What’s in a Name?

Erin Brittany Evelynn Hermione Isis Vivianna Rose Tarista Beatrice Marie Catherine Yiddle Adele Wika-Wika.

This is the name I gave myself in 7th grade HomeEc class while making coffee cake to convince my friends that I had been adopted from the United Kingdom.

From a family with connections to the House of Lords, no less.

Yes, I’ve always been an inventive and spectacular liar… when the occasion calls for it or if I need to very quickly steal the attention of a room.

I can’t believe I’ve remembered the name, or that I at one time had the ability to rattle off 13 names in one breath without pause.

It all just came to me.

Profound, no?

Oddly, up until graduation from High School (the last time I communicated with anyone outside of my family from my home town. I’m an ass like that.) classmates still would come up to me randomly and inquire if I was the one who 1) had been adopted from England and 2) if I was the bastard, cast-off of the Royal Family.

Naturally, I said “yes” to both questions.

Once you imagine you’re royalty you have to stick with it. I hadn’t even said more on the topic outside of that one cooking class.

Rumors. They spread.

Quite frankly, anyone with THAT particular name sounds like a total bore. Or a bitch. A rude, obnoxious cow who probably went to law school and wore plaid and mis-matched argyle and had a blunt bobbed hair cut. Or who got married and did something impractical like “start an herb garden” or “collect fairy figurines in a curio cabinet”.

That woman, who isn’t real, totally surpassed me in life. Take THAT imagination! I didn’t rise to your expectations! HA!

Also, said cow probably looks like this:



(The female one, obviously)… which is to say: lame.

What can we learn from this, you ask?

1. I was insane as a youth.

2. I still am insane as a faux-adult.

3. I took one “oh look, we’re related to the royal family” announcement way too far.

4. People from my home town are gullible, simple-minded, adorable weirdos.

5. Obviously Harry Potter hadn’t really “gotten big” yet, or people could have called me out on that fourth name super quick and my lie would have been exposed.

6. I was trying to impress a boy. (you ladies knew that was coming!)

7. Coffee Cake apparently makes me competitive. If I can’t make it the best, I sure as heck can distract said boy from the girl who does with something more impressive… i.e. a laundry list of names.

8. I went to school when HomeEc still existed.

9. My parents exercised no control over my ambitious imagination. Thank God.

10. I was in the throws of my “I’m going to be an Egyptologist!” phase, hence: “Isis”.

Ya’ll can just sit there and count your stars (lucky or not) that you are not as absurd as I am. Unless you are, and you probably are, in which case we can all just bond nicely over our mutual creepiness.



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