recently, i've noticed more and more people asking me about my name. now, becca is a common name, as is rebecca. but i stopped going by rebecca when i was young. it was long, and combined with my last name, sometimes didn't fit on the 17 little spaces they gave you for exams and such. my dad used to always call me rebecca when i was in trouble, with this deep sounding voice and all- for instance he'd call me on the phone in college, and if he started off with "rebecca aline h...," i knew to say "oops! i'm just on my way to a study group/major exam/work/co-ed naked orgy in the arboretum!" plus, there was another rebecca in my pre-school class, so becca was a way of distinguishing me from her (apart from her strange love of cows and all things chanel). for me, it just worked.
until recently. like when i went for job interviews earlier this year, and my name became a topic of conversation. "is your name really rebecca?" "um. legally, yes. " "so why don't you go by it? are you ashamed of it?" "um. not really. i identify with becca more." "why don't you identify with rebecca?" "gee, sir. i don't know. why don't you identify with mr. shithead more?"
sadly, that response didn't win me any new career opportunities.
last week at the hospital, the nurse asked me why my first name was different on my health card than on the sign-in sheet. "it is?" i said. and he pointed to "rebecca" and said "yes." um. ok, dude. did you say this to mike when his card said michael?
this weekend, after the hawaii fluke that won't be (at least not for awhile), i made plans for our trip to los angeles next weekend. frontier was great and will accomodate my leg of lead. the hotels, though. well, one guy questions where "re" was staying. um, whahaat? yeah, he wanted to know if re h. was staying at a different hotel than becca h. dude, not funny. but i laughed anyway, hoping to not turn up at the hotel at 10pm at night to find out the only room left is a tiny janitor's closet with a cot in the back of the connecting 24-hour diner that only serves meatloaf, bison burgers, and oatmeal.
but the trials and tribulations of a girl called becca doesn't end there. i called the massachusetts dept. of education last week, and of course, with the 3 hour time difference, i got voicemail. i left a message and waited. and waited. and waited. but no return call. with my spill, i sort of forgot about it. until this morning.
someone at work sends out a company-wide email, saying he got a voicemail from the doe in mass, and if anyone at the company is named beckle, to let him know so he could forward the message. well, his number and mine only vary by one digit, and they're right next to each other, so i respond, and low and behold, the message is for me. so now all 500+ employees can refer to me as re-beckle. wonder if it'll fit on my business cards.