Confession: Nicknames

I have a bad habit that I want to confess to. I give people nicknames. And I take my time choosing them, because they have to fit just right.

Here’s another thing:  When I choose them, they stick. Like, if I meet you once and give you a nickname because of something I notice about you, and then we later become friends, I will secretly (and by secretly I mean to myself and my husband… and a select few friends who understand my bad habit) always refer to you by your nickname, not by your real name.

And I want to take a minute and say to all of you: I’m sorry.

I’m sorry, Bubba, that you were the fifth Megan on my soccer team in 5^th grade and you needed a nickname for Coach’s yelling purposes that had nothing to do/sounded nothing like “Megan.”

I apologize, Jiggy, that you happened to start/be really excited about Irish dance the year I met you. I’m also sorry that I called you Jiggy in front of your fiancé last year when I randomly saw you at a fall festival after not having seen you since 7^th grade.

Forgive me, Mannequin (aka Manny/Quinn, depending on who was around and was in on the joke), for noticing one day in high school that the DAY after American Eagle put up a new mannequin at the mall, you were always wearing the exact outfit that the mannequin was, even though you were nowhere near the standard mannequin size of 2 and some of those low-rise jeans looked like they were being eaten by your tushie. Really I was probably jealous that my mom wouldn’t buy all of my clothes from the trendy stores, but that’s for another post. Another marathon post.  (Oh and another thing: I’m sorry I nicknamed your boyfriend Dancing Queen. But let’s be fair… you chose to date a boy who lettered in Dance Team.) (I shouldn’t say things like that since I lettered in Academics and Choir… *cough* GEEK.)

Mea culpa, Mail Order Bride, that you met/cybered (ok -- we were all in middle school once, we ALL know what that means) your now-husband ON FACEBOOK while he was Facebook-officially “In a Relationship” with someone else. I’m sorry, but that’s trashy.

Point of Order, Jack (name that movie, y’all): I’m not really sorry RE: Mail Order Bride.

And finally, I beseech you, Joseph, Kia, and FTP, to forgive those of us who came up with your nicknames because of the fact that our small colony of cubes makes it impossible for us to ignore your idiosyncrasies.

So there. I said it. Still love me?