Rustic Decor

‘X’ Marks the Everything

It’s coming up on 2 years since I changed my name, ie. 2 years since I had to start spelling, repeating, spelling again, and explaining how to pronounce my last name.

    Me: “It’s pronounced ‘shoe’, but spelled X-U.”

    Unsuspecting victim: “Ok, S-H-X-U?”

    I repeat: “No, X-U.”

    Confused, unsuspecting victim: “Oh ok, S-X-U?”

    I insist: “No, X-U.”

    Mindblown, unsuspecting victim: “Ok, (pause) X-U-what?”

THAT conversation occurs at least once weekly.

THAT is not an exaggeration.

My husband warned me that it would be this way. Somewhere along the way he stopped correcting people, probably after the thousandth, “Can I speak to Mr. ‘Kay Zoo?’”

I, however, am still in the ‘correcting’ phase.

But there are some positives in all of this wacky name stuff:

-Our prescriptions are usually the only residents of the ‘XYZ’ bin at the pharmacy.

-Telemarketers ACTUALLY buy it when we pretend not to understand English.

-It’s wonderfully easy to find decorative letters.

Luckily for me, the X isn’t a highly desired letter. In fact, I can pretty much bank on the fact that the X AND the U will end up on sale.

While I’m not entirely on board with the trend of personalizing EVERYTHING, I have embraced what I like to call ‘The Xification’ of our home. (Furthermore, I can display our ENTIRE last name without being entirely obnoxious.)

I cannot take credit for all of the progress made in this Xification venture, for my wonderful Aunt Net has surprised me randomly with aids in this quest (she’s sweet).

Bookends, stocking holders, Halloween pumpkins… all have been subject to personalization ‘round these parts.

However unlike some, I don’t feel that the possibilities should be endless.

For instance, I’m not too keen on plastering a child’s name all over his/her clothing- that trend strikes me as odd. Maybe there are positives to the practice of which I have not yet considered, but at this point I cannot help but wonder why anyone would equip a child with clothing that screams, “Call me by name, offer me a lollipop… and shove me into a van.”- I mean, if someone knows your name, then they don’t call you ‘little girl’- and we all grew up knowing that ‘hey little girl’ was the creepiest phrase EVER. ‘Hey little girl’ is what strangers say, so based on the best concrete-operational-logic that a 4 year old can muster, anyone who knows your name is not a stranger.   Perhaps my cynicism will dissipate once I do have children, and maybe one day I’ll eat these words and get the ‘monogram itch’, but for now I feel that it goes too far (rant over).

I digress.

Decoratively, here at the house, I don’t feel that I’ve gone too far… yet.

Because if you are here, you ought to know my name.