"Are we really going to do this?"
Yes. We really are. And we're going to start with an e-mail from KQ:
"I have to admit, I was a bit rushed last week and one day I started to read your Name Game blog, got about a third of the way through and figured it wasn't anything new or pressing, and I'd just skip that one and catch up later."
[By which she means: it was way too long and boring, so she didn't read it. And I don't blame her. But I'm serious blogger, and that means writing the long, boring stuff when required.]
"Well, yesterday my mom called to have me walk her through sending you her list of names (hope it got to you in a readable format)"
[Her Mom is Mrs. Queeney, who did send the attachment, but it was NOT readable, so I'll be re-typing ONE HUNDRED names instead of copying them electronically. --Because she did send them on hard copy, making the capital investment in this project now 88 cents. I figure that Mrs. Queeney owes me something for the inconvenience, so I ripped off her title, "Here Come the Girls" and used it as my own.]
"and I thought, "Wait, we started the womens' names now? how could I have missed that?"
"Upon re-reading, to the end, the entry of that day last week I felt terribly guilty for having abandoned the cause. I stepped out of the race, and you can't do that so we can't either."
Yes, KQ. Exactly. I'm not sure how or when this thing became a metaphor, but it has and it is and we shall persevere.
Speaking of those who picked up on the metaphorical point, let me say that when I logged in the day after the last Name Game post and found Suzanne's 80 entries, and those of a few more who got right one it, I started to cry. I really did. And it's not just because I'm menopausal now and my hormones have declared an unbridled Senior Ditch kind of day.
So.
What are we looking at here?
First, a few more men's names:
from KQ: "Seamus" from Pink Floyd's song
From Mrs. Queeney: Stan, "The Ascent of Stan" (Upon checking, we already have "Stan")
"Mighty Quinn" (though I can't believe that didn't end up in that long Irish list. . .)
"Clyde" from "Bonnie and. . ."
My parents are in town and the OOO has failed to come up with the musical number Mrs. Queeney challenged him with. I'm not going to tell him, either. He'll have to pry that rusty trap open. . .
Emily gave us "Rudolph" from Reindeer fame. Huh! Right there in front of us this whole time. . .
And Amanda gave us "Jason," from a song titled "Birdhouse in Your Soul."
My brother--yes, I have a brother, though so far you've all only heard from various sisters--phoned in "Bad Bones Billy" from Springsteen's "Rosalita."
We've already got Billy, of course. And the judges are not taking names qualified as nicknames to be different submissions. Though we WILL take "Rosalita" for the women's list.
I mention this failed submission to the men's list only to point out that I'm NOT going to point out that my brother has a giant goose egg next to his name while all his sisters have faithfully posted numbers in the double digits. But, like I said, I'm not going to point that out.
Finally, I have a men's name to submit. Suzanne claimed a HER moment for not coming up with Don Quixote. I'm going to double down on that and point out that we then BOTH missed, in that theme song, the name "Sancho." DOH!!!
If you look on the left of the page in the labels, there is one titled "Name List: Men's" and one titled "Name List: Women's." That's where the complete list will be posted from now on because these lists will become too long to have up on one page that can be displayed.
And the men's list is now 202 names long.
One question for the judges came up: Are we taking instrumental songs that feature a name in the title but, obviously, no lyrics?
No.
And another timely clarification: Multiple spellings of the same name do not count as different names for the list. So all the Amy's, Aime's, Amee's, Aimee's, and Aymie's out there amount to one magnificent name for the list.
Now, if you peruse the comments section of the last Name Game post, you will find all the submissions so far, save Mrs. Queeney's list of 100, which are going to magically appear on the Name List and if you have any questions as to where they are from, you'll have to ask. But for the others, you can check the comments.
Let me also surmise here that Suzanne's list of 80, on which Sister #1, who has already excelled these into a sheet for me, commented, 'That woman is a nut," --came not from any kind of research, but from the top of Suzanne's head.
We are already so well past 200 submissions that I have no idea how many have been duplicated. Let me fiddle with the list here and get back to you. . .
Huh! A lot of duplicates. Not duplicate songs, but many, many names appear in more than one tune. Interesting. And a definite advantage for the men's names because a good number of them are probable one and onlies. (e.g "Shaugnessey"--come on. You're not gonna find that name in too many places. Or "Maurice." I mean, seriously.)
So our women's list now totals 182. That's a bang up start! Well done.
The judges had to make another ruling, by the way. What are we to do with names like "Peggy Sue." Count Peggy and Sue? Sure. Two names. But count it, also, as "Peggy Sue" and therefore different from "Peggy"?
Nope. Talk about leaving the door open to the Irish. . .
OK, team. 618 names to go. 9 weeks to find them.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Name List - Girls
- Abilene
- Adelaide (and Adelita)
- Adia
- Aida
- Alberta
- Aldonza
- Alexa
- Alexandra
- Alice
- Allison
- Amanda
- Amy
- Angela
- Angelene
- Angelina
- Angie
- Anna
- Annabella
- Babette
- Barbara Ann
- Bella
- Bernadette
- Bertha
- Bessie
- Bette
- Billy Jack
- Billy Jean
- Bobby Jean
- Bonnie
- Brandy
- Brenda
- Candy
- Cara
- Carlene
- Carol
- Carolina
- Caroline
- Carrie Ann
- Cathy
- Cecilia
- Charlotte
- Chelsea
- Cher
- Cherry
- Cheyenne
- Christine
- Cinthia
- Claire
- Claudette
- Corinna
- Crystal
- Daisy
- Daria
- Dawn
- Debra
- Delila
- Diana
- Diane
- Dinah
- Dolly
- Donna
- Dot
- Dulcenia
- Eileen
- Eleanor
- Elena
- Elise
- Emily
- Erica
- Evangeline
- Fancy
- Fanny
- Georgette
- Georgia
- Georgie
- Gidget
- Gigi
- Gina
- Ginger
- Gloria
- Grace
- Guenevere
- Helga
- Holly
- Irene
- Iris
- Jackie
- Jane
- Janice
- Janie
- Jean
- Jenny
- Jessica
- Jessie
- Jezebel
- Joanna
- Jolene
- Josie
- Judy
- Julia
- Julie
- Juliet
- Katie
- Lady Jane
- Laura
- Laurie
- Layla
- Leslie
- Leyna
- Lily
- Lisa
- Lola
- Lorelei
- Louise
- Lucille
- Lucy
- Lulu
- Madeline
- Maggie
- Mame
- Mandy
- Margie
- Maria
- Mariah
- Marian (as in "the librarian," so, different from Marianne)
- Marianne
- Marie
- Marilyn
- Martha
- Mary
- Mary Lou
- Maxine
- May
- Melissa
- Michelle
- Minnie
- Molly
- Mona Lisa
- Monica
- Nancy
- Nanette
- Natasha
- Nicki
- Norma
- Ophelia
- Pam
- Pamela
- Patricia
- Paulina
- Pearl
- Peggy
- Peggy Sue
- Penny
- Pippi
- Rachel
- Rapunzel
- Rhiannon
- Rhonda
- Rita
- Rosalita
- Rosalyn
- Rosanna
- Rose
- Rosemary
- Rosie
- Roxanne
- Roxie
- Ruby
- Sabrina
- Sally
- Samantha
- Sandra
- Sandra Dee
- Sandy
- Sara
- Sharon
- Sheila
- Shiloh
- Sherry
- Shirley
- Stella
- Stephanie
- Sue
- Susanna
- Susie-Q
- Suzanne
- Tallulah
- Tammy
- Tanya
- Taylor
- Tilly
- Tina
- Valerie
- Vanessa
- Venus
- Vera
- Veronica
- Virginia
- Wendy
- Windy
- Yoko
Wellness Update
It's Wednesday morning! I never got around to posting yesterday!
The sores have arrived. A common side effect, they say. "Sores," is really a euphamism for "pimples in unlikely places"--e.g. inside my nose, some in my mouth and now one in my eyelid. I will call Dr. Science in a few minutes to ask for a salve. And if he tells me I have to see an optomologist, I'll call Dr. Mayfield and beg. The last time I had a stye in my eye like this was 11 years ago, 2 weeks before my wedding, and the nurse at Student Health hooked me up with a tube of magic. So who needs an optomologist?
Other than this, I'm coming off this last round pretty well. It was a huge help to have Laura here. Aside from all the cooking she did, it was nice just to have someone around to save me from loneliness. For round 4, I'll be making dates with friends who'll come over and drive me somewhere else for a little outing each day.
Mom, Dad, Aunt Jill and Uncle Fe arrive today, God Willing. They'll stay for the week, and we have lots of fun planned. I'll post on Friday to keep up with The Name Game. As the women's names have started, I dare not fall too far behind.
(What??? The women's names started? Oh, yes. For those who didn't read the whole, long, plodding post on Friday, skip to the end to learn why it is we're actually going to do the women's names.)
Besides The Name Game, I won't be back here until next Thursday.
And, hey, in the meantime, won't you all lift up my friend Parin in your prayers? It's the oddest thing that I've woken two mornings in a row with her on my mind. Jason is in the midst of a 13 month deployment in Iraq, and while they are past the half-way point, there's still a long way to go. They have 2 little ones the same age as ours and, honestly, I think I'd rather have my right breast cut off than have to walk the road she's on right now.
Bless you, Parin! And thank you for your fine service to us all!!!
The sores have arrived. A common side effect, they say. "Sores," is really a euphamism for "pimples in unlikely places"--e.g. inside my nose, some in my mouth and now one in my eyelid. I will call Dr. Science in a few minutes to ask for a salve. And if he tells me I have to see an optomologist, I'll call Dr. Mayfield and beg. The last time I had a stye in my eye like this was 11 years ago, 2 weeks before my wedding, and the nurse at Student Health hooked me up with a tube of magic. So who needs an optomologist?
Other than this, I'm coming off this last round pretty well. It was a huge help to have Laura here. Aside from all the cooking she did, it was nice just to have someone around to save me from loneliness. For round 4, I'll be making dates with friends who'll come over and drive me somewhere else for a little outing each day.
Mom, Dad, Aunt Jill and Uncle Fe arrive today, God Willing. They'll stay for the week, and we have lots of fun planned. I'll post on Friday to keep up with The Name Game. As the women's names have started, I dare not fall too far behind.
(What??? The women's names started? Oh, yes. For those who didn't read the whole, long, plodding post on Friday, skip to the end to learn why it is we're actually going to do the women's names.)
Besides The Name Game, I won't be back here until next Thursday.
And, hey, in the meantime, won't you all lift up my friend Parin in your prayers? It's the oddest thing that I've woken two mornings in a row with her on my mind. Jason is in the midst of a 13 month deployment in Iraq, and while they are past the half-way point, there's still a long way to go. They have 2 little ones the same age as ours and, honestly, I think I'd rather have my right breast cut off than have to walk the road she's on right now.
Bless you, Parin! And thank you for your fine service to us all!!!
Monday, September 21, 2009
The Many Toppers of Amy Ponce!
To start with, this is how bald I am now:
Eyebrows getting fainter. Eyelashes still kind of hanging in there. . .
I took the opportunity of my sister's visit to have a little photo shoot of the various hats and wigs at my disposal. I brought them all down to the kitchen table and donned one after another before standing in the same spot outside my house for the pic.
In the midst of it, Laura asked whether I liked being able to do the wig thing. You know, change one's look in 3 seconds or less.
I kind of do. Specifically, I like that looking a certain way now requires such little time and maintenance. Maybe I'll keep my head shaved all the rest of my days. . .
To start with, because you are all dying to see the Pink Look:
I did wear this wig to pick Laura up at the Denver airport. She requested it! How could I refuse?
We had made contact my cell phone by the time I was at passenger pick-up, and I was out of the car, watching her walk down the long stretch towards me. She got within 4 feet and was still looking for me when I finally revealed myself.
Which is funny. Because no one else there had pink hair.
Now, this next wig is one I had high hopes for. Looked really cute on the on-line model. But something about the hairline doesn't and won't look right on me. Alas, I will just save it for Crazy Hair Day at AWANA.
Here is one of two hats I made this week. This is the one I made big enough to go over a wig, for the very cold days. It matches my wool coat, which is handy. But I realize now I need to make both a black one and a brown one so I'll have something to match each of my furs!
This is the other hat I made this week. Small enough to fit snugly without the wig. It's warmer than my baseball cap, but still breathes nicely. . .
This is a knit cap my neighbor gave me. I feel very artistic when wearing it. And I used to wear it a lot. But now it feels especially snug. Did my head get bigger? Seriously. It's really weird.
This is a jazzy number I found at the bookstore where Laura, Mandy and I went for lunch last week. I wear it whenever I'm wearing black, red or white or a combination thereof.
And this is the hat I found at Dillard's, the shopping trip I mentioned a little while ago. It's not clear in the photo, but there is a sparkly thread throughout that gives it a little extra sass. This hat is so comfortable and it covers a lot while still being dainty.
I do have another hat, a fabulous floppy sun hat that my friend, Tracy, sent. But the photo of it didn't turn out well and I'm too lazy to get Bryan to take another one. It's the one I wear when I'm sitting outside with the kids and when I'm wearing it, I feel quite at my leisure.
And, finally, my two "daily" wigs. You've seen them both before, but the blonde one really threw you all for a loop. I think when I'm wearing lipstick and not a grey sweatshirt, the wig is done a little more justice.
And, of course, my brunette number.
There you have it! At any given moment, I look like one of these.
Eyebrows getting fainter. Eyelashes still kind of hanging in there. . .I took the opportunity of my sister's visit to have a little photo shoot of the various hats and wigs at my disposal. I brought them all down to the kitchen table and donned one after another before standing in the same spot outside my house for the pic.
In the midst of it, Laura asked whether I liked being able to do the wig thing. You know, change one's look in 3 seconds or less.
I kind of do. Specifically, I like that looking a certain way now requires such little time and maintenance. Maybe I'll keep my head shaved all the rest of my days. . .
To start with, because you are all dying to see the Pink Look:
I did wear this wig to pick Laura up at the Denver airport. She requested it! How could I refuse?
We had made contact my cell phone by the time I was at passenger pick-up, and I was out of the car, watching her walk down the long stretch towards me. She got within 4 feet and was still looking for me when I finally revealed myself.
Which is funny. Because no one else there had pink hair.
Now, this next wig is one I had high hopes for. Looked really cute on the on-line model. But something about the hairline doesn't and won't look right on me. Alas, I will just save it for Crazy Hair Day at AWANA.
Here is one of two hats I made this week. This is the one I made big enough to go over a wig, for the very cold days. It matches my wool coat, which is handy. But I realize now I need to make both a black one and a brown one so I'll have something to match each of my furs!
This is the other hat I made this week. Small enough to fit snugly without the wig. It's warmer than my baseball cap, but still breathes nicely. . .
This is a knit cap my neighbor gave me. I feel very artistic when wearing it. And I used to wear it a lot. But now it feels especially snug. Did my head get bigger? Seriously. It's really weird.
This is a jazzy number I found at the bookstore where Laura, Mandy and I went for lunch last week. I wear it whenever I'm wearing black, red or white or a combination thereof.
And this is the hat I found at Dillard's, the shopping trip I mentioned a little while ago. It's not clear in the photo, but there is a sparkly thread throughout that gives it a little extra sass. This hat is so comfortable and it covers a lot while still being dainty.
I do have another hat, a fabulous floppy sun hat that my friend, Tracy, sent. But the photo of it didn't turn out well and I'm too lazy to get Bryan to take another one. It's the one I wear when I'm sitting outside with the kids and when I'm wearing it, I feel quite at my leisure.
And, finally, my two "daily" wigs. You've seen them both before, but the blonde one really threw you all for a loop. I think when I'm wearing lipstick and not a grey sweatshirt, the wig is done a little more justice.
And, of course, my brunette number.
There you have it! At any given moment, I look like one of these.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Sunday Storytime: Real Estate
I love this term. Real estate. Not fake estate. Estate that is real. Love it.
I was thinking this week of the times when Bryan and I have seen God's Hand in our lives, working to bring us along to where He wants us to be. One story came to mind, and I suppose it's the kind of thing that another might experience and simply say, "How nice that things worked out." But that statement only makes sense if there is no God interested in us personally. If there is such a God, then things don't "just work out."
So here's a story of real estate that God worked out for us.
We had been married for just a year and were living in Jacksonville, Florida when we scheduled our house-hunting trip to Norfolk, Virginia. There was a lot going on: Many good-byes to say, a long road trip through the midwest to do before Bryan reported for duty, a house to pack out of and close on. We'd sold it very quickly, and went to Norfolk without any contingency hanging over our heads.
Maybe that's why we thought arriving on a Thursday afternoon and leaving on a Sunday morning would be enough time to find a place to live.
We weren't set on buying. If nothing had panned out, we would have been content to rent. But we'd been in touch with Jeannette, a realtor, and she'd set up some appointments for Friday. It was to our advantage that Bryan had been stationed there before, and he knew roughly what neighborhoods would be good both for an investment and for his commute.
Our drive started at the crack of dawn on Thursday. We arrived in time for me to go to an interview with the English Department at Old Dominion University on Thursday afternoon. I was applying to be an adjunct professor of English, and in that interview, the Department Head said to me, "A lot of these students are walking ignoramuses and we have to teach them to think. I mean, this is Jerry Falwell country!"
Ah, Academia. Always fighting the good fight against ignorant Christians.
I did say something. Along the lines of, "Yes, I'm all for helping my students become critical thinkers. And as I probably agree a lot more with Jerry Falwell than I do with, say, you, I also want to help equip students to argue against whatever bias confronts them."
She nearly choked. And I got the job because, as all English Departments are, she was desperate for adjunct professors. (And she was a really great boss, I liked working with her those 2 years.)
So, I left the office with a job and the campus was in a neighborhood called Larchmont, which was one Bryan had told the realtor we were interested in.
The next morning, we met with said realtor and looked at 6 different houses. I love looking at houses to buy! It's so much fun to imagine life in each one. This is the first time I'd gone house-hunting and it felt like a day of treats.
A fifth house was a so-so option.
And then there was house #6. Owned by Mrs. White for 40 years. She was moving to a retirement home and her kids had called Jeannette the day before our arrival to put it on the market. They wanted to spend about 4 grand re-doing the plaster and paint before showing it, but Jeannette told them about a "nice young couple" coming to town and arranged for a showing on Friday--Mrs. White didn't even have to leave the house.
Oh, that sweet little house! It was a 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom post-war dollhouse with a huge backyard beautifully landscaped over the years by Mrs. White, an avid gardener and lover of flowering shrubs.
We offered their asking price minus the 4 grand that afternoon. They accepted that night. We had an inspector in that Saturday morning and then left town under contract.
Gosh, I loved that house. . . We did a little project on it--knocked out the wall between the kitchen and the small bedroom and then made double french doors onto the screened-in porch. When we left Norfolk, we thought it would be for just 1 year. But then 1 year of Army War College turned into a second. And that second year turned into a tour in Korea. And by the time we got overseas, it was clear we wouldn't head back to Norfolk.
We'd been renting this house, but while in Korea, it became clear that it was time to sell. Either that, or we'd have to hold that mortgage in addition to whatever we got in the Springs. It looked like the price would be good in Virginia, so we had it appraised. The guy's advice was to ask for what would have been 160% what we paid. That was good news.
Then we hooked up with a realtor who said, no, no, we should ask a lot more. And it sold within a week for 210% what we paid for it.
Ha! How about that!
Now, I don't think this happened because it's God's goal to make us rich. We don't want to be rich, and I'm certain God doesn't care whether we are. (And, of course, just by being Americans, we already are very wealthy.) We have been able to see some of the effects of that Norfolk house already--it has been used for good in a lot of lives, some while we were still there, some after we left, some through that sale.
But the bigger picture? Just how "God uses ALL things for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose"? That complete reveal remains to be seen. Just as every event--whether one we welcome like a great house story, or one we have to persevere through, like breast cancer--will be revealed.
What we know for certain is that things didn't just "work out" with the Norfolk house. Are things are not just "working out" with breast cancer. If God is real, then His hand really is really working.
I was thinking this week of the times when Bryan and I have seen God's Hand in our lives, working to bring us along to where He wants us to be. One story came to mind, and I suppose it's the kind of thing that another might experience and simply say, "How nice that things worked out." But that statement only makes sense if there is no God interested in us personally. If there is such a God, then things don't "just work out."
So here's a story of real estate that God worked out for us.
We had been married for just a year and were living in Jacksonville, Florida when we scheduled our house-hunting trip to Norfolk, Virginia. There was a lot going on: Many good-byes to say, a long road trip through the midwest to do before Bryan reported for duty, a house to pack out of and close on. We'd sold it very quickly, and went to Norfolk without any contingency hanging over our heads.
Maybe that's why we thought arriving on a Thursday afternoon and leaving on a Sunday morning would be enough time to find a place to live.
We weren't set on buying. If nothing had panned out, we would have been content to rent. But we'd been in touch with Jeannette, a realtor, and she'd set up some appointments for Friday. It was to our advantage that Bryan had been stationed there before, and he knew roughly what neighborhoods would be good both for an investment and for his commute.
Our drive started at the crack of dawn on Thursday. We arrived in time for me to go to an interview with the English Department at Old Dominion University on Thursday afternoon. I was applying to be an adjunct professor of English, and in that interview, the Department Head said to me, "A lot of these students are walking ignoramuses and we have to teach them to think. I mean, this is Jerry Falwell country!"
Ah, Academia. Always fighting the good fight against ignorant Christians.
I did say something. Along the lines of, "Yes, I'm all for helping my students become critical thinkers. And as I probably agree a lot more with Jerry Falwell than I do with, say, you, I also want to help equip students to argue against whatever bias confronts them."
She nearly choked. And I got the job because, as all English Departments are, she was desperate for adjunct professors. (And she was a really great boss, I liked working with her those 2 years.)
So, I left the office with a job and the campus was in a neighborhood called Larchmont, which was one Bryan had told the realtor we were interested in.
The next morning, we met with said realtor and looked at 6 different houses. I love looking at houses to buy! It's so much fun to imagine life in each one. This is the first time I'd gone house-hunting and it felt like a day of treats.
A fifth house was a so-so option.
And then there was house #6. Owned by Mrs. White for 40 years. She was moving to a retirement home and her kids had called Jeannette the day before our arrival to put it on the market. They wanted to spend about 4 grand re-doing the plaster and paint before showing it, but Jeannette told them about a "nice young couple" coming to town and arranged for a showing on Friday--Mrs. White didn't even have to leave the house.
Oh, that sweet little house! It was a 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom post-war dollhouse with a huge backyard beautifully landscaped over the years by Mrs. White, an avid gardener and lover of flowering shrubs.
We offered their asking price minus the 4 grand that afternoon. They accepted that night. We had an inspector in that Saturday morning and then left town under contract.
Gosh, I loved that house. . . We did a little project on it--knocked out the wall between the kitchen and the small bedroom and then made double french doors onto the screened-in porch. When we left Norfolk, we thought it would be for just 1 year. But then 1 year of Army War College turned into a second. And that second year turned into a tour in Korea. And by the time we got overseas, it was clear we wouldn't head back to Norfolk.
We'd been renting this house, but while in Korea, it became clear that it was time to sell. Either that, or we'd have to hold that mortgage in addition to whatever we got in the Springs. It looked like the price would be good in Virginia, so we had it appraised. The guy's advice was to ask for what would have been 160% what we paid. That was good news.
Then we hooked up with a realtor who said, no, no, we should ask a lot more. And it sold within a week for 210% what we paid for it.
Ha! How about that!
Now, I don't think this happened because it's God's goal to make us rich. We don't want to be rich, and I'm certain God doesn't care whether we are. (And, of course, just by being Americans, we already are very wealthy.) We have been able to see some of the effects of that Norfolk house already--it has been used for good in a lot of lives, some while we were still there, some after we left, some through that sale.
But the bigger picture? Just how "God uses ALL things for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose"? That complete reveal remains to be seen. Just as every event--whether one we welcome like a great house story, or one we have to persevere through, like breast cancer--will be revealed.
What we know for certain is that things didn't just "work out" with the Norfolk house. Are things are not just "working out" with breast cancer. If God is real, then His hand really is really working.
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