Monday, April 11, 2005

Names.

It seems like I used to sleep more. I didn't, I think. But it seems like I used to.

I'm in for another busy week. The Boy starts his soccer season, and I'll have baby Ty at least three days this week. Plus the obligatory trips to Columbus. Plus finishing grad school stuff. Plus grocery shopping, paying bills, remembering to shower and do laundry and cook and do dishes at two houses, etc. ad infinitum.

My dad and I were talking about names this morning. I was telling him about how I pretty much unfairly hate the name Justin. Justin is a fine old name, with a rich history. It's associated with many great and powerful characters; emperors of Byzantium, saints like Justin Martyr. And yet, I'll always mentally associate it with the trendy Justin/Dustin phase of my late 80s childhood. Somehow I file it alongside Cindy and Ashley; to me, it's gone the way of Cody and Derek.

Dad hates unisex names. I can't disagree. The only name I can think of that's equally nice on a boy or a girl is Erin/Aaron. Some nickname kinds of names are okay. Sam is cute for a girl or a boy; Jesse is nice for a boy, and Jessie is nice for a girl when it's the short form of Jessica. I'll never learn to like Rory, Riley, Ryan or Hunter on a girl. And even though they're historically male, I still cringe whenever I meet a male Ashley, Leslie, Lynn or Lindsay.

I've always been glad to have my own name. Sarah and Elizabeth are classic monikers; almost generic even. At least for me, they don't conjure up a very clear image of anything. Sarahs have been super trendy mall rats, and blue-haired grandmas, and plain and tall, and rock stars, and many more things. You can imagine a Sarah Elizabeth becoming president, or on the street corner, looking all stoner chic. It's versatile; I like that.

I especially like it because my mom likes trendy names. Sarah was trendy when I was born, actually, but at least it was part of a classic trend. She wanted to name me Cassandra. It terrifies me to think I could've grown up a Cassie. Gassy Cassie, Mama Cass, choked on a sandwich, perched upon the toilet. That would have been brilliant fun for a kid as obviously teasable as I've always been.

I wonder what I'll name my own children when I have them. I've never thought about it very much, but I think I like old family names. I like Grace and Lily for girls; they're names sort of like mine. Not entirely out of fashion, but also classic enough to transcend eras. We have mostly lowsy names for boys, though. I don't mind Thomas terribly, but the others are pretty much unsalvagable. My immediate ancestors include a Martin, a Howard, a Moses, a Leo and a Milo. I actually sort of like Milo, but Jasmin would never let me get away with it. Not that someone named Jasmin gets a lot of street cred with me when it comes to names.