My nicknames, and where they come from:Angel
I'm always surprised no one asks me about this; everyone seems to think it's obviously some connection to my goody-goody behavior as a youth that largely continues today. Actually, it was a speedy and saving grace of a boy, who, as we were discussing a mutual friend, said, "She's a Hottie." I said, "And what am I, jerk?" And he said, quickly, "You're angel." Why? Starts with A. Then the Hottie and I took this boy shopping, and before we met up with him we found shirts with our new names on them. It took him a long time and us posing with our chests thrust out for him to notice. I still have that shirt; it's the black one with the silver Angel across the boobs.
So, I am Angel, and so are a growing proportion of my clothes, and my new watch. And my future children's book, and a current poetry character.
My favorite thing ever said about this nickname is from my friend Patrick, who said, "It's funny 'cause it's true." Smooth. Sweet. Saucy. Ah, boys.
of steel. Duh. I think Tracy Schmelzer might have been the first to pull out Abs. Also, I used to have fantastically firm ab muscles. I had a four pack. They're still pretty good, but they sure don't look the same. It still takes a lot of crunches for me to feel the burn.
Bless Natalie Smyka's heart. I danced with her, and she came up with this word, totally made up. It sounds like avaricious, but it isn't. It is its own entity and I have no idea what it means, but I love it. It's a lot like me; I also am my own entity and no one ever has any idea what I mean.
My secret codename for MAR...well, it was secret. Wait...come here a second. Just for a second!
Melanie Ordiway. 7th grade. I was an office assistant, and collected the attendance during my office period every day. Melanie, in 8th grade, used to say "Abster, the Abinator, collecting attendance." Very Rob Schneider.
Dear Doc, I'm sorry Amber, Sherry, and I pulled the tabs off our drawers in the chem lab. To be fair, they were falling off anyway. I still have mine, if you want it back. I was thinking of making it into a necklace like the ones the androids wear in "I, Mudd," that old Star Trek episode, but never got around to it. Maybe this year, 10 years later.
This name is no longer in use because I know so darn many Mikes. But here's how it happened: I left the dinner table to bus my dishes, and when I came back my Mom had her hand clapped over her mouth and my Dad was laughing. She told me that she had been trying to ask me to do something, but rather than saying "Sarah" like she normally does by accident (all parents mix up their children), she said, "Mike." Since no one in my family is named Mike, this was extraordinary. Rather like the time when, as the ladies of the house were talking, one asked, "Who?" and from the floor my Dad said "Sue who lives in the little gray house." Since he'd been sleeping peacefully up until that point, all we could do was laugh hysterically. Ah, non sequiturs.
One of my old personal faves, from the ol' yearbook editor-in-chief days.
Poor Brandon Dunlap. He tried to get this going, but it never caught on. So, it ended up being a sort of accidental pet name since he was the only one who called me that.