battle Bitch (longer story)
Mumbles (shouldn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure that one out)
Okay, I guess Clancy was actually my first nickname. Dad called me that when I was a small, young thing with pigtails and skinned knees. Years later, someone else picked it up again. Nicknames tie us to a time and place. They ground our memories.
They are generally better given than chosen but if I were to choose my own nickname, it might be... Nans? Ray? (Short for Teresa. That's TeRAYsa, not Tereesa). Or, perhaps something more indicative of my personality. Like... whats another word for indecisive, procrastinating dreamer?
Just don't call me Missy. Ever. Unless you want to find out how "Battle Bitch" came into being.