PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

my name is my name is

Tuesday, Jun. 07, 2005
Dear Tod,

Today www.kristyk.org wrote an entry about her name….Kristy.  I won’t divulge the info about it here because if you aren’t reading her blog then you’re just wasting your time online.

 

When I was a kid, I was the middle child.  I had an older sister, Tracy and a younger brother, Eric.  I say “had” a lot in reference to my family because I used to “have” siblings.  I don’t really talk to them at all anymore.  If I speak to my sister once a year its something I think about for weeks thereafter.  I never thought it would be this way, but it is and I’ve learned to deal with it as best as any human being ever could.

 

Back to “my” name. 

 

When I was a kid, my Mom called me Cricket.  I think it was her cutesy take on “Kristy”.  I wish I could just casually call her right now and ask her but I can’t.  I can remember eating a blue Popsicle riding in a shopping cart while my older sister was in the backseat of the shopping cart at the local Acme’s and my Mother sing-songing “Cricketity Crack…chirp chirp…you never stop chirp chirping Cricket Crack’a’lack”.  I can still hear her singing now…

 

I don’t recall her ever referring to me as Cricket on a daily basis…just that sing songing and blips of memories of places and things that partially make sense and partially are blurred good feeling memories.  The sun shining, grass stained goucho’s with little sailboats on them.  I remember Penn Traffic on Sunday, peeing in the middle of the store and my Mom picking me up and placing me against her hip, her scratchy and newly pee stained checkered pants next to my summer scabby legs.  I remember crying because I had found myself alone that day in Penn Traffic and I had to potty and Mommy was not there and then there she was holding me despite my wetness and I remember my sister laughing and my Mom singing Cricketity Crack…chirp chirp…you never stop chirp chirping Cricket Crack’a’lack”

 

I have too few happy memories about my mother, my family, my childhood.  I remember the incessant arguing about which one among us had the most in our metal cups.  I remember those metal cups and would pay a lot to buy some of those for myself now. 

 

I always liked my name.  Kristy.  Often other kids would wish to be Tiffany, Michelle, Amber, Stephanie, but I liked being the only Kristy.  Yah sure there was that one girl named Christy but she didn’t count because she was CHristy not Kristy.  My name never appears on anything personalized spelled correctly.  It’s always a halfbreed of my truth.

 

Years after hearing “Crickity Crack…chirp chirp…you never stop chirp chirping Cricket Crack’a’lack” my grandfather started to call me Cricket again.  He would write me cards and little notes that stated “Kricket” or “Krickety”  Yes that little diddy morphed itself but it was my grandfather who held tight to the nick.

 

My older sister had a million nicknames for my little brother, including Slice, Slosh, Slip, and most every other SL word in the dictionary.  She herself had a nickname that stuck throughout our teenage years.  PITA.  As in pain in the ass.  She definitely was the prissy one.  While she was learning how to slather on Clearisil and curl her non-existant eyelashes, I was copying down lyrics and reading Judy Blume in the corners of our unhappy home. 

 

I often wondered what my life would have been like if I were “born into” a normal family or given up for adoption.  I used to watch those adoption shows and want to be one of those outwardly sad kids getting hyped for the “good” Mommys to come save.

 

But throughout my childhood, there was one thing about myself that I loved.  My name.  I would write it on everything, my shoes, my clothes, my notebooks back and forth on the notebooks.  Big curly q K’s.  I loved the letter K.  I think this early won fetish led me to name my son with a name that started with a K as well.  Odd, but I never really grasped that reasoning until just now.  But I believe it had much to do with it.  My K was going to now be his K.  I love so much how my initials are the same as his that I did not re-take my maiden name when I got divorced.  I liked that he and I matched like we do. 

 

My maiden name initials are KC.  My ex-husband never called me Kristy.  Never.  I think this was some unspoken thing that bothered me but I lied to myself that it didn’t.  He called me Kasey.  Kasey because of my initials and when we first met he saw me writing my initials on work-related paperwork and stated, “K.C.? What does that mean?”  When I told him he said, “I will call you that and so when you answer the phone and hear me say KC you will know its me.”  He never wrote Kristy on a card or any momento ever.  It was Kasey that he wrote.  To this day it was as if he made up this person and the Kristy person was pushed aside.

 

One of the biggest things that fills my heart with warmth is when I would call my grandfather and he would say, “Hello?” and I would say “Hi Pap!…how are you?” And he would yell through the phone in jubilee “KRICKET!!!”  It feels good to be someone’s little girl….even after being all grown up.”

 

My name….I’ve always loved it.  Loved when someone would say it to me in conversation, whispered in my ear…etc.”

 

Rick calls me Kristy a lot.  He also calls me honey.  But I hear him say “Kristy” a lot.  And I remember the way he said my name the first time he ever said it.  It felt awesome.  He tells me he’s never dated another Kristy.  Oddly enough his twin brother is dating a girl that calls herself Chrissy and sometimes Christy but technically that’s not her given name….sometimes I get bitchy and want to tell her “that’s MY name….not YOUR’S” like the baby I sometimes want to be but always resist.  She’s not a real Kristy no how no way.  You can’t give yourself a nickname…paaalease.  Next she’ll revert to a sign like Prince did….

 

I have other nicknames…..my screen nick “Kwisty” came from my father calling me “Kwisty”.  One of my best friends in highschool called me Kris for years….there was never a asking if it was ok and for her and only for her it was ok.  Her name was Tina and I called her TEEN.  She never objected.  Kris and Teen had a lot of fun years…being pals.

 

Of course my son calls me Mom and I sometimes miss those “Mommy” days.  My Dad in later years called me “Sweetie” and that was priceless when it came out of his mouth…but I’ll never forget that when he apologized he said, “I’m sorry Kristy”  He said my name and that might very well be the reason I accepted it.  Who can really say?  I just know that it was far more personal and special because he said my name…my name that has always been something I really liked about myself.

 

One thing I’ve always loved about my name is that so many people ask me if it’s short for something else.  And it’s not.  My birth certificate reads “Kristy Lynn C………”  One thing that is odd is that after Rick and I get married I will again be Kristy Lynn C….”  Rick has the same exact first and middle name as my deceased father.  Also odd, how names connect our lives from one place to another.

 

I found kristyk.org through doing a google search for my name.  My name has given me a lot of things to smile about.  It’s something I am proud to say when people ask me what my name is.

 

Every now and then I hear that song Cricketity Crack…chirp chirp…you never stop chirp chirping Cricket Crack’a’lack” and I get melancholy and miss being a kid with not a care in the world.  During those moments I let myself remember checkered pants and pee stained sailboats and singsonging.  I let myself remember and feel my memories as wholly as I still can.  Makes me want to call my grandfather just to hear that excited KRICKET!!! On the other line.

 

I like my name….at least my first name.  I even like my middle name…Lynn….albeit a little boring….  I asked my Mother where my name came from and she said it went well with Tracy….which is my older sisters name.  Somehow even that information regarding my “always better than me in my mother’s eyes” sister and how my name was meant to match her’s did not dispel my personal love and joy over my name.

 

The other day I saw the name “Kristy Knight”and I thought to myself…now that’s one cool damn name….I bet she’s a cool chick!

 

Just to even the score my Mother is also the woman that told me that Hasbro was going to make a doll and name it after me.  The “Kry Kristy Kry” doll because she told me I was a cry baby.  Sometimes I really want to believe I was probably being a PITA but mostly I think it was hurtful because all I remember is crying and wanting her to hold me….yet she went off on a tangent about some stupid crying doll.  Either way, I think the Cry Kristy Cry doll with real crying tears probably woulda been a big hit.  After all she woulda had a cool damn name. 

 

I do know that Precious Moments has a Kristy doll…but damn if she doesn’t have blonde hair.  What’s precious about that?

 

What's really odd is that the first time I wrote to the Kristy behind kristyk.org it felt odd to type "Kristy, hi...."  It was like writing to msyelf.  And well....that feels weird at first but I'm glad I got over it.

 

Does anyone else remember goucho’s?




kLetter RS version 2Ty




KR version 1iSTY




scrabble krneon sign IS..."T"Y



No...it never gets boring to me....

Kletter rBlue Idsc05245NatureY



But when it does I revert to doing my other favorite names....

R, Seatleone letter iThe C on the CliffPeeling K




DSC00055ENeon I, SeattleTBurning H Poster



and…

Radio City LHollywood BOWLE



and time to stop when I’m doing this…

UOP



Wait I forgot something

pA is for teamuL
Dubyapleasure eSTErB-rickiron e up closerG

10:33 p.m. ::
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