Well, I did it again. Yesterday, I used the word
vagina and I once again lost a follower! I even used the strike-through on it, and still, the follower struck out. The truly ironic thing is that this person showed up here from a blog called Sara Swears A Lot. And if you're not reading Sara Swears a Lot, you're doing yourself a great disservice. Let me give you a synopsis of the blog: The author's name is Sara, and she swears. A lot.
One of Sara's favorite words? Vagina. Yes, I just linked to myself right there. Bad form? Maybe. But that whole Latin Lesson was about vaginae. Anyway, I find it quite amusing about the whole losing a follower thing in this case. Well, I find that shit amusing, anyway, but in this particular case, it's even funnier.
So, last night, my friend, the Brewing Optometrist, called me. He was calling to deliver the happy news that he was a father for the fourth time! A beautiful, healthy baby girl! Seven pounds even, nineteen inches long, brown hair, green eyes.
And her name...uh...well...*scratches head* See, there's the problem. They don't have a name. Every name he suggests, his wife shoots down. Every name she suggests, he shoots down. He called his brother for advice, and he lead off with "What about Triana?", referencing Dr. Orpheus' daughter from the Venture Brothers. When the Brewing Optometrist shot that down, his brother continued to name every female character from the Venture Brothers, including, I presume, Dr. Girlfriend. Or whatever her name is now.
I immediately went with "Eurydice"...because of the connection to Orpheus. Plus, later in life, when his youngest begins dating, the Brewing Optometrist can tell her suitor in his best Dr. Orpheus voice "Do not go in there!" and then point at the nameless child.
You'd have to watch the show to get the brilliance of that joke.
Anyway, he shot down Eurydice, so I went to my backup plan: Latin female names. Strangely enough, I have a list of them here on my desk. Oh, alright, I've been meaning to do a post like this for a while, but I couldn't think up a clever way to lead into it. Fortunately, my best friend from my formative years can't pick out a name from the myriad of girl names on the roster and hang it on his newborn daughter, thus allowing me easy access to penning this lovely post.
Here's the names, with what they mean:
Beatrice: "making happiness"
Clara: "clear, bright"
Laura: "laurel; triumph"
Julia/Julie: "descended from the Julian line; devoted to the worship of Jove"
Alma: "nourishing, kind, generous"
Sylvia: "of the forest"
Gratia/Grace: "grace; charm; loveliness"
Miranda: "she who must be admired"
Amanda: "she who must be loved"
Barbara: "foreign, savage, blah blah blah (literally)"
Of these, he liked "Clara" the best and tucked it into his thinking cap for later. Everything that begins with an A is out...for some reason. He didn't specify, but it could be that they have a couple of A names in their family already.
Margarita was also a term of endearment, like we would use "dear" or "honey". It also has given me an assumed name for my aunt when I go to write the story of my childhood that my wife wants me to pen, since "Pearl" is a nickname for Margaret (which is derived from Margarita). How it came to also be the name of a delicious drink which causes me to pass out in a bucket of cheeseballs, I'm not sure. Perhaps it's a story for another day.
However, I don't look a gift horse in the mouth (yes, I linked myself again! I put a lot of effort into that post. Plus, mostly naked Daniel Radcliffe!). So, while we're on the subject of margaritas...
Pronounced: "Froo-stah tame-poos cohn-tair-oh oor-bay mar-gar-ee-tie!"
Damn. Now I'm thirsty.
Which is good, because it has gotten hot here...again! Motherfuckers told me last weekend that this past week would be very pleasant and lovely, so I shut off the air conditioner. Now, my balls are sweaty. I blame you, terrible weather prognosticators of the Triangle area. Don't think you're escaping my wrath, either, Weather Channel. You're just as guilty in this.
Plus, Notre Dame is up to their best damned Notre Daminess, which is to say, frustrating me to the point of tears and causing Bad Notre Dame Daddy to come out in earnest. But it's okay, because we've got
Stay thirsty, my friends.