Names Are Important

To the woman who wrote to the “Social Q” section of the New York Times upset because your first name is vaguely difficult to pronounce and your in-laws still mispronounce it after 10 years of marriage to your spouse:

The problem isn’t your in-laws.  The problem is your mother.  Your mother gave you a stupid name.  If you’re pissed off at anyone, be pissed off at your mother.

Giving children stupid names is all the rage.  If the name isn’t impossible to pronounce, at least mom has to spell it in such a way that nobody will ever in the child’s lifetime spell it correctly without specific coaching from the child or said child’s mother.  Why this is considered fashionable, I do not know or understand.  It’s a stupid f**king idea and it’s going to haunt your children all their lives, until they finally grow up and have it legally changed to something pronounceable or at least spell-able.

It isn’t your in-laws fault if they can’t pronounce your stupid f**king name.  But you’re right, after 10 years you’d think they’d have some clue.  So perhaps you should contemplate the following scenarios:  A) Your in-laws dearly love you and mispronounce your name on purpose, as a family joke and a way of making gentle fun of you while assuring you that you’re welcome in the family, or B) You in-laws didn’t like you when they met you 10 years ago and they still don’t like you.  Considering the fact that you’re one of those girls who blames the entire world for the fact you have a stupid f**king name, I’d strongly consider option B.

Get your name legally changed to something pronounceable.  It’s a simple, one-page form you fill out at your local county courthouse for a minimal filing fee.  Suddenly, you’ll find that upon changing your name from Sheenguyanacia to Sheila, doors will open that were previously closed.  If nothing else, you’ll have greater potential for job advancement, because nobody wants to interview someone if they can’t even pronounce their name, because it’s just embarrassing to have to ask.  The interviewer knows that no matter how hard he tries, he will inevitably mispronounce your stupid f**king name and then have to complete the interview with you glowering across the table all pissed off because he can’t begin to even guess how to pronounce Sheenguyanacia.

Names are important.  They tell the world who we are.  I’ve never met an Eddie I didn’t like.  I’ve never met a Brandie who wasn’t a ditz.  I’ve never met a Rose who wasn’t a screaming bitch, but I’ve never met a Rosie who wasn’t wonderful.  I’ve never met a Ron who wasn’t gay, and I’ve never met a Dick who wasn’t a dick. I’ve never met anyone with a name misspelled who was very smart. And I’ve never met anyone with a name that’s impossible to pronounce who wasn’t mad at the entire world because nobody can pronounce your stupid f**king name.

If your mother gave you a stupid f**king name, be mad at her, not the rest of the world.  I guarantee you, your husband calls you by some cute pet name not because it’s intimate and he loves you, but because he doesn’t want to mispronounce your stupid f**king name and piss you off.  Again.

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