Names and Saying Them

I have the horrible habit of, in my head, calling people by the name of what I think they look like instead of their actual name. For example, there could be a person named Butter, but I think they look more like a Jelly, so I’ll call them Jelly (not out loud, of course).

I’m making an effort to stop. I consciously use their actual names in my head were I to think of them. It’s in that brief moment when you first see someone when things spiral out of my control.

ARACHNID: “Hey, Butter… elly!!”

BUTTER/JELLY glares with the fire of a thousand flaming suns at ARACHNID. ARACHNID spontaneously combusts.

It’s a nightmare when you call one of your closest friends by something other than their name (that is also not an applicable nickname).

Except for a few mortifying instances, this issue thankfully doesn’t occur often because I tend to never use people’s names when I’m talking to them.

PEOPLE: Hey, Arachnid!

ARACHNID: Hi. (Note the lack of “People”)

I never really thought about not-saying-people’s-names until a few weeks ago. I can’t remember what prompted me to think about it. Possibly someone said my name and I thought, Huh. I never say that person’s name. Or maybe I was trying to get someone’s attention and my usual methods were insufficient and I had to scream their name, and it felt awkward in my mouth. When I usually try to grab someone’s attention, I put my sock on my hand, along with googly eyes that are always conveniently located in my pocket, and throw a spectacular puppet show. Sorry, just trying to get your attention, dear reader. Making sure you’re not yet bored out of your mind and simply skimming these words for any sort of emotion to break the predictable mundaneness of daily zombie living. When I usually try to grab someone’s attention, I tap their shoulders. If that fails, I’ll wave my hand obnoxiously in their face or simply give up and flop over like a deflated version of those dancing balloon people thingies outside of car washes.

On the rare occasion that I use someone’s name, I more-often-than-not stumble over it like a bunny leaping over a boulder the size of Mount Everest (I’ve lost track of that simile. OH WELL). It’s not how it looks. I know your name, I really do! Just… AHHHHH. I can pronounce words.

I think the name I stumble the most on is my own. You never really say your own name often, and with such little practice with it, I’m terrible at saying it. I can barely eke out the traditional pronunciation, and even then, I have to repeat it back to you; I can’t come up with it off the top of my head. But, as my name is my own, I get to decide how to say it, right?

Is it A-rack-nid, like a horrible hacking cough, or is it A-rah-ch-nid like that itchy rash?

The main reason I decided to go with a pseudonym (Yes, I’ll admit, it’s a pseudonym. My parents did not actually name me Arachnid Weaver. But I will deny it if you ever ask) is because the name on my birth certificate is a pain to pronounce. It’s not the worst out there, but whenever anyone asks me how to say it, I usually have to repeat it multiple times, and even then, it’s a fifty-fifty shot.

But sometimes even I don’t pronounce it right (according to the pronunciation I prefer. If we go the traditional route, I never say it right).

I was always trying to escape my name. When I was four, I asked my mom why they didn’t name me Golden Girl (I’m glad they didn’t. And, yes, four-year-old-me wanted a superhero name. She didn’t yet realize that they had secret identities. She thought Spider-Man’s parents named him “Spider-Man” as a powerless infant). When I was in kindergarten, I’d occasionally put a name other than mine on my papers (probably a pain for the teacher to sort, but at least I was consistent). When I was ten, I wanted to legally change my name for my birthday (I didn’t).

Hugs!

For a Mini-Wheats cereal box like me, hugging is pretty hard, and I mean that literally. People are like, “Why are you so hard? I thought tall people were like pillows!”

“That is for reasons unknown,” I say. Then they storm away. (HOH HOH IT RHYMES)

So today, I have made a blog post dedicated to hugs! To start, there are three types of hugs:

1.Side Hugs- These hugs are for the side, obviously.

2. Bear Hugs- These hugs are not for bears specifically but can be used for them. It is most commonly used for germaphobes and Arachnid.

3. Fancy Hugs- These hugs are fancy, for fancy people. They are quite advanced.

I’ll first go over the side hugs! Side hugs are used for movie nights, looking at the sunset, and to trigger awkward situations. These hugs are best for pictures, sitting, and choking your victim to death in a subtle way. Make sure to smell their collarbones to ensure they feel like they have the attention they need. Plus, that may add more ideas for compliments!

Now, for bear hugs. Bear hugs, as I stated before, are for people who enjoy glaring at you and around them, the general public. Like a bear, hunt your buddies down and stalk them. Then go in for the hug! Claw their back or neck for a cool bear-like essence! Be wild! ARRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Finally, last but not least Fancy Hugs! These involve odd weird handshakes, fist bombs , and the occasional kiss on the cheek. They can really be expiremental. For example, if you are a cool skate board guy, you can go with the fist bomb collision, a Captain Hook, and the bumping of the chests. Or if you are foreign FBI agent who wants to create a connection with your pawns, you can start with bear hug combo with a double kiss to leave them disoriented, ready to poison! These hugs are really personalizable and can be used for any situation. So don’t be afraid to try new things! Here are a few things I’ve tried:

Give POI (person of interest) a Back Bear hug, then climb on their back, demanding a piggy back ride even though you are a bear.

A side hug, where your hand is on POI’s shoulder, but the other is secretly braiding their hair. (This is only for boys, sorry iron-men)

Bear hug both of POI’s feet, and leave them with you for the whole social gathering, in one place, enjoying your company. Do not let go, and for an option, lick their shins. Make sure when POI releases yellow nervous liquids pull down their pants and keep it as a memory. Smell it everyday!

(Try the last one. It is truly a life changing experience! I was put in a cage for a two year sentence! Was about to, anyway. Arachnid bailed me out…)