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Write about your first name: its meaning, significance, etymology, etc.
I once had to write a short essay in my high school Spanish class about how my parents chose my given name & why, then read the story aloud to the class. So, I asked my dad who was sitting at his home office desk after dinner, how he chose my name. & why.
I should preface this by saying my dad was under the influence of a few glasses of post-dinner vodka. Yup, my dad was not quite sober when I decided to ask him a very serious question for my school homework assignment.
I couldn’t believe how he could try to keep a straight face while giving me a completely bullshit answer. As I kept asking him if what he was saying was the truth, he started cracking up. What was the story he made up about the origin of my name? Well let me tell you it was weird.
Let me start by saying if you’ve been paying attention to my username/handle, & you know an intermediate amount of Japanese vocabulary, then you can pretty much guess what my name is (or at least half of it). So, my name sounds like a Spanish name, but my family has no ties to any sort of Spanish culture or ethnicity. My entire family tree is as oriental as you can get. However, when my dad immigrated to the United States, he landed in San Antonio, Texas & immediately fell in love with Tex-Mex culture. That’s probably the real reason he chose a Spanish-sounding name for me. The story he told me?
Well, well, well. My dad (who had been a banker his entire professional career), told me that the first known lesbian he ever worked with had that first name. He went on to say he greatly admired that coworker (but did not elaborate on why), & that he liked the sound of her name, so he chose it for my name when I was born.
No matter how many times I asked him to tell me the truth, he stuck to that story. I even asked my mom if she knew why my given name was chosen, & she had no clue whatsoever. All she could say was that she let my dad pick my name at birth. I don’t know why I never questioned my dad again about it. Was it pure laziness on my part? Most likely. Was it a bullshit story made up by a man whose liver was soaked in a potato-based alcohol? Absolutely.
I ended up using that story for my homework assignment, but I embellished the story a little bit, mostly to fit the length requirement of the essay. I don’t remember what I wrote or what I ended up saying in front of my classmates, but I do remember my utter embarrassment in having to use that as my name origin story.
My dad has been out of the picture for 14 years now. So, I guess I will never know the true story of how I got my given name. That’s ok, though. I have kind of grown into liking my dad’s made-up farce of a backstory. It’s quirky, & that’s kind of cool. That’s all. Until the next one, cheers.
Song of the day:
The year of 2025 is over, & I am incredibly grateful & appreciative for such an eventful year. The biggest milestone of that year was my child turning 5. I cannot believe she is already half a decade old already. Five years in, & I still cannot believe that I am a mother, a caretaker of another human being that I helped to create. I mean, I still feel like a child myself most days. How could I possibly be responsible for a child of my own? It’s hard for me to wrap my head around it, but it’s happening, & I am figuring it out minute-by-minute.
Here are a few other things that I am grateful for that happened in 2025:
- I’ve made some small, yet positive steps towards changing a few stubborn habits & behavioral patterns
- I’ve learned to be slightly less of a ‘helicopter parent’
- I went on TWO major & meaningful overseas vacations
- I strengthened relationships with family members I have struggled to communicate with in the past
- I was able to take my mom on a significant & core-memory-making overseas trip with her youngest granddaughter (for context, she has never been on any significant trip with any of her grandchildren, ever.)
- I only (unwillingly) listened to &/or heard the song All I Want for Christmas is You by Mariah Carey THREE TIMES throughout the entire Thanksgiving/Christmas holiday season.
- Plenty of western Christmas music was played all throughout the Asian countries I visited during my 3-week autumn/winter vacation, but I only heard Mariah’s voice blaring once the entire time. Hallelujah!
Seriously, you don’t understand how grateful I am for that last item on my list. Well, I mean, I don’t necessarily hate that particular song, but hearing it more than a few of times (& I used to work in retail at my local shopping mall for a few years) can be incredibly annoying & boring.
As for this new year, 2026…I am not sure if I am looking forward to what lies ahead. I have mixed feelings as of right now. My child is about to leave preschool & move on to elementary/primary school. If you’ve been following my blog since the beginning, you’ll understand that I am extremely afraid of any type of change…like, life-altering/milestone types of change, not change in weather or fashion, or tv shows…so, I am feeling mixed bouts of anxiety at the moment. Maybe that’s what triggered me being ill at the very start of the new year. Who knows? I probably just need to build up my immune system. (I’ve been under the weather more times in the past year than any other year within the last decade.) We’ll see. Until the next one, hope for the best.
Song of the Day:
I was listening to the song “Your Side of Town” by The Killers on the radio today, and it very much reminded me of a close friend of mine who has the same tastes in western music as I do. The style of this song got me reminiscing about the kind of music each of us used to listen to when we were in high school…or maybe even younger.
I was listening to this song, bopping along in my car, and my mind started imagining and making up a story/scenario. I was imagining my friend being back in high school, but the whole tone had a John Hughes (a classic 1980s movie director, if you didn’t know) vibe. I was picturing my friend standing against the wall on the side of the school, wearing skinny-ish jeans & a slouchy blazer with a collared shirt & skinny tie, trying to flirt with girls while feeling super angst and moody.
That got my mind drifting and wandering even more, & as I parked my car in my driveway, I stopped my imaginary stories. I suddenly realized, while also talking to myself aloud in the car, that I love my imagination. I love the way my mind drifts & I can invent wild & fanciful stories that I can picture to myself so vividly.
I have always been a kid who can make up stories with my own imagination, on the spot. I rarely write them down, but I often remember stories I’ve thought of years ago. Sometimes I will go back to one of my old imaginings & reimagine the whole scenario with added embellishments, or to fit the current time. Other times, I will think back on an old story I made up just to reminisce about that scenario I once thought of.
No matter how old I get, I will never stop imagining stories or daydream in my mind. I love every one of my made up stories. They are little scenes just for me, and they make me so happy. Cheers.
Rabbits & Foxes 
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