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jianantonicI've been telling a lot of stories lately. Mostly it's because there is nothing going on right now - at least nothing I care to mention publicly. I'm still recovering from the full mind and body fuckstorm that was Gatlinburg (I don't necessarily mean that in a bad way; I just mean it's difficult to get back to normal after the experience), which means I'm going to bed at 6:30pm every night.
But it's important to me to write every day, so I've decided today to venture back to middle school and work my way forward.
I love nicknames. I've always been very jealous of my cousins Allan and Laura, who are siblings barely more than a year apart in age. They are very close and have always had their own code for everything, and they're very creative with nicknames. Every person in their lives has a brilliant nickname, and I wish I could do the same for the folks in my life. So far, little success. But I have had many nicknames of my own over time, and I'm a little sad that many of them are no longer in use.
One that remains in use to this day is Grute. This came from my family - it was a hand-me-down nickname from my brothers. It's short for "Tooter McGruder." Since I have no younger siblings to pass it onto, I'm stuck with it. I don't mind. It's cute:)
My mom called me "piddle" or "monkey-doo" or the super embarrassing "piddly poo," which she actually still uses on occasion. I was terrified of the flush of the toilet when I was a kid, and let's just say I had more than my share of "accidents," usually on the kitchen floor.
I think like all young girls, my daddy called me "Poo." It sounds the same as "Pooh," which is what most daddies call their baby daughters, but I'm pretty sure if you wrote my dad's version out, it wouldn't have the "h." That's just how Massies roll.
He also called me a name that I didn't decipher until I was at least 10 years old. He said it so fluidly that I never realized what he was saying, or why my mom always hit him when he called me this: hunkajunk.
You would think my father didn't like me. That's definitely not the case. It's just that Massies love doody humor.
So those are my family nicknames. Here are some I picked up in school, in chronological (I think?) order:
Anorexia: I wasn't, but you'd understand why people thought I was if you knew me in middle school. By age 14, I was 5'11 and weighed 85 pounds. Yich. I was the skinniest girl in my ballet class, and probably the only one who didn't have an eating disorder. I doubt anyone would call me this anymore.
Margie: My friends are/were a patronizing bunch. I was the outgoing, crazy, stupid one of the group, and they were constantly scolding me for being an idiot. I felt like my name was getting ruined by their "Me-eg!"s. I did NOT want them to MEG me anymore, so I made them come up with something else to call me when they were scolding me. They chose Margie, and let's just say it was used so frequently that most people forgot what my real name was.
Tim: I used to quote a lot of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, especially the line where the sorcerer goes "There are some who call me...Tim?" Eventually, I said it enough that it became true.
Riga: As in the capital of Latvia. I know nothing about Latvia, except how to label it on a map and that its capital is Riga. In 8th grade, my friend Helen impressed us all by memorizing every nation's capital in the world. I was jealous of her mad skillz, and I got her to teach them to me. I was pretty good at this (still know most of them), but for some reason I ALWAYS forgot Latvia. Then when she would tell me it was Riga, I would go "I'm such a reject that I can't remember Riga!" It became a mnemonic for me and instead of calling me a reject, Helen started calling me Riga. She still calls me this. And Margie. I don't think she's called me Meg in over a decade.
Megatha: The manager of my basketball team freshman year came up with this one. She said I reminded her of an ancient princess. Or something. It was my AOL screen name for a while.
Meggles: I'd forgotten about this one for a while, and I'm surprised meeting a guy named Greggles didn't jog my memory sooner. I had a friend named Dan who used to email me a lot in high school, and he called me Meggles. Not sure why.
Grover: I do an impression. I'm pretty good at it, but I'd feel weird if people still called me this because it's kind of a thing my ex husband came up with.
Lady Meg Margaret Massie of Massies Mill: My guitar instructor in college came up with this one. Whenever I had a lesson, he would ask me questions about my family history. He thought it was so cool that I had a town named after my family (it is cool, he's right), and he also thought that my name was very old school aristocracy (also true). The Meg is short for Margaret; they're not two separate names, but he liked saying it that way, so this is what he called me. My trainer has started calling me Lady Meg after I told her this story.
Most of the caddies on the national circuit have nicknames, and I'm one of the very few who don't. I actually probably do, they just don't say it to my face. I'm not very popular among the national caddies. Oh well.
Despite this plethora of nicknames, there are just a few people in my life who use any of these anymore. I'm still Grute to my brothers, and much to my chagrin, my mother still uses "piddle." A few of my closest friends from way back still call me "Margie" and "Riga," and of course "Lady Meg" is making a comeback, but I don't really feel like I have a true nickname. And I'm bad at coming up with them for others. And I feel like it's not something that can be forced. A nickname has to evolve naturally and you can't go soliciting one. Oh well.
So that's my story for this morning. Maybe I'll have more to tell this afternoon.
Peace.
But it's important to me to write every day, so I've decided today to venture back to middle school and work my way forward.
I love nicknames. I've always been very jealous of my cousins Allan and Laura, who are siblings barely more than a year apart in age. They are very close and have always had their own code for everything, and they're very creative with nicknames. Every person in their lives has a brilliant nickname, and I wish I could do the same for the folks in my life. So far, little success. But I have had many nicknames of my own over time, and I'm a little sad that many of them are no longer in use.
One that remains in use to this day is Grute. This came from my family - it was a hand-me-down nickname from my brothers. It's short for "Tooter McGruder." Since I have no younger siblings to pass it onto, I'm stuck with it. I don't mind. It's cute:)
My mom called me "piddle" or "monkey-doo" or the super embarrassing "piddly poo," which she actually still uses on occasion. I was terrified of the flush of the toilet when I was a kid, and let's just say I had more than my share of "accidents," usually on the kitchen floor.
I think like all young girls, my daddy called me "Poo." It sounds the same as "Pooh," which is what most daddies call their baby daughters, but I'm pretty sure if you wrote my dad's version out, it wouldn't have the "h." That's just how Massies roll.
He also called me a name that I didn't decipher until I was at least 10 years old. He said it so fluidly that I never realized what he was saying, or why my mom always hit him when he called me this: hunkajunk.
You would think my father didn't like me. That's definitely not the case. It's just that Massies love doody humor.
So those are my family nicknames. Here are some I picked up in school, in chronological (I think?) order:
Anorexia: I wasn't, but you'd understand why people thought I was if you knew me in middle school. By age 14, I was 5'11 and weighed 85 pounds. Yich. I was the skinniest girl in my ballet class, and probably the only one who didn't have an eating disorder. I doubt anyone would call me this anymore.
Margie: My friends are/were a patronizing bunch. I was the outgoing, crazy, stupid one of the group, and they were constantly scolding me for being an idiot. I felt like my name was getting ruined by their "Me-eg!"s. I did NOT want them to MEG me anymore, so I made them come up with something else to call me when they were scolding me. They chose Margie, and let's just say it was used so frequently that most people forgot what my real name was.
Tim: I used to quote a lot of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, especially the line where the sorcerer goes "There are some who call me...Tim?" Eventually, I said it enough that it became true.
Riga: As in the capital of Latvia. I know nothing about Latvia, except how to label it on a map and that its capital is Riga. In 8th grade, my friend Helen impressed us all by memorizing every nation's capital in the world. I was jealous of her mad skillz, and I got her to teach them to me. I was pretty good at this (still know most of them), but for some reason I ALWAYS forgot Latvia. Then when she would tell me it was Riga, I would go "I'm such a reject that I can't remember Riga!" It became a mnemonic for me and instead of calling me a reject, Helen started calling me Riga. She still calls me this. And Margie. I don't think she's called me Meg in over a decade.
Megatha: The manager of my basketball team freshman year came up with this one. She said I reminded her of an ancient princess. Or something. It was my AOL screen name for a while.
Meggles: I'd forgotten about this one for a while, and I'm surprised meeting a guy named Greggles didn't jog my memory sooner. I had a friend named Dan who used to email me a lot in high school, and he called me Meggles. Not sure why.
Grover: I do an impression. I'm pretty good at it, but I'd feel weird if people still called me this because it's kind of a thing my ex husband came up with.
Lady Meg Margaret Massie of Massies Mill: My guitar instructor in college came up with this one. Whenever I had a lesson, he would ask me questions about my family history. He thought it was so cool that I had a town named after my family (it is cool, he's right), and he also thought that my name was very old school aristocracy (also true). The Meg is short for Margaret; they're not two separate names, but he liked saying it that way, so this is what he called me. My trainer has started calling me Lady Meg after I told her this story.
Most of the caddies on the national circuit have nicknames, and I'm one of the very few who don't. I actually probably do, they just don't say it to my face. I'm not very popular among the national caddies. Oh well.
Despite this plethora of nicknames, there are just a few people in my life who use any of these anymore. I'm still Grute to my brothers, and much to my chagrin, my mother still uses "piddle." A few of my closest friends from way back still call me "Margie" and "Riga," and of course "Lady Meg" is making a comeback, but I don't really feel like I have a true nickname. And I'm bad at coming up with them for others. And I feel like it's not something that can be forced. A nickname has to evolve naturally and you can't go soliciting one. Oh well.
So that's my story for this morning. Maybe I'll have more to tell this afternoon.
Peace.
