0
Made my bed...
Posted by The Red Devil
on
Sunday, October 19, 2008
in
Bad Day,
Death upon me,
Funny,
Life in general
There was a question posed by one of the guys I work with that sort of made me think. He asked: "What comment or question do you hate getting but get all the time?"
I actually have two.
1. What is up with your name?/Seriously, that's your name?/ May I see some legitimate government issued valid identification?
- Yes, I've got three male names. My parents were high on something when they named me. My mother, of course gives out the "beautiful meaning" behind my name every time I bitch about it. Mother, beautiful meaning behind the name and everything will not compensate the fact that I have to explain every single freaking time, that I am indeed a woman.
The frustration is good enough to bottle and sell in the market! It's so freaking tiring already! I've heard and seen every single reaction plausible and possible from people when they meet me in person for the first time.
"Oh my god, you're a girl!" (No shit, Sherlock)
"I thought you were a guy!" (And I thought you had brains)
"Your name is all guy's names." (Your point is?)
"Did your parents really name you that?" (No. I chose it. My parents named me Pussy Asslicker. I thought this name's better, although your reaction is making me think otherwise)
***
2. I also hate it when people ask me about my former job. I'm not the one to chase after notoriety and shun it in the end. I never chased after notoriety anyway.
When I was in showbusiness, it was all but a job for me. It was great, it was mildly amusing and in general, compensatory however, it was just that for me - A JOB.
I honestly get embarrassed when people tell me they saw me on TV or something. I don't want them to look at me like I'm a freak. It was a job, no big deal, now let it go. It's like going fangirl/fanguy on a dentist - gushing how you were so excited when you saw him extricate a molar. It's freak ass creepy.
***
But, at the end of the day, the fact is, I have made my bed so I have to sleep on it. Ihave tod eal with my name the same way I have to deal with my former occupation.
Real life sucks.
I actually have two.
1. What is up with your name?/Seriously, that's your name?/ May I see some legitimate government issued valid identification?
- Yes, I've got three male names. My parents were high on something when they named me. My mother, of course gives out the "beautiful meaning" behind my name every time I bitch about it. Mother, beautiful meaning behind the name and everything will not compensate the fact that I have to explain every single freaking time, that I am indeed a woman.
The frustration is good enough to bottle and sell in the market! It's so freaking tiring already! I've heard and seen every single reaction plausible and possible from people when they meet me in person for the first time.
"Oh my god, you're a girl!" (No shit, Sherlock)
"I thought you were a guy!" (And I thought you had brains)
"Your name is all guy's names." (Your point is?)
"Did your parents really name you that?" (No. I chose it. My parents named me Pussy Asslicker. I thought this name's better, although your reaction is making me think otherwise)
***
2. I also hate it when people ask me about my former job. I'm not the one to chase after notoriety and shun it in the end. I never chased after notoriety anyway.
When I was in showbusiness, it was all but a job for me. It was great, it was mildly amusing and in general, compensatory however, it was just that for me - A JOB.
I honestly get embarrassed when people tell me they saw me on TV or something. I don't want them to look at me like I'm a freak. It was a job, no big deal, now let it go. It's like going fangirl/fanguy on a dentist - gushing how you were so excited when you saw him extricate a molar. It's freak ass creepy.
***
But, at the end of the day, the fact is, I have made my bed so I have to sleep on it. Ihave tod eal with my name the same way I have to deal with my former occupation.
Real life sucks.
