NoJoMo 1 and 2 in Those Public Entries

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of “sweet Jeebus, why is he on the ballot again?!”, I shall fear no… Well, not “evil”. Republicans, maybe? …Cut me some slack, I’m not even finished with coffee #1, and I’m still waiting for my meds to kick in.

Day 1: Do you like your name? If you could, what would you change it to, and why?

I have a… Complicated relationship with my first name. You see, my first name is both uncommon and uncommonly spelled. But as I’ve gotten older, I appreciate that (1) I was partly named after my maternal grandmother, whose name was Carole, and (2) not everyone’s family is diametrically opposed to nicknames, and I can tell people that I prefer to be called by a nickname. (I’m not kidding about the opposition to nicknames, by the way: I have three maternal cousins, Nicholas, Thomas, and Jennifer, who were never called anything but Nicholas, Thomas, and Jennifer except by their friends (and, now, spouses). This gets even weirder when you realize that my aunt never calls her husband anything but “Nick”, and my mom never goes by “Patricia”, just Patty.) I still don’t really like my first name, especially because it’s one of those lacy, frilly names, and I am not a lacy, frilly person. I’m not Ballerina Barbie, or even MAL-i-BU! Bar-Bie! I am Morticia Barbie. Or Midge. Or whichever Barbie is 5‘0”, dyes her hair black, and eats Oreos for breakfast when she has them.

Last name, though… If you’re friends with me on Facebook, you already know it. I’m not going to post it here, though, because I’m literally the only person in the world with this first name-last name combo. But no, I don’t like it, because the person who gave it to me is a rampaging fuckass and I haven’t spoken to him since 2016. (No, not for that reason, if you’re wondering. I’ll give my sperm donor this, he hates the Orange Shitgibbon almost as much as I do.) I probably won’t change my first name, but I have kicked around the idea of filing paperwork for my stepdad to adopt me, so I could make changing my last name easier. (And also because I’m closer to him than I am to my “real” father, and also also because he and my mom are getting older, and while I wouldn’t have problem getting POA when my mom isn’t able to make her own decisions anymore¹, my stepdad doesn’t have any biological kids, so me or my brother getting POA in his case would be a lot more complicated unless he adopted us.)

Day 2: Boom! You have the gift of necromancy! You can resurrect three people, who you gonna choose?

Um… Does this come with the ability to cure the illnesses people died from? Because if it does, Alan Rickman, Carrie Fisher, and David Bowie, definitely. They weren’t nearly done giving the world more art, movies, and humor.

If not, then I’d probably pick three Jane/John Does who showed signs of being murder victims, so they can get their names back and justice served. Specifically, St. Louis Jane Doe (1983; google her at your own risk, because her case is awful), Julie Doe (1988; she was thought to be AFAB for a long time, then another autopsy confirmed that she was a trans woman, so likely the victim of a hate crime), and the Persian Princess (1996).

¹My grandmother had Alzheimer’s, and my mom is in her mid-60s, so just about the age where symptoms might start showing up. She and I have discussed this, and I think she wants me to have POA, instead of my brother, mostly because my brother has kids and I don’t.