So I was reading Jay’s blog (which I have been reading EVERY DAY since I told him I was IN for Fantasy Football, and then totally skipped out on because I’m a LAME-O and was in the field) and he did this thing where he typed in his name and then ‘needs’ afterwards into google.
So I thought I’d give it a try because my real name is SO rare, at least in it’s spelling, and I thought it’d be interesting. I knew there was at least one more of me out there, because I’ve had to google myself before (that sounds SOOOOO naughty) to add a poster to a resume (totally legit reason). But I didn’t know that some chick who is living in Japan was writing a story with ME as the main character.
Alright, it’s not ME (but she does seem feisty and a bit on edge, yet accepting and laid back) but still fascinating. I’m thinking of asking this chick where she came up with the name.
I’ve always wondered about my name. And I don’t necessarily mean my name per se, because a lot of girls share it, but the spelling is so freaking odd than 9.9 times out of 10, it’s mis-pronounced.
So the story goes thusly, the nice people at the obstetrician’s office told my parents that I had a little wiener (and would likely grow up to have an unusually large wiener! Kidding, threw that in because I thought it would get a laugh or two). My parents, being more prepared for #2 as they were for #1, came up with nice, great, boy names. And they trusted whole-heartedly in those educated doctor’s office employees (although I don’t know why, they also told my parents that my older sister was a boy. Big surprise!)
So no girls names hanging in the wings. Not one. They had mustered up all they could to name my sister and were fresh out. Luckily for me (I think), my mother was an avid reader. There was a character in one of her recently read books (read during my incubation) that had my name. So, when I was birthed, and those super nice people from the obstetrician’s office sprung the HAPPY NEWS! that a baby girl had been birthed (baby, sans unusually large wiener), my parents had nothing. nada
But they had to come up with something. The birth certificate couldn’t very well be left blank.
Dad: Matilda?
Mom: Uh, honey, she doesn’t look like a Matilda to me. Next name, please.
Dad: Samantha (I’ll just mention here that I really wanted this name when I was a youngster. Sam on that Tony Danza show- the name just totally slipped my mind- was freaking awesome!)
Mom: I don’t want her to have a boy’s nick name. Let’s try another one.
Dad: Jennifer?
Mom: There are WAY to many of those. I want my daughter to have an entirely unique name that people misspell, mis-pronounce and generally fuck up for the rest of her life.
Dad: Uh, ok.
Mom: So, babe, how about Aleeca? I just read this book where a woman by this name was a main character (WHAT BOOK, MOM? I’ve been asking this since I can remember. My absolutely gratifying answer? “I don’t remember. Nor do I remember what kind of person she was.” Gee, thanks, Mom. You’re a real help here). It’s unique and just crazy enough that I think I really love it.
That’s it, reader. That’s the story (with some slight fabrication) of how Al got her real name. And, in case you’re wondering… it’s pronounced “A-Lisa.” I know it’s not phonetic but how long do we wanna argue with our parents about the pronunciation of our names based on the spelling and how the rules of English dictate that it should be said? I, for one, gave up more moons ago than I can count. Enjoy the story. I think I shall go back and read about the adventures of one of the few who share my name…
