How are you defining diminutive? As someone whose name is all diminutive and no name, I'm curious. Because I don't see why

Of or being a suffix that indicates smallness or, by semantic extension, qualities such as youth, familiarity, affection, or contempt

applies more to Stephie than Teppy (in the semantic extension sense, and certainly can be used in search of the same qualities). In my head it's derived more from the spelling than the sound, but similar enough.

I don't see any reason why one wouldn't be great and the other anathema. I just don't get the not-diminutive argument.

MMA Class Report (I know you're all just DYING to hear it)

Last night was the end of my first six weeks and now that I'm going on vacation there will be no hitting and kicking for thirteen days. I have SO drunk the kool-ade here, it is scary how bummed I am about that.

My forearms are getting all Popeye shaped. Hee. My muscle groups take turns hurting. Today its abs! Last night we did high round kicks and my legs can totally take that now -- not hurting. Oooh! And I got to hit with my instructor which is AWESOME because, apparently, the rest of the time I hold back a little. So. Much. Fun.

I know, I know... I'm as boring as people who talk constantly about weightwatchers points. But I could probably kick most of their asses...

sparky1 - I can if you want, but I can also get a rec for a dermatologist down your way. without telling the Committee On Excessive Worry (aka: mom1 and mom2) why of course. One member of said committee has had plenty of experience, given the fact that they used radiation to treat acne when she was a teenager. dumbest thing ever.

All the logic belongs to you, ita, but...I totally get it. Because I find 'Nicky' as applied to me just makes my skin crawl, whereas 'Nic' - which is just as much a diminutive - I like just fine.

I guess in my case there's partly the fact that Nic is more gender neutral and so doesn't ping me so much as a generic diminutive with overtones of common-and-vacuous-little-tart. And it's partly the repetition of the short 'i' sound. Er. It's really not a cool and logical squick at all.

I can see that Stephie is more generic and obvious a reduction of a given name, whereas Teppy only makes sense written down, and it pings me as more of a play on the name rather than a pat-on-the-head, make-you-less-than-you-are kind of thing.

Crumbs. I don't know whether this is making any sense outside of my head.

Would it be totally wierd to put it on?

I think it's weird because it's too close - like I would wear my boyfriend's sweatshirt, ot a close friend's, but otherwise no.

I got thrown in the pool by a bunch of (really hot and cut) Marines in Rio de Janeiro and one of them gave me his Marine sweatpants to wear home. I totally had a little crush on him forever.

I changed my name when I married Hec for a conglomeration of half-assed reasons (my birth name has been spelled and pronounced correctly without extensive coaching by maybe three people ever; not-great relationship with my father's side of the family; Hec's first wife didn't change her name and I was by God going to be the anti-her; and a completely stupid notion that it would signal to Emmett that I was a part of his family, his tribe, not a weird-named interloper invading his territory -- he absolutely could not have cared less, as it turned out, and the only thing that redeemed me from interloper status was bringing Matilda into the world, and he still couldn't care less about my name).

I'm not sure I would go through the hassle of changing it again if I had it to do over, especially since the whole thing has highlighted for me just how much I utterly don't care about my surname one way or the other. My first name is my name; my surname is a useful identifier for bureaucracies and such.

Also, call me Jackie and I will cut you.

ION, Hec is off doing the Emmett commute and I just showered, loaded up the laundry bag, and took the recycling down. It took about 15 minutes, and, because there's no baby-proofed room in the apartment, I had to leave Matilda in her playpen for the duration. She sobbed and howled the entire time. Clearly audible from the ground floor of the building (we're on the third floor), brick-red face, streaming eyes and nose, wails of utter despair. She's now nestled contentedly in my lap playing with her toes and mine, and I feel partly like the shittiest mom in history and partly woeful and resentful. How the hell is this going to work? How will anything ever get done?

I got thrown in the pool by a bunch of (really hot and cut) Marines in Rio de Janeiro and one of them gave me his Marine sweatpants to wear home. I totally had a little crush on him forever.

Shoooot... after that story I have a little crush on him forever.

Hey - NICOLE!!! I'm in DENVER!!!! Well, the airport and for another 30 minutes or so - but I'm Muppet waving in your direction and getting some mighty odd looks.

That reminds me. If I ever have disposable cash again, I really want Muppet DVD's. I need me some Gonzo and Animal.

Oh, ita -- The Boy wanted me to thank you for the shoe link yesterday.

Oh, and I did my push-ups on my toes instead of my knees!

Which sort of rocked.

They weren't very deep, and I dropped a knee on our holds between sets, but they were on my damn toes.