Seeking Sugarfoot

My parents considered naming me Isobel.  At least, that is the story I heard.  Most people I tell that to say it would have really suited me (except for the Izzy part – nobody likes that).  Which started me thinking about names and how we often seem to be what we are named.  One of the first things I ask a person when I’m getting to know them is what is their middle name?  I am so fascinated by names.  I also think about other people I have known with their name – are there similarities in looks, temperament, personality?  Generally, the answer is yes to a certain degree.  For instance, I have never met a Chris who was unattractive – oops I take that back, of all the Chris’s I’ve ever met only one was unattractive, and I’ve known a lot of Chris’s – they also tend to be blond (or dirty blond at any rate). 

Which reminds me of a game most young women play – the name game.  If you had a child what would you name it?  Since childhood my answers have not much wavered.  For a male child it’s always been one of the following:  Chris, Paul, Matthew, or my favorite, Keith.  For a female there was always the caveat that the initials must be M.J. just as my mother’s and mine are.  The ‘J’ part is easy;  Janine.  I have always loved that name.  The ‘M’ part is more difficult.  Perhaps Marlena after my Mum ( I should add that my family has a tradition of ‘going’ by their middle names).  I also like Marilyn, and Marla.  A friend once suggested another name which was quite lovely and full of sentiment, but it was foreign and I cannot recall how to spell it (nor have I ever heard it said).  Unfortunately, he won’t tell me again so that one may be off the table.

I could go on and on about girly name games.  We had one in which we combined our first names with the last names of guys we hoped to marry (isn’t that one of the first things you do ladies when you think there’s a possibility you might marry someone?).  In childhood it was always the name of a celebrity.  Since I had a huge crush on Matt Dillon my name would have been Jill Dillon.  And thus it began – the horrible realization that my name goes with virtually nothing. 

Of all my boyfriends, not one of their names went well with mine.  Mostly because their names were one syllable.  I need at least two – which is ironic considering my own last name has only one – but that is obviously a fluke.  Who knows, if I ever get married again maybe I won’t take the guy’s last name.  I certainly didn’t the last time even though it was one time it actually would have sounded okay!