Oh my god, y’all.
I am so super good at naming things, it seems like such a waste.
I have so many awesome names in my arsenal, and now, thanks to Andy’s unwillingness to father anymore children with me, they will never see the light of day.
Unless I buy, like, thirty pet fish.
And even then, how stupid is it to waste perfectly good human names on fish?
Very.
When my mom was pregnant, they didn’t have ultrasounds.
CAN YOU EVEN IMAGINE!? How did you even know there was a baby in there!?
Olden days were so weird.
Anyways, up until my birth, I was a bouncing baby boy to be named Justin.
Alas. Ovaries. No Justin. Not even a Justine.
My dad was totally bummed.
Thankfully, my brother, Adam, was born two years later.
(He has a beard and he’s a carpenter. Can you guess which one of us is the favorite? He doesn’t write about his sex life on the internet, and the jury is still out on his ability to walk on water.)
When I was younger, I always wanted to be named Kimberly.
In fact, I had completely convinced my 90 year old great grandmother in a nursing home that, that was my name.
Everyone thought she was a nut bag, but, I loved her. Even when she pooped in her pants or made me help her take her bra off.
We shared the same grip on reality.
My name was Kimberly, and I was going to be a triple threat on the New Mickey Mouse Club and marry JC Chasez, because he was such a hunk and not at all a homosexual.
See!?
Completely rational.
Instead, I am Brittany. In Ohio. With no Christ-like tendencies. No pop music career. And a fish tank full of bad ass baby names.
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well I’m pretty sure for most of the pregnancy mom called me “Oh my god this can’t be happening – nooooo!!!” (that’s what happens when *Dad* had a vascectomy 5 years previous).
However my brother who was 8 at the time remembers desperately wanting to call me Ariel, not because he had forseen the little mermaid but because way back in the early 70s he was completely fascinated by how the TV aerial ‘magically’ got the tv shows into the tv …
Oh. Mah. Gawd.
I NEED NAMES RIGHT NOW! I’m pregnant for the fourth time (did I also mention suicidal? Errr….out loud?) and right now this poor kid in me has had like 3 names. And NONE of them are making his Papa happy. NONE. My other half see is a Dutchman, and this kid is a boy, and coming up with an unsual boy’s name that makes his Papa happy is PROVING TO BE FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE AND IM THIS FUCKIN’ CLOSE TO CALLING THE WHOLE THING OFF. He’s due in April, do you see my panic?!
Right now, you are feelin’ my pain. My thing is that I want an unsual name. His thing, is that it can’t be anything close to making the poor kid sound like he’s on dope or skipping around in a pink friggin tutu waving fairy dust at strangers. Which tbh sounds pretty freakin’ awesome to me, but whatever.
Dude, I will so not mention to him that this is the name of one of your millions of pet fish, cos right now if the name was kick ass enough and it came off a pet worm I’d do it. I would. So help me I would.
When I was about 13, I bought six goldfish. I named them Hootie and the Goldfish. One of those damn fish lived for six fucking years. WTF???
(P.S. I took my blog private but would love to send you an invite to be a reader. Email me at brentsgirl2008@gmail.com if you’re interested.)
I was to be a boy too and my name was supposed to be Frank. The first words out of my mom’s mouth were, and I quote, “AWW SHIT!”
I know the feeling. I’ve only popped two out of my vag, and I have an arsenal of at least 50 amazing baby names just waiting to be used…
My name was Sam like Alyssa Milano on Who’s The Boss.
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