Anonymity

One thing about blogs: the more people in your life who read them, the harder it becomes to write about your life. If, for example, I wanted to review the show I saw recently, I might stop myself for fear that friends in the show would stumble upon that review. Not writing the review, then, IS a review -- but it ain’t good reading. I can, of course, write about myself without fear; but then I run the risk of publishing the Narcissism Chronicles, which limits my readership to a very narrow and specific field of interested parties who’ve missed their morning doses. There must be a middle ground. Somewhere.

I pondered the possibilities this morning while simultaneously running my name through the myriad of online name generators. One of the last things a Nashville agent told me, upon hearing my Polish-jumble-of-letters surname, was that I needed a stage name. A performer whose name is difficult to pronounce, spell, or remember is less likely to be hired than other performers, and my name takes the prize in all categories. Unless I am present to do the demonstrative “lap – chin – ski” dance. This involves bending a little at the knees, first pointing toward my thighs, then upward toward my jaw, and finally whipping out a pair of air poles for an imaginary launch down K2. After such a display, my name remains difficult to pronounce and spell but becomes infinitely more memorable. My sanity, however, is soon questioned.

And so the internet search.

Online name generators came up with options like these: Emily Wilkinson, Kimberly Williams, and Gabrielle. There is also Eunice Dimples, Lily Moonshine, and Slut Bun Walla, but none of these names seem quite… me.

First of all, I don’t see any reason to change my first name. Short, easy to spell, difficult to mispronounce, and mine for more than three decades, “Kelly” works for me. Besides, I think I’d have a hard time remembering to respond to someone calling me “Eunice.” So, it’s the last name that I need to concentrate on.

Now, I happen to like my scribble of a signature, which consists wholly of two letters. This means, if I want to keep it, I have to choose a last name that starts with an “L.” Thus my fun-loving plays on the sound – Ells, Ellis, and Elski – are right out. The jazz world claims a “Kelly Lancaster,” and a Google search of “Kelly Lapp” and the odd concoction “Kelly LaBeth” find folks I’d rather not be confused with. And still, those names are not quite… me.

To find a name that felt more personal, I tried to circumvent the element of fakery by trolling through old family names: Kendall, Tisdale, Brooks… but nothing was working for me. I was stuck; the only name that fit was the one I was born with. After all, if the best revenge is living well, one should probably keep a name the bastards recognize.

And so my wasted morning solved neither problem: neither a stage name nor a blog perspective was found. Unless….

Hi. My name is Josephine Bloganski, and let me tell you about this show I saw this weekend….