Jenna tagged me for a middle name meme. It's taken me a good week to do it, because I've got a bunch of tricky letters, and I couldn't quite come up with what I wanted. I'm still not sure if I'm happy with the result, but it's been long enough.
However, I had to bend the rule, because I wasn't given a middle name. Legally, my middle name is my maiden name, Luthy, so that's what we're using:
L-Linguistic. Thanks to both Mom (a book fanatic), and Dad (an actual inguist, as in PhD, retired professor of Linguistics), I've developed a passion for words and language. Although I was an English major, my favorite classes weren't the ones about literature, but about the English Language. (Too bad there were only 3 like that.) My OED on CD is one of my favorite toys in the world. I love learning about etymologies. Listening to my kids learn to speak was delightful not just in a growing-up sense: I loved hearing my son flip the velar stop and the alveolar nasal in one word. This stuff fascinates me. If I ever go to grad school, it'll be hard to decide what to study. Linguistics might win.
U-Unique. A nice way of saying I'm weird. And I am, on so many levels. I have odd quirks (I have to go to sleep on my left side, I wear socks in the middle of the summer because my feet freeze otherwise, I can't put a red shirt on a pink hanger because that clashes—I could go on forever). But I'm also unique in that there isn't anyone else quite like me, and I think that's a good thing.
T-Tyrant. That is, when it comes to grammar, usage, and punctuation. I get an eye twitch when I see lay/lie used wrong in a published book. I about had a conniption after seeing a t-shirt from a teacher's convention that had a punctuation error. This is particularly bad for my poor editor, who had to deal with my freak-outs about these things. ("Who put that colon in my manuscript?! No, no, no! It should be an em dash!") Run and hide, people. It's safer that way.
H-Huggable. I grew up in a very physically affectionate family (again, thanks, Mom and Dad!). I never left the house, came home, went to bed, or said good-bye without saying and hearing, "I love you," and getting a kiss and a hug. When I became a mom, I couldn't help but hug and kiss and cuddle my kids. I'm such a touch person that I can't fall asleep if my husband doesn't have him arm around me.
Y-Young-looking. Not the blessing everyone seems to think it is. Sure, I know that if this lasts and I look as amazing as Mom does when I'm in my 60s, I'll love it. (People have thought she must be Dad's trophy wife, but they just celebrated their 42nd wedding anniversary.) Until I'm older, having people mistake me for a college student when I'm approaching my mid-30s isn't fun. People treat me like I must be immature and have no life experience. I'm proud of all my years, thank you very much (that's 34 years in December). I'd like credit for them.
As for tagging . . . hmmmm . . . I'll go with Josi and Jules.
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