Post your random thought here!
- Thread starter Walker
- Start date
So Jessica was Latina but had an Anglo last name from someone she wasn’t related to.
That’s why she was happy to take my name when we married, despite believing it was weird that women were just expected to give up their name. She felt it better represented her, being Spanish, and came from someone she loved rather than someone she never met.
As an aside, there was a bunch of drama surrounding that, because she was originally from Alabama and had a bunch of family active in the Klan (which was a lot more powerful and influential in the 80s, when she was born, than they are today). Her mom was disowned when the truth came out, and that’s why they lived here.
I was Anglo, but had a Spanish name from someone I wasn’t “related” to but knew and loved.
I’m just thinking about how our lives paralleled each other, with only slight differences. I think this is a huge part of why we got along so well and related to each other so much, even when she was “just” my friend.
That’s why she was happy to take my name when we married, despite believing it was weird that women were just expected to give up their name. She felt it better represented her, being Spanish, and came from someone she loved rather than someone she never met.
As an aside, there was a bunch of drama surrounding that, because she was originally from Alabama and had a bunch of family active in the Klan (which was a lot more powerful and influential in the 80s, when she was born, than they are today). Her mom was disowned when the truth came out, and that’s why they lived here.
I was Anglo, but had a Spanish name from someone I wasn’t “related” to but knew and loved.
I’m just thinking about how our lives paralleled each other, with only slight differences. I think this is a huge part of why we got along so well and related to each other so much, even when she was “just” my friend.
As another aside:
I finally read her journal after she died.
Soon after we got together, she practiced her signature with my last name in there.
Oh. My. God. Do you understand what that feels like?
The person you wished you were when you were 13, how you fantasized about someone thinking of you. And then seeing proof that, to your very favorite person, that’s exactly who you were?
It’s amazing.
I finally read her journal after she died.
Soon after we got together, she practiced her signature with my last name in there.
Oh. My. God. Do you understand what that feels like?
The person you wished you were when you were 13, how you fantasized about someone thinking of you. And then seeing proof that, to your very favorite person, that’s exactly who you were?
It’s amazing.
Another aside: one of the most satisfying moments of my life was when I was arguing with a lady from Birmingham (Alabama not England) about whether or not something she wanted was racist.
She claimed it was part of the culture and said the magic words “you just don’t know women from the South.”
I told her that my wife was from Tuscaloosa, as were (duh) my MIL and SIL who I also lived with and had known for over a decade.
That ended that line of discussion.
She claimed it was part of the culture and said the magic words “you just don’t know women from the South.”
I told her that my wife was from Tuscaloosa, as were (duh) my MIL and SIL who I also lived with and had known for over a decade.
That ended that line of discussion.
I like adding a gratuitous “never to be seen again” to whatever I’m saying.
”Hey, where’s mom?”
“She went to dinner with Aunt M, never to be seen again.”
or
“You’re late, did you stop somewhere?”
”I went to Target, never to be seen again.”
”What are you talking about? You’re right in front of me!”
”Am I?” *turns into a cloud of bats and flies away*
”Hey, where’s mom?”
“She went to dinner with Aunt M, never to be seen again.”
or
“You’re late, did you stop somewhere?”
”I went to Target, never to be seen again.”
”What are you talking about? You’re right in front of me!”
”Am I?” *turns into a cloud of bats and flies away*
