By Any Other Name

This video was posted on The Carol Blog and it immediately grabbed my attention. I had some similar experiences with my name. My legal name is Jessica, and I've had a tumultuous relationship with it for as long as I can remember. My mother actually told me as well that I was a Jessica, not a Jess or a Jessie, but that didn't bother me. What bothered me is that I couldn't own it. I just never felt like that was me. Something I really did relate to though was being told that it was "the name I was given," and so I was stuck with it.

And I really did feel stuck. I tried everything in the way of name changes. There was a period that I wanted to be called Alex, once I tried to get people to call me Medusa, and there were two times I almost got away with being called by my middle name, Morgan. The first time it didn't work because there was another girl named Morgan in my age group, but for the first (and last) time there wasn't another Jessica. The second time, when we moved to Texas, I was going to introduce myself as Morgan to my new friends, but forgot and so gave up. Oh and at camp I got called Eggs. I really was stuck, and it was right during my most image defining moments as a teenager when the solution came.

A quick segue into something on the subject of name changes that has stuck with me since I read it a decade ago. I say a decade ago with all the wish that I could go back and see myself on the exact day that I first read this book. It's one of those books that stick with you, and you don't always know why. Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli was one of those books for me. Also, the colors of this picture as shown on the computer screen do it NO justice. I have it sitting next to me and the thing practically glows. Anyway, a quote:
   "'But the name,' said Kevin, leaning forward. 'Is it real?' 
   'The name?' Archie shrugged. 'Every name is real. That's the nature of names. When she first showed up, she called herself Pocket Mouse. Then Mudpie. Then - what? - Hullygully, I believe. Now...'
   'Stargirl.' The word came out whispery; my throat was dry.
   Archie looked at me. 'Whatever strikes her fancy. Maybe that's how names ought to be, heh? Why be stuck with one your whole life?'"
It's interesting to me that one of my heroes is a T1. Also that looking back she stood for a lot of huggly wuggly green bordering on anti-American trash that I don't agree with now. But I still look up to this fictional character as someone who shaped her own self in a way that I always try to.

Which leads me to another point: I made very conscious decisions about the kind of person I was going to grow to become. I think that my name had a lot to do with it.

Scotty. How did I get that name? I offer a variety of answers, but the truth is that in the middle of my struggle to define myself, a boon was granted straight from heaven, and his name was Ed. He walked into my life one night, and walked back out that same night. Sure I saw him around, but it somehow wasn't the same person who asked me "What is your favorite thing about yourself?" Now my family is mostly German. And the rest is mostly Swiss. But there's an extremely small amount of Irish and English in there, and if you go back far enough they're basically the same thing... together with Scottish. On top of that I could swear that my dad once said that he had an ancestor or two from Scotland, which he denies today. Regardless, I was feeling very Scottish that year, and told my new friend that was my favorite thing about myself. He promptly responded that he would call me Scotty.

The first play that I ever worked on was The Rainmaker, by N. Richard Nash, produced at my extremely recently Alma Mater, Brigham Young University - Idaho. I was the props runner. Interesting that props is my favorite thing now, huh? Anyway I had been going by Scotty for a few years at that point, but was still getting a few people asking me why in the world I would change my perfectly respectable, if not unfortunately common, name to
something as "ridiculous" as Scotty. One of the characters, Starbuck (Stargirl, Starbuck, common theme here?), changed his name as well.

I was taking makeup at the same time and I got to give
Jimmy his black eye. I gave a few others a black eye as well...

   STARBUCK: What's wrong with my name?
   LIZZIE: It sounds fake! It sounds like you made it up!
   STARBUCK: You're darn right! I did make it up! Why not? You know what name I was born with? Smith! Smith, for the love of Mike, Smith! Now what kind of a handle is that for a fella like me! I needed a name that had the whole sky in it! And the poer of a man! Star-buck! Now there's a name - and it's mine!
   LIZZIE: NO it's not! You were born Smith - and that's your name!
   STARBUCK: You're wrong, Lizzie! The name you choose for yourself is more your own than the name you were born with! 
I have to say that I agree with Starbuck. At the same time... and this may come as a shock to some... I'm not 100% certain that I'll be Scotty forever. Like Stargirl, I may grow and change and become someone different. At one point in her life she went back to her given name for a little while. The problem is that I don't want to go through the same things that I went through when I changed to Scotty. I mean, my family still calls me Jessica. Will my husband's family continue to call me Scotty if I change again? Will I have three names?!?!  And I don't know what I'd change it to. I don't think I could go back to Jessica, even if I wanted to, which I don't. In the words of a good friend who happened upon my given name while retrieving a book on hold for me at the library (that is what I could actually make out between his peals of laughter) "Your name is JESSICA?!?!?! That doesn't fit you at ALL!!!"

So yes this post is ambiguous, open-ended, and LOOOOOONG, but that was what was on my mind today.

Pinterest Barfed in My Bathroom

Someday I'll glue these bracelet-holding bottles (or maybe better, two brown ones?) into a wooden box to hang from the wall. No sense taking up the counter space after all.

My necklaces and hair clips.

Snazzy idea for my headbands, yes? I originally thought of using clothespins but this works fine :)


Before I started this project I was only thinking of it as organization. Little did I realize that it would actually transform my bathroom at the same time. Something about all the Type 3 colors makes it such an inviting place now, instead of it being white and drab. I'm surrounded by things I love as I'm getting ready for the day!

Crafty Like a Fox

Well this is awkward. Other bloggers make adding photos look so easy. Anyway, these are some things I've made. On the left are a selection of flowers... obvious right? Sometimes I thought they looked less like flowers and more like... things I've seen on Pinterest that look like flowers. Stick them on hair clips or pins and sell them for a buck? If I sold all of these I'd make twelve dollars. And I'm not planning on selling them all. And I wouldn't actually be MAKING that money per se, as the pins/hair clips cost money.

Here is another thing that I have made. It is a headband. Also obvious? I found the tutorial on Pinterest a couple months ago and finally got around to doing it. Also the case to my multi-tool off in the upper left-hand corner. In case you were wondering. Took me a minute to figure it out too. If someone were to ask me to make them one of these I could probably do it for two dollars. It was pretty simple. Anyway... the end.

Ready to Go

There's a part of me that dearly wishes that I was the kind of person who could store all of their possessions in their Geo... ready to go anywhere in the world at a moment's notice. But then I see my precious (and hefty) brand spanking new Janome sewing machine, a gift for my graduation. Oh the world traveling skirts we will create together...

The Hunt

Why can't I make money by just having the best boards on Pinterest? Hmmm? 

I've applied to a grand total of 9 1/2 establishments so far. Of these only one was actually hiring, and I'm assuming by this point they've filled the openings. I thought there would be more people going home for the summer. Apparently that isn't the case.

I would make money by selling plasma, but I get sick every time. Not like, a little sick, like full blown flunking my take home test because I'm vomiting so much sick. That was the last time I donated plasma. The first time I thought I was fine so I tried walking home. Luckily I ran into a friend right before I hit the ground. He basically had to drag me to my apartment. 

I could also make money by working for my mother on her business. I don't know why it's so tough for me to actually do it. Maybe it's to much freedom? There's no time clock, no set schedule, and no supervisors. It really shows how irresponsible I am. 

On the bright side it gives me more time to game. And things to blog about?

Three Interesting Things

1. Today is Steven's and my first anniversary! Whoa! We plan to celebrate by doing our state income taxes, praying for the phones to ring and people to offer us jobs, and enjoying a bottle of Martinelli's. In glass goblets. A celebration of the humdrum new adult life we signed up for when we walked into the temple a year ago. Can't say I have a single regret.

2. I fell down the stairs Saturday night. It hurts. A lot. I scraped up both legs pretty bad and began to realize yesterday that the pain in my left knee isn't strictly from the worst of the scrapes, located right on the kneecap, but rather from things going on inside my knee. Oh well, it was about time to go to the chiropractor anyway. We have this nasty flight of stairs in our apartment complex (which actually used to be a hotel a gazillion years ago) between the 2nd and 3rd floor laundries. It's narrow, steep, and apparently slippery. I was standing on the top step holding my basket of laundry thinking "Now, I'll have to be very careful as I can't see my feet due to this laundry basket," and my feet went out from under me. I won't lie, I cried on the landing for a few minutes before I managed to drag myself back to the apartment. 

3. This is the slightly embarrassing one... my husband and I are gamers. We're located somewhere between the fanatics and the casual players, leaning more on the side of the fanatics. My husband says I'm not good enough to call myself a gamer, but I say I'm doing pretty good for only playing anything but minesweeper for two years. This isn't the part I find embarrassing. The problem is that my husband and I have two very different ideas of a good time. He wants to stay at home (not necessarily gaming), and I want to go OUT. Not clubbing or to concerts, just outside. So my husband struck me a deal. He really wants me to play this game Morrowind to prepare to someday get Skyrim. So the deal is, I finish Morrowind, he'll take me to Yellowstone. Normally I would be fine with this, but it's not even on the xbox, it's on the computer. I hate games on the computer because I feel like I'm a WOWer. And other issues. Despite my whining and complaining though... I've actually started enjoying myself. Sheesh.

Graduated?

So I kinda graduated last week. Kinda as in the final grades haven't come out yet and I just might have failed one of my classes. It hasn't sunk in yet and I don't think it will. All I know is that I need a job. Also that finding old Ataris stuff on Spotify makes it feel like summer at least. Also that I love it that my husband is cooking me breakfast. I know that none of this is profound, but I figure that to get the hang of this blogging thing I actually have to, you know, blog.