Another convergence of ideas, coming from a few enlightened fronts: first, been considering my virtual and real identities of late, and the Tastes Like Battlechicken has been curious as a kitty lately, too, (and it's a wonderful blog from every aspect) and names...what is going on with names. But this really tipped me over the idea bucket: The Dancing Tree/Pixelated Guilt, Changing a Main.
There is a thing in my family, I don't know why, or how, but we change names. I'm not necessarily talking about the addition or deletion of marital status, but our names. Sometimes it has stemmed from some minor emotional trauma, or other life-altering incident.
What's Your Name? What's Your Name? What's Your Name?When I was born, my mom named me Kxxxx. My dad asked if they could call me Kzzzz. Sure. I was named for an aunt, and since she was part of their lives then, made sense. I am much more of a Kzzzz than a Kxxxx, however. We moved to a suburb of Chicago when I was small, and I have this vivid memory of asking if I could go by Kxxxx from that point on, new school, new start, all of that. "Kxxxx" stuck all the way through high school. It is natural for me to answer to that name when friends and old boyfriends still refer to me by that name. But then again in college, because I went to school relatively close to my family, for some reason, perhaps it was because I brought a boyfriend home, and they all called me Kzzzz, I went back to that. (Confused yet? Me too.) I have kept that nickname my dad gave me since, although as mentioned, unless you knew me through family and call me Kzzzz, only those from high school or my job in my 20s, folks still call me Kxxxx.
Enter the Internet
I was always a writer/artist. I make marks. Some are colorful and good, and some are marring and need cleaning up. With the advent of social media, blogging, and all that it offers, I had what is both a liberating and highly combustible combination: immediate gratification for writing. Bam. Type It. Publish It. Be who I want to be. No one need see it, or read it, but it's there, like initials carved in a tree. The tree gets a little scarred, but the memory is rooted. And making funny avatars, and random blogs, and social media accounts...well, they've all kind of sprouted like clover on a golf course. Pretty, but unwanted. I have my professional persona, and now, gods help me, my Azerothian persona. There are folks who see me in Real ID, and it says "Kxxxx" and I have to explain that I'm really "Kzzzz." but for ease of use, just call me "Matty."
Will the Real Slim Matty Please Stand Up
When I read posts as beautifully written as Battlechicken's, (Ambermist? Mrs. Mist?) and others such as hers, I realize how alike and different I am to many players of WoW. This blog was always intended to be my little garden patch of thoughts, and other genres of writing, be they personal narrative essays, or other forms of fiction (as opposed to the fan variety), are for other venues. Until I need to get my photo on a book jacket, though, I am hesitant to post any personal photos, because once we see someone cast in a role, it's hard to re-imagine them.
So taking a cue from the adorable Erinys, here are some things about me, too:
1. I also look good in hats. Take my word for it. I can't wear them at my job (don't ask--something about gang colors, for God's sake...) and I knitted one myself one time. Once.
2. I have a chest and large box that my great-great-grandmother painted. It's in the Pennsylvania Dutch style. This great-great-grandmother loved to paint, and there were very few surfaces that did not meet her brush:
So in this little tiny corner of the web, I am Matty. You can call me that.
Erinys' post is...sublime: http://harpysnest.wordpress.com/2012/07/13/i-am-what-i-am/