When people say my name a lot, I'm very uncomfortable.
"How are you, Heather?"
"Heather, have you read the report? Let me know what you think, Heather, after you finish reading it."
"Good morning. Let's meet after lunch, ok, Heather?"
or the worst (sorry DJF) "Hello, Heather"
When people call my name, my skin crawls a little. Maybe I prefer eye contact to identify who the speaker is speaking too. Look at me. Who else could you possibly be talking to? Or maybe it feels too fake, too pseudo-personal-- that's where the "article" is going--say my name to make me think that you feel connected, say my name over and over again to brainwash me into thinking you are my friend. Does that tomfoolery constitute flirting? Hogwash. [it's 1920 now? yikes]
My friends call me lots of things. Very rarely Heather. What do your friends call you?
Maybe those interactions where people say my name make me uncomfortable especially at work for this very reason-- it's false intimacy. What's grosser than intimacy faked? Barfbag.
I know this is a sort of stupid blog today. I do beg your pardon. I'm just being a writer and procrastinating. I'm not writing down the bones sotospeak. I'm writing crap until I'm ready to write the stuff that's been banging around in my head and making that awful racket this week/month.
To the words in my head--not today. Pipe the fuck down. I'll get there. Don't rush me.
Writers are such ridiculous people--obsessed we are with magic, voodoo, sorcery, fruition, divination, manifestation, and augury. And lists too, just not stupid flirtatious lists. Obsessed with all lists, with using our vocabularies and thinking through each word that makes every sentence. It's crippling. Especially if you, like me, are already in a peak procrastination phase and want to avoid writing at all costs, making sure each word is perfect in your head BEFORE you start writing. That's the best way to never write anything ever again. It's an internal dialog alright and a complete scare tactic. It's crap--my critic strikes again. That's why, I'm so sorry for you readers, I'm writing this pure drivel. Wasting time, mine & yours. I owe you one. I won't forget.
* I don't even know why I care to read these articles, other than boredom or procrastination, except that I find myself rather horrible at flirting. Best said, if flirting was a means of survival, I would die.