The naming of blogs is a difficult matter

When I first decided to begin taking up space on the web, I was presented with the problem of a name. It had to be charming, of course, and meaningful. And far from ordinary. At first I selected "Just Another Dirty Girl," which is why my URL begins with j-a-d-g. I figured this would be pretty obscure, and I like being inscrutable. I'm a big Buffy the Vampire fan. (Of course I am -- I'm a fan of all things teen-angsty, and if you throw in some supernatural stuff, too, well, that's just perfection. And Joss Whedon is a genius.) In season 7, a villian named Caleb was introduced, and a nasty piece of work he was, too. In a particulary memorable episode, for me, Caleb calls Buffy "just another dirty girl." For some reason this stuck with me and I always held on to it in a little corner of my brain. Although I liked the darkness and f-u quality of the title, I didn't want to purpetuate that whole paternalistic, the Church-suppressing-women, misogynistic, women-are-dirty vibe. I'm trying to cut back. Bad for the skin. Plus, I didn't think it was quite evocative enough of "me." Too much dirt, not enough sugar. So then I picked "Fiddle-Dee-Dee," in honor of Scarlett O'Hara, a long-time heroine of mine. She's a southern belle gone wrong, and I can relate. She's supposed to be biddable and kind and gracious and demure, but instead she's strong and motivated and smart and independent and petty and opportunistic. If I went along with my upbringing and the expectations of my family, I'd be a little Melanie Wilkes-type. But I'm not. Hallefrickenluia. I'm not sure why I discarded Fiddle-Dee-Dee. Looking back, it was probably a pretty good name. Moving right along, we have the most current and longest lasting of my names, "Strange, Dark Gypsy Girl." About a year ago I read Gloria by Keith Maillard. Oh, what a book. It's about a girl from a wealthy family in the 1950s, struggling with who she is and who she's expected to be. It's about feeling like an imposter, and trying not to. The book is poetic and gorgeous and stylish and detailed and huge. So much of it resonated with me, especially:

"... but you'll never fit in, not in your heart, because you're irrevocably different from those girls. You're a strange, dark Gypsy girl. No one knows you, and no one ever will."

Most of the time embracing this quote doesn't make me feel like an outcast, as perhaps it should. I try to feel like it's a badge of honor that I don't fit a mold, that I break borders and stick out. And I try to covet the part of myself that no one will ever know, not even those who get closest. Because that gives me a core, a pocket of strength. Or maybe a cave. I'm not sure yet.