The Evolution of a Name

I love my name. I think it's beautiful. Randy-Lynne. I spent many years perfecting my signature until I found the way I like it best. I even like the look of my initials R-L. I like to sign them all loopy together.

Lately I've been thinking of my name, and how the way I use it has changed over the years--especially in the way I introduce myself. I grew up as Randy Cottrell. In high school I started writing out the Randy-Lynne, because, as I said, I love the way it looks written out. But I still introduced myself as just plain Randy (which has its complications, as I discovered when I introduced myself to a new guy when I worked in the dishroom at the Cougareat. He was Scottish, so he gave me a funny look and asked if that was an invitation).

Then when I got married, I became Randy-Lynne Wach and have spent many years now introducing myself as such. I've noticed, however, that since moving back to Kentucky, I've gone back to introducing myself to people as just plain Randy again. I'm wondering why. There's not too many people still here that knew me way back when, and that shouldn't make a difference. Am I just turning lazy? Am I regressing back to my teenage state by being in the place I lived as a teenager? Is it just my Kentucky name? I don't know. It just seems a strange change. And because I don't really understand my motivations, I'm not sure if I want to do anything to change it.

Party for Katherine and Tony (aka 4th of July)

Just the usual insanity at a party at Grandma's, plus a few extra Californians. Katherine's cake was fabulous! (of course, I made it) a slightly mango flavored yellow cake with lemonade frosting. Not all of the kids were up for it, but I thought it was great. So much fun to hang out with family.

Unfortunately, I forgot my camera the day before when my very good looking nephew, Dee, and his girlfriend were there. My favorite part of that visit is that, once the girls learned he was a cousin, he automatically became "one of the kids", despite the fact that he's, what? 27? This family I've gotten myself into is just a little bit intimidating sometimes. :o)

Things I'll Miss

Last month my house sold (finally!!!), which leaves us in a tiny apartment recovering from the disaster of homeownership. Overall I'm very happy to be returning to the simplicity of apartment life. For example, when the water decided not to stop running when I turned off the faucet in the shower yesterday, and all it took was a phone call and about an hour before it was fixed--the handles all replaced with shiny new ones. I loved not having to think up how to find a few extra hundred dollars for a plumber. Or a few weeks ago when I complained that the refrigerator was acting kind of fritzy (though still keeping things cool enough most of the time), and the next day a new refrigerator appeared--with a bonus 3 cubic feet more than the previous one, so I can now store enough food to feed my family. I also particularly enjoy not having to remember which day is trash day, and being able to take out the trash whenever I want.

Despite my appreciation of apartment life, I will still miss my old house. Not the squirrels or the bats or the sagging floors. I do miss my ginormous kitchen. And I particularly miss being able to paint wacky murals wherever I wanted. Since it's been over a month since my house sold, I'm sure they've been painted over or ripped out by now. So I will memorialize them online. My big red house, my giant "aquarium" (Nemo blankets over the windows because I found it disturbing to see straight through the house and the windows were drafty. It glowed in the evening--we became known as the "Nemo house" in town), the circus in my kitchen, and the maypole dance hallway (complete with glow-in-the-dark stripes).

My Rainbow Dancing Girl

This is my Rainbow Dancing Girl. My Mother's Day present from Terry that we finally go to go buy yesterday, now that things from the move are settling down and she was less likely to get bashed up in the move. This girl kept me mostly sane in the past several months.

She's been locked up behind a glass case at Costco for months now. When I would go out shopping since this past March, my mask would slip and I'd kind of fall apart. I have no idea what people thought of the crazy lady walking through the aisles, or occasionally just sitting on the ground next to the cart, with tears pouring down her face. But I would always eventually go to the Rainbow Dancing Girl, and she would cheer me up--like a dose of instant sunshine. (I think the piece is actually called Over the Rainbow, but I always think of her as the Rainbow Dancing Girl). So when I told Terry that looking at her made me happy, he decided to let me have her.

I love this beautiful lady. I think it's because she's the me that I always pictured. Me--though much skinnier and better coordinated, for sure. But free, happy, just enjoying being in the moment. Someone who could do just about anything, and would do it, with her own unique style and energy. Someone who radiated color, beauty, and joy. This is the me that I would like to be.

I'm probably a complete moron for buying a huge fine porcelain sculpture like this when my girlies are still so young. But for my daily dose of sunshine, I will take the risk.