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.

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

Does this mean that Trudy will be able to kill people with her little toe soon in addition to ita being able to kill people with her pinky? Awesome.

Related to killing: A professor has just asked one of those questions that would require me to prove a negative for every civil law country in the world. Kill. Me. Now.

Teppy, I'm glad he liked them. He was totally the first person I thought of when I got over the "Oooh! I totally can't wear those." reaction.

Does this mean that Trudy will be able to kill people with her little toe soon in addition to ita being able to kill people with her pinky? Awesome.

I am far far far from ita's killing ability.

But I do enjoy kicking.

A lot.

Its like, one day, all my testosterone showed up...

(Actually, I think Cass goosed it with the race cars)

She was Winters and he was Neufeld, so now they're Winterfeld.

I don't even know these people, and yet I will never forgive them for missing out on the opportunity to be the Neuters.

Ex-Mr. Jen and I thought briefly about combining our names, but nothing really appealed: Koseich? Teiski? Keich? (The latter of which, given the way his last name was pronounced, would have sounded like an anti-Semitic slur.) Um, no thanks.

So I just took his name, because like JZ no one has EVER been able to spell or pronounce my strange, multisyllabic pseudo-Polish last name, and I thought it would be easier to take a shorter, unisyllabic pseudo-German name. I learned quickly that fewer syllables != ease of pronounciation, and I spent just as much time spelling out a shorter name. Plus I kept thinking everyone was talking about my mother-in-law when they referred to me as Mrs. HisLastName. So I gave up and took back my maiden name long before we divorced.

Now I'm just holding out for a guy named Smith.

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.

Well, sort of. For me, the sound isn't so much the issue as the fact that it's a diminutive that is appropriate for a child. My bro was Kenny as a child, now he's Ken. No one would ever think to call him Kenny unless he introduced himself as such.

What's in a name? I didn't change mine for my first marriage, due to politics and professional requirements. I don't think I'd change mine for my next marriage (provided that happens), either. I don't much like my father (where my last name comes from), but I've spent 32 years with this name. It's kinda mine.

(Or, you know, What Tep Said.)

And I went to my full first name my senior year of high school - before that, I was "Juli". Which just looks fucking odd to me now, and the only people who get to call me that are family. No one but no one gets to call me "Jules".

In other news, so much ~ma to your mom, Hil.

I learned quickly that fewer syllables != ease of pronounciation, and I spent just as much time spelling out a shorter name.

Yeah, my last name is 5 letters, it does have a Z, which means spelling out my last name takes longer beause I have to throw in "z as in zebra" and still seeing v in stead of a z. Just like there's no "pebra" (I think Hil complained about this recently) there's no vebra.

If Americans just said Zed instead of zee my life would be easier.

I've been Frankie a few times in my life and always hated it. The only way I could put up with it was by hearing it as "Frank E" (E being my middle initial).

When I was little, my next oldest sister used to just call me "The Kid", and a couple of the older ones called me "Pumpkin" on account of the orange-red hair I had.

The only nicknames among friends that stuck were "Funky" in grade school and "Satan" in college (long story). Oh, and one friend of mine used to annoy the ever-loving fuck out of me (on purpose) by pronouncing my name as two syllables in a sing-songy way - as in Frah-ank.