I don't plan on posting very much these next couple of weeks. I have a very good reason why, but I can't tell you just yet. So I leave you with a little embarrassing anecdote from my childhood and hope that you forgive me. I expect all of my readers to be mature enough to never bring this up again. Here goes:
My name used to be Barbie. The blonde doll with ridiculous measurements that screwed women over for decades. Thanks, Mattel!
I'm not sure if I made this memory up myself or if it is a legitimate memory from my four year old past, but it is vivid. My mother asked me what English name I would like to have since we were moving to California, and I told her I wanted to be called Barbie.
My mother, the wise woman that she is, obliged and listened to a toddler's request. And that is how I was known as Barbie until the ripe age of nine.
If I made it all the way to the fourth grade with a bimbo name, what changed? It was a little song called "Barbie Girl" by Aqua. That song played every hour on KIIS FM and it was my version of a living hell.
Fourth graders are not kind. I went home crying for a week before I told my mother why I was so upset. And that is why my sister has a very American name and I have a very Chinese one. Would you have taken me seriously if you knew my name was Barbie?