In order to make forthcoming blogs make a little more sense, I thought it important to explain the history of the ridiculous nicknames that boys and men in my life have acquired.
Ever since high school, it’s been important to have nicknames for the guys in our lives. At first, it was so that we could talk about our top-secret crushes in front of them, giggling and smiling, like they had no idea we were talking about our undying love for them. Freshman year, they were all named after cars. Sophomore year, they were named after candy bars. I remember secretly loving a boy we had nicknamed “Snickers,” for no other reason than a Snickers bar was delicious. Junior year, we had a bazillion created nicknames for boys, and my future high school sweetheart was TS (Tango Stud as we had been tangoing in Spanish Class).
As the years progressed, though, nicknames became more of an endearing way of referring to our men. In college, Penny was dating the Moose (God only knows why), Sheila was dating the Viking (for his blonde hair and giant Norseman-ish size), Claire was dating the Lumberjack (for his plaid shirts and big burly man facial hair), and I was dating The Ethiopian (who was just really really skinny, and referred to in this blog otherwise as Rockabilly for his Johnny Cash-loving, PBR-drinking, vintage car-driving…you get the picture).
After college, though, the nicknaming became a way for my friends to remember some of my boyfriends/guys I was dating. Of course, for me it had a lot to do with not wanting to get too personal. If a guy met a couple of my friends, he wasn’t just a fling. If he met a lot of my friends, he was a little important. If my friends called him by name, he was insta-important. The nicknaming system was a great way to keep track of who we were talking about.
Everyone has that one friend who is constantly moving on from guy to guy. Maybe not even stopping to call one a boyfriend, maybe trying it on like an okay-looking dress that you’re not really going to buy. You know, “Wait, which one was he?” syndrome.
I was the master of that game. I played it very very very well. I really loved dating. And then I really hated dating. I went through some very distinct phases. The really crazy phases (where the nicknames became incredibly important) were always post boyfriend. I really don’t think I could handle another one of those, so lets hope Brian intends to keep me. 🙂
I’m terrible about remembering the names, but I’d forgotten about the Ethiopian. That made me crack up. In my office. Luckily everyone here is used to me talking to myself.