you gave me a...

I canít pinpoint when it was that I fell in love with pet names. tiger, tiger beat, tiger lily, ninja, ninja scroll, ninjabiscuit, babydoll, honey, sweetie, sugar, peaches, baby, babycakes, sweet thang, pumpkin, cupcakeÖI never used to traffic in these things, perhaps I am indelibly altered by a spell in which I was referred to as ëmuffin,í a moniker that I consistently hated and never understood. but nowÖnow? now Iím a pet name junkie. just ask the biscuit. I think it has something to do with the way a phrase or name will adhere itself to a person, or collective of peopleÖhow the right name will wrap itself around someone like a swath of wet silk; thatís how I came to have the biscuit. and the tribe. itís how I ended up as a part of the carass when I was younger. those names just felt right. and it felt that by calling these entities by a name of my own devising, it somehow made them mine (in a non-single white female kind of way; more a bonding thing). names have power (moonchild). so does giving them.

sometimes, though, I think that my love of pet names is purely reactionary. I started using them when I was at a particularly virulent ebb of hating my own name; shortly after I had an English teacher who attempted to convince me that I had been pronouncing my name incorrectly my whole life. shortly thereafter the people who were nearest and dearest became known to me as ëbunnyí and ëbabyí in lieu of their own names. whether I did so in an attempt to be given a new name myself or actually procure myself a slightly different identity (the top of every fifteen year oldís wish list) is still in question. Iím not saying that thereís an indelible correlation between the two, but I wouldnít be too surprised if thatís really where it started.

so, since then, Iíve been fond of pet names; they are a sign of highest affection from me. I have grown accustomed to my own, that bestowed upon me by my friends, even growing to love it because I am so acutely aware of the affection behind it. but, you know. my mind still wanders sometimes, wonders what I would choose if I could reasonably select my own pet name (which is, of course, not how it works at all) . some are mundane, others blatantly silly. as youíve seen before, Iíve always been fond of ëkittení for reasons I canít explain. Iím even really loving the ëshivvyí (it only took me twelve years). and I must admit that my spine melts just a little when someone calls me ëbaby.í Iím even starting to love my name in its natural state.

and this is progress.