At that charming party wherein I learned the horrible names Trinitee, Infinitee, Jiggs, Toy, etc., I was bombarded with suggestions for this blog. I wrote them all down -- they were excellent, really -- and then stupidly lost the piece of paper that held all these treasures.
If you were at Jenn's birthday dinner and lobbed scary names at me, please be so good as to email your names to firstname.lastname@example.org so I may put them in a less easily lost place, such as, oh, my computer's hard drive, or perhaps I will tattoo them on my skin.
I do remember a couple from the party, though. They shared something special in common. A prefix. Prefix names have always scared me just a little bit. They're common in Mormon families; I was raised in one, so I know what I'm talking about. But really, you can find them anywhere.
Usually some kind of prefix will be added to an otherwise normal name, lending, I suppose, a little more flair. It's like BeDazzling your jean jacket. Only it's a name. That a person must wear as a label. For the rest of her life.
And sometimes, mommies don't think too hard about how the prefix will make the otherwise normal name sound when it's applied. Thus, there is at least one woman out there named Latrina. (For you Brits reading, that's like naming your daughter Loo.) (I know you already knew what "latrine" means. I was trying to make a joke.) (I'm sorry. I won't do that again.)
Sometimes, though, it's not the aural effect that's disquieting. Sometimes the whole name is just out there. LaPleasure. Need I say more?
Thanks, Jenn's birthday guests! Now please send me more.
7 hours ago