You see, I've noticed that nicknames are positive and cute about 10% of the time, and the rest of the time they develop out of a particularly embarrassing or strange characteristic of a person. At least, that's the case with me.
Let's start at the very beginning... My mom started calling me "Lindsay Lou Who" after reading The Grinch who Stole Christmas to me and taking a certain liking to "Cindy Lou Who." Thus began the "Lou" phase of my life, the longest enduring nickname to date. This is easily translated to "Lou Lou," which I hear almost every time I call my mom. She picks up the phone and sing-song's those words to me almost daily. I like it.
Then I entered the dark days. I guess a little background is needed... I'm a little strange. I know this, and I've accepted it, and most days I try to use it to my advantage. But I do erratic things sometimes and maybe sometimes I do them at a really fast pace. Some might call it spastic.
Well, some did call it spastic. For about 3 years in High School, I was commonly known as "Spazzy," or more simply, "Spaz." The z's are important. I'm vaguely remembering the nickname forming out of my habit of running into walls... Because that probably looked weird to passersby. Don't worry, I wasn't mentally deranged, I just lack peripheral vision. Maybe they are one in the same. Looking back, I probably should have been offended by this, but at the time it was just my name. I responded to this call and everything, like a trained dog. Awesome.
Then I somehow became "Mama Linds." What a turnaround. From "Spaz" to "Mama Linds" in about a year. I grew up fast. The "Mama" part I believe came from my habit of wanting to take care of everyone. And my tendency to cook a lot. And babysit. And wear Mom clothes sometimes because I lack common style sense.
I should stop.
So there you have it. My varied and mainly demeaning nicknames. Thanks a lot, buds.
Just kidding. Nicknames are a sign of endearment, right?
...Right?
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