A thousand violins are playing for me

It took me a long time to accept my first name. I've never been a huge fan, as it's a little too obscure (nothing weird, though, my parents were sane). In the past year or two, I've become OK with it, although there are still things I dislike.

First off, it sounds similar to other, more common names, and so when I introduce myself to someone in a loud area they often do a double-check, only with the wrong name. Sometimes I'll correct them, other times I don't bother. Hell, when am I going to see you again? That's right.

Second, and I know others of you out there with uncommon names can relate to this, did you ever want a personalized souvenir when you were little? Like, say, a toothbrush or a pen or one of those fake street signs? Toast got one of those when we were young. I won't reveal her name here, but let's just say the hospital probably had a betting pool on how many girls would be born on the floor with her name that year. A young child, I could not quite grasp why I couldn't have my own street sign as well. I have searched in vain in the years since, every time I venture into a souvenir shop I am drawn to the displays of license plates and keychains. Much like Bart in the clip below, I am often dumbfounded by some of the names on these things, while the thousands of people with my name are left to suffer.

Loved in Ireland

A drunk Irish gentleman at Ri Ra last night proclaimed his love for me, and Jess, always looking out for my best interests, yelled, "Love is intangible! You should buy her a shot!"
He did not. I must therefore doubt the fervor of his passion.

Sorry to disappoint!

Someone was directed to this post through a Google search for "jonathan horton slash"...I'm guessing it's not what they were hoping to find.

UPDATE: Someone else just searched for those same terms! If there are any aspiring fanfic writers out there, here's an opportunity to explore a neglected niche.

I need a patent lawyer!

Some coworkers and I like to break up the monotony of local restaurants with quarterly "fests" of food from other parts of the city. We've had PizzaFest, and tomorrow was supposed to be our first HoagieFest, catered by Philadelphia Cheesesteak Factory. I had high hopes for HoagieFest, with dreams of future generations marking the day with Cheez Whiz topped treats and leaving Amoroso rolls out for Hoagie Claus. Then I saw a billboard for this on 95 this past weekend. I never thought I'd say this, but damn those people at Wawa! Why'd they have to go and steal my thunder?!? And finding out the next day that they no longer have Oreo shakes did nothing to improve my mood, I'll have you know.
Whatever. Until they open a location inside the Beltway, I refuse to acknowledge their "trademarks."

Did someone say eggs?!?

Always on the lookout for potential opportunities for me, Jess passed along a Craigslist ad with the subject, "ARMENIAN COUPLE IS LOOKING FOR BEAUTIFUL ARMENIAN EGG DONOR." I could just see my dark hair and dark eyes convincing this couple that 50% Armenian was good enough, and then the kid ending up with all of my blond-haired blue-eyed father's genes.

No shoe love?

I signed the lease on my new apartment today, and I must say that my landlord disappointed me a bit. He works in women's shoes (just like Al Bundy!) and complimented me on my footwear on our first meeting. I think that's what sealed the deal, since they were a rather cute pair of shoes, and my competition was wearing flip-flops (amateur!). So today I made sure to wear another nice pair, but no compliments came my way.