OOOOOOOOOKAY EVERYONE WHO IS READY FOR SOME THURSDAY AFTERNOON SASS. 

 Every time I go to an establishment where you are required to give your name to some poor employee who is definitely not paid enough to try and figure out how to spell your name I give the name Neal instead of Nealie. Why? Because my name is quite the conversation starter, no one can spell it, and often times people can’t pronounce it either. (In case you found me randomly and haven’t seen a video yet it’s literally just Neal+the hard E sound.) “How do you spell that.” “What a cool name.” “How did your parents come up with that.” Typically I just respond, “I’m named after the greatest man I’ll ever know, Neal.” or “I’m named after my pops, Neal.” It really just depends on my mood/sense of name pride for the day. (I was unintentionally gifted the job of carrying on a great legacy at the young age of fresh-out-of-the-womb.)  Then generally people say something along the lines of “That’s cute.” and then they try to find an appropriate way to ask me if he’s still alive. Then I have to do the decent human thing and find some gentle way to say “No he passed away,” followed by an insincere, “It’s okay.” 

 Just typing out that simple interaction drained me… Who wants to do that every time they get coffee or Panera bread? Who wants to explain that to some stranger while they’re out dancing? NO ONE. EVER. So Instead I switch between giving the name Neal and (on occasion) Nellie (fun fact I went by Nellie for a bit back in grade school and sometimes my mom even still calls me that, I LOVE IT). Besides. I have to explain my name ALL THE TIME at work when people think they are asking the most clever and original questions to a disgruntled cashier. It always starts with, “How do you pronounce your name?” 

 Okay that isn’t my sassy bit. 

Here it is: 

 Just a bit ago at my favorite coffee shop they called for a Cappuccino at the bar for Neal (me). So this group of guys on the couch is all whatever because obviously some dude has his drink at the counter. BUT THEN THEY SEE ME WALK AROUND THE CORNER. It’s like because it wasn’t a guy when they called a guys name it was ten times more satisfying/intriguing to give me a rather greedy once over. AND LET ME TELL YOU I DON’T EVEN LOOK CUTE TODAY. I AM OUT DOING HOMEWORK IN MY GRUBBY SWEATSHIRT AND LEGGINGS WITH THE SMALLEST AMOUNT OF MASCARA ON MY FACE AND THAT IS IT. Anyway. Today it grinds my gears right off because that happens a lot. Not always the getting checked out part… But the “name weirdness”. 

 Name weirdness cont: 

 People get all weird about it. Starbucks, my hole in the wall coffee shop, at Panera, you name it. Out dancing it’s hard to explain the name Nealie in a loud bar. Neal is just easier. Then at Panera the other day my order was ready before I had sat down at my table so the guy called for Neal. I’m all “Oh hey yeah that’s me, over here. Sorry. That was fast.” And this guy is still just kind of searching for this man named Neal. Good luck dude… You’re totally not going to find him. 

 Also my friends always kind of chuckle when I give the names Neal or Nellie. Mostly because the name Nealie isn’t that hard and they all feel that way too because they actually know me. People with the names Hannah or Katie or Lucy or pretty much anything you can find on a mug at some stuffy souvenir store don’t understand the struggle. 

 Mkay. Weirdness for the day over. Just feeling a little edgy about the whole thing. (If people didn’t ask such weird questions that aren’t even in the realm of pleasantries I wouldn’t have to change my name at all.) You know the drill… It happened in my brain so it had to be put on the internet and blah blah blah. 

 TOMORROW IS FRIDAY WOOHOO! I hope it is stellar and I’m going to be finally posting that vid from a million billion weeks ago. ILYSM. 

 XOXO

NBNealie



P.S. Here is my face and also Go Buckeyes but I love this sweatshirt. Don’t tell my Ohio Fam I’m wearing this.

P.P.S. Don’t tell my dad I stole his sweatshirt…