Name, name, what's in a name? / A rose by any other name would smell as sweet...

I'm a lemming. So sue me.

According to the Name Regenerator, "Rebecca Elizabeth Helton" can now be read as:

Stylish: Verda Nolcha (ick)
Traditional: Marilu Sovann (WTF?)
Wild: Rowan Kerri (not bad, actually; I could live with this)
Creative: Juno Marcena (uh-huuuuh...)
Natural: Mirit Lynna (someone trying to spell "merit" and failing miserably?)
Quiet: Tauret Moon (if I were a character in someone's fantasy epic, maybe, or some new age psychic down towards Belmont...)
Friendly: Guillermina Tariana (because it's just so friendly to have a tongue-twister of a name...)
Philosophical: Tallulah Lareina (TALLULAH???)
Ambitious: Esmerelda Cheryl (hey! It's almost normal...)


Have never been quite so glad to have a fairly common name, even if nobody can spell either the first or last ones right on the first try...

(no subject)

We tried taking the kitten inside tonight. It was great on its own in the house--it climbed up onto the back of my computer chair and sat there, purring by my ear, for a nice long while. No matter how great a dog is, there's nothing quite like a cat purring. Anyway, then we let Sammie (the bigger and older of the two dogs) in. She and the cat were fine together. Sort of wary, but okay. And then we let Cricket in. This was the third time they've been in each other's presence, and yet again, Cricket tried to kill the poor kitten. Seriously, the cat was situated on a chair in between a pillow and Mom's purse, and Cricket was on the other side of the purse being held by Mom. She made serious inroads in chewing up the purse while trying to get to the kitten, and there's no doubt of what she would've done to the poor little guy if she got close enough.

So, yeah, no kitten for us. Stupid dog...

*

Other than that, it's been a blah kind of day. Sat in front of the computer with a heating pad and a bottle of Advil for most of the day. Started a fic where I tortured Sam with cramps and a backache so I wouldn't be alone in my suffering, but decided not to be that cruel. Dad coming home with vanilla caramel brownie ice cream around dinnertime was a big component in my change of heart. ;)

Went outside to play with the cat for several long spells...remind me never to do that again. I have thirteen mosquito bites and at least one chigger bite to show for my trouble. (For those who don't have them, chiggers are little red bugs whose bites itch about twenty times worse than a mosquito's, and last for at least a week.

*

I'm going to Belle Meade Mansion to see an exhibit on Victorian death and mourning practices with fiara tomorrow. It sounds really interesting--this is the covering-mirrors-for-a-week, keeping-hair-in-a-box type stuff. If you've read Huck Finn, you know what this is about. When my family and I were cleaning out this house so we could move in (my grandparents lived here from the 50s 'til the early 90s, and then my aunt and cousin lived here for various periods of time), we found a box filled with curly locks of hair from either my grandmother or her mother, I forget which. It was kind of disgusting, actually. Scared the hell out of me when Dad handed me the box with an evil grin on his face...I opened it and practically had a heart attack, 'cause it looked like a big tarantula at first glace, all dark and fuzzy.

Ahem. And now, with that lovely thought, I take my leave...