I forgot one last thing… It’s thanks to Mikey’s post on names, too.
My full name is Marie Frances Louise insertlastnamehere.
Marie is like, a Catholic thing– my sister’s name is Marie E******* A**, (she’d kill me if I put her full E-name in, so I’ll blank out the other one, too) my brother’s name is Joseph David, my mom is Marie something something something… so none of us go by Marie or Joseph, obviously.
I don’t even bother putting it on my drivers’ license or health card or anything– I mean all together my full name, first, two middles, and last comes up to 25 letters which is pretty long for filling out forms and stuff. It doesn’t fit on your drivers’ license. It’s annoying.
So people basically see my name as Frances Louise.
Frances. FRANCES.
How could my parents do that to me? Louise is bad enough, but Frances???
Actually, I’m named after both of my grandmothers (why they didn’t do this to my brother I will never know– except that his name would have been Aloysius Auguste and maybe he’d have ended up in the mental hospital). I’m not trying to dis my grandmothers. They are/were both wonderful women. But they were also born in 1915 (Emelida Louise, my mom’s mom was– oh wait, Louise was her middle name, but my parents were kind enough not to saddle me with Emelida) and 1926 (Frances, my dad’s mom). I go by Louise because when I was born, both my grandmothers were alive. Frances goes by Frances, and Emelida Louise went by Emelida, so there would be no confusion with the Louise part.
My whole life, I’d be introduced, then people would say something like “Oh, you don’t hear that name much anymore!” or “Wow, you have an old-lady name”, in the case of tactless people my own age.
It would embarass the hell out of me. Why couldn’t I be normal? Why couldn’t I have a name like Rachel or Kristie or something?
Now that I’m older, I’m kind of happy with my name. I’m used to Louise. I can’t imagine myself with a different name. I mean, think of it. Britney? Shaniqua? Katie? All perfectly good names, but not for me.
But yes, the name on my health card is Frances Louise. So I had to deal with the receptionist at the hospital calling me Frances all morning. “FRANCES! Okay, just go right in there, Frances, and put on this Johnnyshirt. Alright, Frances, you can wait in the waiting room now. Take off your johnnyshirt and stand right here, Frances. Here let me tape these metal balls to your nipples, Frances!”
I cringed each and every time.
And no, not just because of the metal balls.
I figure it’s taken me 20-odd years to warm up to Louise… it might take me a bit longer to love on Frances.