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And I won't tell no one your name
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greygirlbeast:
What does your first name mean?
Sonya is a Russian diminutive of Sophia: Greek σοφία, "wisdom." (I should be so lucky.) I was named for my great-grandmother on my mother's and her mother's side.
What does your middle name mean?
My first middle name is Leah, which is Hebrew of indeterminate origin; I've seen translations from "weary" to "wild cow" to "mistress," so anyone fluent in Hebrew should feel to comment and enlighten me. A disturbing number of people over the years have assumed from the pronunciation that I was named after Star Wars. My second middle name, which I didn't acquire until midway through childhood, is Glixman—my mother's maiden name and one of the more creatively spelled Ellis Island bastardizations of Glucksmann, "lucky man." Could be worse. Shaun Ferguson.
What does your last name mean?
Taaffe? Have some more indeterminacy.* I've most commonly heard the name explained as a Welsh patronymic for David. (Taffy was a Welshman . . .) I've also seen etymologies based on the rivers Taff or Tâf in Wales. In truth, I haven't the faintest.
So what does your name mean when put together?
Er . . . a little lucky weary Welsh wisdom? In a river? I need fewer adjectives around here.
What would you have been named if you were the opposite gender?
Simon, which I believe is a Hellenized form of the Hebrew name Shimeon. It's connected to the verb "to hear," but I'm not sure in what grammatical capacity; I've never looked it up.
Any other name oddities?
I've never attracted any nickname that stuck. By now, I would probably respond to Sovay, which is itself a variant of Sophia. I have discovered over the years that I'm superstitious about sharing my Hebrew name and I'm not entirely sure why.
Do you like your name?
Yes. It's sort of a cultural smash-up, but I am fond of it.
What do you like best about it?
The aforementioned cultural smash-up seems to have ensured that no one else has the name. (At least, if someone does, she hasn't yet turned up on Google.) And it's peculiar, which might explain why I'm always giving my characters the kind of names that makefleurdelis28's longstanding challenge to use the spam name "Cadfael Aronowitz" in one of my stories sound, sadly, not implausible at all.
What do you like least about it?
The apparent inability of 99% of the population to pronounce my last name properly. I was most impressed by the telemarketer who managed to insert a voiced glottal stop in between the a's and consequently put about four syllables into it. I'm just waiting for a !Kung click to show up in there somewhere. Oh, and my high school spelled it improperly every year of the yearbook. Even the year I graduated. And my parents sent a letter to the yearbook editors to make sure that it would not be misspelled. That was amusing.
If you had to change your name (witness protection program, whatever), what would you want it to be?
So far I've written down three replies and ruled out each one of them for some reason or another. I may have to think about this one.
*The geography, at least, can be readily traced: the name starts out in Wales, moves to Ireland in the twelfth or thirteenth century, picks up some peerage in the 1600's, relocates to Austria and gathers aristocracy there over the next couple of centuries, and then World War I came along and all the titles went pffft. Not that my branch of the family, which came over in the mid-nineteenth century, would have been in the running for any sort of noble inheritance, but I'm still amused. At least I get to claim kinship, however distant, with some intriguing historical figures.
greygirlbeast:What does your first name mean?
Sonya is a Russian diminutive of Sophia: Greek σοφία, "wisdom." (I should be so lucky.) I was named for my great-grandmother on my mother's and her mother's side.
What does your middle name mean?
My first middle name is Leah, which is Hebrew of indeterminate origin; I've seen translations from "weary" to "wild cow" to "mistress," so anyone fluent in Hebrew should feel to comment and enlighten me. A disturbing number of people over the years have assumed from the pronunciation that I was named after Star Wars. My second middle name, which I didn't acquire until midway through childhood, is Glixman—my mother's maiden name and one of the more creatively spelled Ellis Island bastardizations of Glucksmann, "lucky man." Could be worse. Shaun Ferguson.
What does your last name mean?
Taaffe? Have some more indeterminacy.* I've most commonly heard the name explained as a Welsh patronymic for David. (Taffy was a Welshman . . .) I've also seen etymologies based on the rivers Taff or Tâf in Wales. In truth, I haven't the faintest.
So what does your name mean when put together?
Er . . . a little lucky weary Welsh wisdom? In a river? I need fewer adjectives around here.
What would you have been named if you were the opposite gender?
Simon, which I believe is a Hellenized form of the Hebrew name Shimeon. It's connected to the verb "to hear," but I'm not sure in what grammatical capacity; I've never looked it up.
Any other name oddities?
I've never attracted any nickname that stuck. By now, I would probably respond to Sovay, which is itself a variant of Sophia. I have discovered over the years that I'm superstitious about sharing my Hebrew name and I'm not entirely sure why.
Do you like your name?
Yes. It's sort of a cultural smash-up, but I am fond of it.
What do you like best about it?
The aforementioned cultural smash-up seems to have ensured that no one else has the name. (At least, if someone does, she hasn't yet turned up on Google.) And it's peculiar, which might explain why I'm always giving my characters the kind of names that make
fleurdelis28's longstanding challenge to use the spam name "Cadfael Aronowitz" in one of my stories sound, sadly, not implausible at all. What do you like least about it?
The apparent inability of 99% of the population to pronounce my last name properly. I was most impressed by the telemarketer who managed to insert a voiced glottal stop in between the a's and consequently put about four syllables into it. I'm just waiting for a !Kung click to show up in there somewhere. Oh, and my high school spelled it improperly every year of the yearbook. Even the year I graduated. And my parents sent a letter to the yearbook editors to make sure that it would not be misspelled. That was amusing.
If you had to change your name (witness protection program, whatever), what would you want it to be?
So far I've written down three replies and ruled out each one of them for some reason or another. I may have to think about this one.
*The geography, at least, can be readily traced: the name starts out in Wales, moves to Ireland in the twelfth or thirteenth century, picks up some peerage in the 1600's, relocates to Austria and gathers aristocracy there over the next couple of centuries, and then World War I came along and all the titles went pffft. Not that my branch of the family, which came over in the mid-nineteenth century, would have been in the running for any sort of noble inheritance, but I'm still amused. At least I get to claim kinship, however distant, with some intriguing historical figures.
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Not anything like its original pronunciation: my father's family treats the name as though there's only one of each letter, so it sounds like Tayf. (It's unclear when this happened: my father's father was first-generation in this country, but this seems to have been his pronunciation.) When we visited Ireland, however, everyone looked at the name and said Taff. I know it was a disyllable in Austria. How would it in fact sound in Welsh?
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Erik is the Norwegian variant on Frederick, which, I am told is something along the lines of "stupendous badass in battle, or at least, sulky and passive aggressive as hell when the mood strikes."
What does your middle name mean?
Richard, which is my father's first name and my paternal granfather's middle name, and, ironically, the French, I think, variation on Frederick, which adds a side of moody (my paternal grandmother's sortof maiden name; sort of in that it was her father's name but she was illigitimate).
What does your last name mean?
Norse names are so easy in this regard; Amundsen, as in son of Amund or Asmund (even Osmund?) which means "Protective." I am, apparently, a descendent of one of explorer Roald Amundsen's brothers (he had a raft of them), which I believe looking at pictures. We have the same earsSo what does your name mean when put together?
Put it all together and you get Great, powerful, great powerful protector... That is to say someone who worries way too much kind of suits me.
What would you have been named if you were the opposite gender?
Leeanne Norrina. Reason #7 I signed up for the Y chromasome.
Any other name oddities?
My Chinese name is Da Laohu (Big Tiger) which I got from my boss's 4 year old cousin. When she first came to live with Rainbow, Chien Jin (Ginny) was, of course, terrified of the large hairy western ogre-thing, and avoided it. Once she learned it was harmless, however, she started, one night, to stalk it in the training school , leaping at it from around corners, play snarling and saying "laohu, laohu" a word I didn't know at the time. Merry (the secretary) put me rights on the meaning, so I let Ginny chase me around as "Laohu" for a while, then I stopped, for a second, turned around and told her that she was a small tiger and I was a big tiger and I was going to eat her. Well, I was Da Laohu ever since.
Do you like your name?
I didn't for a long time, but it suits me. I like it.
What do you like best about it?
The K at the end of my first name. If I were an Eric, I would drive me up the wall.
What do you like least about it?
Even among my family, there is no consensus on how to pronounce the last name (I stress the first syllable, as do a minority of the family, the majority stresses the second). It's impossible for other people to spell (it has an almost silent D), even Kate has a hard time spelling it (and I think she plans on taking it) and people pronouncing it like to throw all sorts of letters in there where they do not belong (Asmundsen) or give up and call me Anderson. I'm not terribly fond of Richard as a name, either, even though it is my dad's name. I don't like any of the nicknames it spawns (my father is Rich. Well, no I wish he was rich, even if he didn't give a penny to me, but at least he isn't a di... bah, I can't.)
If you had to change your name (witness protection program, whatever), what would you want it to be?
Having tried on many different names, I've actually got one for traveling and lying to people about who I am when I want to. Matthew Kay, either from Alton NH, or Wolfville, Nova Scotia (depending on whether I am in the states or abroad). He's a school teacher, who teaches either third or fifth grade, and he's a much milder fellow tha Aloysius Watermelontail.
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. . . which is a name whose origin story you've owed me for several weeks now.
Watermelons and Tailors - Part 1
As for Watermelontail it is the portmanteau of watermelon and tailor. Watermelon being the fruit, tailor refering to the sartorial djur, a shadowy race of creatures that like abandonded places, making cloth out of darkness and refining Very Interesting Poisons. They would have found your BPAL experimentation of interest.
I used to bake bagels when I was in school. This involved me getting up at 3:30 in the morning and driving down icy forested roads from Mount Hope (in backwoods Mansfield) to the University of Connecticut in my little red Dodge Rampage. I programmed my body to wake up moments before my alarm clock (so as not to wake my roomate) and was usually still asleep and working on somatic memory by the time the big 6 rack carosel oven was up to temperature.
One morning I woke into a dream of this, drove into work, very distinctly listening to "Cowboys" by Portishead, and let myself in. The lights were on in the kitchen, the boiler was on as well, the stereo was playing the same album, just where I left off, and the oven was on. The bagel shop smelled like a barbecue.
This did not put my mind in any sort of good order. I went into the back. The boiler was going over, and there was something I didn't quite identify (it was slightly meaty) inside it. I turned it down, careful to not get any of the soup that was sheeting down the sides on my hands. The oven door was closed and smoke was pouring out. Again, there was the barbecue, but now the definite smell of burning hair as well.
Portishead was playing "All Mine" on the stereo and it was very loud. I opened the hood.
Watermelons and Tailors - Part 2
Time slips forward again to "Half Day Closing" on the same album; I am with my friends D (male) and B (female) who have (though they can barely tolerate one another's company in waking life) agreed to come with me to the Cirque. The place is seedy and dark inside, painted mostly black, with raised, inset booths along each side, round tables, red lamps and red table candles that you'd find in Italian restaurant's on the patio. It's been decorated with circus posters and there is a little round stage in the front. We sit and wait for a little while. There is a woman singing the song, karaoke up on stage. Her friends are the only other people in the place.
Then the officer gets dragged past the table. At first, it's very hard to see the dragging agency. There are two, small, slight figures. Actually, though this was several years ago (1997), they look somewhat like Skarrow (the creature pictured in the icon, if you're not familiar)similar body plan, features, swept back hair. They are dressed, however, in robes and coats and pants and scarves and things, all of them so dark black that they absorb all the light shining on the exposed skin on the figures wearing them, making the whole appear to be made of shadow. Unlike times that I have met them before, they have no visible auras. They are also wearing very heavy gauntlet type gloves.
The plainclothes officer looks very ill and weak. They drag him in front of the stage and around to the right of it, out the door to the exit and restrooms. I get up and chase them through the door.
One of them is waiting on the other side. He jabs me in the forearm with a trio of spikes that pop out of his gauntlet. The pain, even in a dream, is horrible, and it makes me nauseous. I fall over, as they drag the officer out the back into the red light of the alley behind...
Watermelons and Tailors - Part 3 Where the Watermelons Come In
I went back downstairs to find D slumped over at the table, runners and shoots growing out of his mouth from the poison. The door to the restrooms/exit was swinging, so I went out. I continued into the alley.
There was a series of red lights above that illuminated the whole alley, and, most disturbingly, the remarkably lifelike (if such a word could be used) grafiti mural of Baphomet on the facing wall.
That's about when B walked up in a way that was very unlike B, and tried to tell me something about where they had gone and when she got close enough, knife-handed me in the solar plexus, which caused my body to split like a watermelon.
At which point I woke up a couple of minutes before my alarmclock for my shift at the bagel shop.
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I'd been wondering how the watermelons got into this story.
Truth be told, he looked a lot like the actor who played Ming the Merciless in the versio of Flash Gordon that had the Queen soundtrack.
. . . Max von Sydow?
Thanks for the etiology. Have you ever tried turning this into a piece of fiction?
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*one disbelieving imdb trip later*
... I'll be damned. It's not been since I think the very beginnings of college that I saw Flash, so that would make sense that I wouldn't have recognized him.
The watermelons take a long time to get into the dream, but it is the central image of the whole thing, and what sticks with me to this day. When I imagine the slithering insides of me, I have to push aside that image.
As for making it into something else, maybe. It's a tricky question. I don't think I would write the dream up as a story. I don't think I would do it justice. I did a poem about the tailors (kind of recently), and once wrote them up for a gaming company that employed me long ago, when I was long on deadline and short on ideas, which felt a little tawdry, so I hadn't touched them in a long, long time.
The tailors were sort of a discovery. They were something that a bunch of us sort of "found" or made up or something, I'm not really sure. Whatever was the case, I think I got stuck with them. Not factual creatures in any meaningful sense, they have a little more weight than purely imaginary things because there are a good handful of people who did believe in them for a while and had fairly authentic experiences with them; this makes me hesitate using them.
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Middle name: Neil = champion
Last name: Hammer = ? (it's very common in Bavaria and nowhere else, but I don't know what a Bavarian does when he hamms)
Put it together, we get a victorious champion of the guys who hamm about.
If I'd been a girl: ? (my parents refuse to say)
Oddities: I strongly suspect Laurence is after Lawrence Durrell, though my parents won't confirm that. Neil is from definitely after Niels Bohr, though.
Like?: Yup -- just enough useful diminutives, plus it's got the uncommon spelling thing going for it.
Best part: I translate into most European languages (in Icelandic, I'm Lárus, or some guy named Lars).
Most annoying part: Dealing with uncommon spelling thing.
Change to?: My YA romance pen name is Ellen Hammer (alternate: Laurie Hamm). My erotica pen name is written down in a secure, undisclosed location.
---L.
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. . . Which part of your name is uncommonly spelled? Laurence rather than Lawrence?
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---L.
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Oh my god... I just realized I know you! I'm the one who showed you around Berkeley.... although maybe you've already figured that out.
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I hadn't! (Although if I'd looked at your livejournal profile, I would have: I hadn't forgotten your name.) But I'm very glad to hear from you again. I have good memories of being shown around Berkeley.
Hey. : )
Family ties that bind?
As a new user on this site, I have no clue how to make this query private, or how to direct you to my own e-mail address should you prefer to respond beyond the realm of this journal. Suggestions?
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It's my grandfather (father's father) who was first-generation, but he died in the 1960's and seems to have transmitted few stories; I have an uncle who does genealogical research, however, and I can contact him and see what he knows. I don't doubt that it's the same family. It doesn't seem to be a common last name.
Can you be reached through the address here?
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Many thanks!