Names matter.
Originally this blog was going to be named Flat Chested Fat Girl. The inspiration for that title came from a nameless comedian literally decades ago. I love comedy, especially stand up and improv and I still watch specials from new artists on Netflix when I can.
Living in Houston and the burbs of New York allowed me to see a lot of comedians while they were still up and coming and even more never gonna happen people. This guy fell in the latter group. As he riffed on the horror of a woman being both fat and flat chested I remember thinking, “I resemble that remark.” Obviously, it stuck with me.
The title didn’t make it mainly because it turns out it’s a porn category. Seriously. Pages and pages of links to porn featuring flat chested fat girld. No, I didn’t click through. It just seemed… sad. The links that weren’t porn motivated me to keep it in the can for use at a later date as they were even sadder.
Next was Rena’s Web. This one is really sentimental for me. Rena is my nickname. My full name is a family name that is the Americanized spelling of the name of an ancestor. Family legend has it that the originator was Mexican but research suggests the name is far more common in Portuguese. So, maybe Brazilian? At any rate my premarried initials spelled WEB. My entire life, until the day she was taken from us, whenever my mom sent or gave me something the box or envelope would be covered in spider webs. Then there was Halloween in which spiders and webs became an overarching theme to her over the top decorations. We lived opposite an elementary school and I’ve actually seen some of the students cross the street rather than walk in front of our house come October.
Like mother like daughter I was fine with my initials being mom’s inspiration for horror. I love the holiday so much I hosted a Halloween themed surprise birthday party for my October born nephew two days after my hysterectomy. Though by hosted I mean lorded over from the sofa. That blog title didn’t stick because it is more about who I was than who I am now or who I am trying to be in the future. As you can see I chose to use it for the monthly dream segments with web referring to the infinite tangled spaces within the minds of each and every one of us.
The next was Old Mom, OM. I was going to use the OM symbol, ॐ. A sacred sound and a spiritual icon in Indian Dharmic religions, it is also a mantra in Hinduism, Buddhism and Jainism. I came to my senses and realized that using the symbol without honoring its meaning would at best be cultural ignorance and arrogance on my part. Without the symbol the cool factor is infinitely diminished. Anyway, I am not old. Not quite.
And then there was one. Growing up in the South of the US I don’t even remember the first time I was called ma’am. It was probably when I was a teenager. Now that I am thoroughly middle aged it still doesn’t bother me. I am a middle aged mom and I will be a middle aged mom for the foreseeable future. So call me MAM. And smile when you call me MAM.