Tuesday, October 9, 2012


So last week I had to have two mammograms. Geesh...if the radiologist really wanted to see that much of my boobs he should just read my blog!

While I was waiting for the second one, two others ladies were in there chatting with me to kill the time till we were called.

The tech came out and called me. "Ummm......ahhh" she stuttered staring at my name on her sheet.

Sometimes I feel mean and make them take a stab at pronouncing my name, other times I just answer to that vocal hesitation that usually precedes my name being called.

Feeling generous I turned to her and filled in my name "Its pronounced P."

(PA-JUH, it rhymes with rajah and sounds so unusual when spoken softly)

Behind me the other two ladies appeared from there cubicals.

"what did you say your name was?" one demanded eyeing me like I was a filthy liar.

"P" I said enjoying the look of confusion on her face. The other lady was looking at me like she had seen a ghost or just realized she was in the presence of some divine mythological creature.

I have yet to place that look. Its one that perks my interest because I have seen it so many times.

Most people expect me to look like this when they see my name:

 (When I wore this and went to my work, no one recognized me it was soooo funny!!)

Or at the very least:

(Exiled Russian princess anyone?)

But if they have heard my name over the phone or someone has spoken it they expect me to look like this:

Most are disappointed to find that I look like this and do not match my name at all.

(dawww love to snuggle with Core)

When my mother was 8 months pregnant with me, she had a dream, and I came to her and told her I wanted to be named P. So when I was born she did so. Had I been a boy I would have been Raja. My name has been an interesting thing to live with over the years. Sometimes a burden and other times  liberating.

In grade school when role would be called it went like this.






Me: Here!

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