A Harper by any other name

Today's post is a note on names.

As you will know, I use nicknames to refer to people in this blog instead of real ones. I'm still not sure why, as I doubt anyone who doesn't know the true identities of everyone I write about reads this account. But it certainly adds an air of mystery, and is fast becoming the Next Big Craze (and yes, this is my blog, and I'm allowed to exaggerate).

The blog nickname is now a fashion item, something convenient to take with you wherever you may go. Portable, attractive, and personalised. What's not to love? They're extremely desirable, and only available to a select few.

For example, my sister entered my room only a few minutes ago to complain, after reading the previous post. 'You've mentioned me twice, and I don't have a nickname yet! Drummer Boy has one, but I'm only in as your little sister.'

I, who was in the middle of a perplexing question on my Maths assignment, sighed. 'What kind of thing do you want?'

'Um . . .' she stalled. 'How about - Princess - Narnia - Trilogy - um . . . Pi - Ishiguru - Nix . . .'

'Are you reading those names off my bookshelves?'

'Possibly.'

'Well, I suppose you could be - Pntpin. No, that's not a word. How about . . . Pontoon?'

'I can't have that! It makes me sound fat!'

'Well, what do you want?'

'I don't know. But I want you to write a story about me. The last time you wrote about me you just said I was reluctantly grating cheese. I want a proper one.'

Inspiration struck. 'How about the Reluctant Cheese Grater?'

'No!'

'Or the RCG.'

'No.'

'Well, unless you can think of anything better, that's what it's going to be.'

She then hung on my door handle for the next few minutes, whining, until she finally got bored and vacated the room.

Sister o' mine (name unmentioned), you have 24 hours before the RCG sticks. If you want to make another suggestion before that time is up, feel free. Otherwise, Cheese Grater it will be. And as I foresee keeping this blog well into my adult life, and people are doubtless going to be curious as to the origin of the acronym 'RCG', I would use this time wisely.

I generally let people choose their own nicknames, unless I have to write about them before meeting them again. In this case, I choose a name based on what I know about them. I often have to do this anyway, as people can be surprisingly indecisive. Middle names are a good place to start. With Ariane, for example. And partly Marie-Clare. Also Shoelace, but to a lesser degree. Shoelace is half-Chinese (the other half, I think, is Scottish) and her middle name is Suling. This nickname isn't new, she'd had it for some time before I started this blog. It was accidentally coined by Ariane, who, upon hearing the name, went 'You know, Suling sounds a lot like Shoelace.' Since then, it's taken off.

A lot of the nicknames are ones that were already in use. Peanut, for example. And Lala. Giuseppe was never a nickname, but it used to be the subject of a joke between us so it seems fitting to have it now.

Anyway, since the beginning, the nicknames have gained astonishing popularity. As mentioned, Giuseppe now calls me 'Leslie' in school. She even called it across the room in Maths yesterday - to my shame, I looked up. At my school, we get jumpers at the end of Year 10 (just to prove we've been there, probably). They have 'Year 10 2010' (or whatever year) written across the front, and a nickname on the back. Giuseppe, Marie-Clare and I are all considering getting our blog names on the back. Nobody else will get it, but we love to perplex.

I personally will have to go with 'Leslie M.' as there is already someone with the last name Harper in our year. In hindsight, it wasn't the best name to choose. Especially as there's also a photographer called 'Leslie M. Harper' (they couldn't even pick a different middle initial! The cheek!). I suppose I could go back and change it to 'Lander'. But I probably won't.

I even created a coat of arms for the name:

The castle thing is because Leslie means 'grey tower' (or 'holly garden', but when was the last time you saw a picture of a holly garden on a coat of arms?). The owl is the Egyptian hieroglyph for M. Also, I like owls. I'll assume you can guess what the harps are for. If you can't - well, I'll just assume that you can. The character on the bottom right is for my star sign (I'm not so big on the zodiac, but it also looks like an M. It also looks a bit like an MP, which is good, because I like Monty Python. Not because I want to be a politician. As I don't). The motto should mean 'In strange things we trust'. It probably doesn't, though, as I used an internet translator.

Seeing as I've done the others, I should probably put a rationale of my name as well. Leslie is the middle name of the pianist (and member of The Comedy Store Players) from Whose Line Is It Anyway. Boy, was that a vague reference. The 'Harper' is after David Harper, from the second series of an awesome English TV show. Go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/This_is_David_Lander for a bit of an explanation. Or don't if you don't want to. I'll probably tell you all about it at a later date anyway.

The M is from the character of M in 'James Bond'. I'll tell you what it stands for as soon as he does. Or she, depending on whether you're thinking about the books or the new movies.

Anyway. The history of names. Extremely exciting. I've tried hard, and I'd like to think that everyone is happy with their nickname, from Marie-Clare (who looks French) to Gwen (who wanted Guinevere, but had to settle with the next best thing) to Chinny (whose real name is a nickname anyway: we call her that so often, in fact, I had to give her a new one).

With the possible exception of the RCG, anyway.

Leslie's Recipes: Tortellini

You, my readers, will know well what happens when I am unleashed in an ordinary suburban kitchen. My family, it seems, do not. Only yesterday my mother said to me (while I was innocently trying to watch an episode of 'This Is David Harper', one of the best shows ever made; hence, I was not at the height of my arguing skills) 'Could you see to dinner? You just have to get the tortellini from that packet in the fridge and cook it, and serve it with some grated cheese or something.'

With this brief, I reluctantly agreed to the task, girded myself (metaphorically speaking, as I wouldn't have a clue as to how to gird something, even if I tried), and set to it. For those of you who would like to follow my progress, the recipe is here, although it comes with a health-and-safety warning.

1. Open fridge. Look for tortellini. Discover a complete absence of tortellini. Take things out of the fridge in attempt to see better. Find ravioli, jar of jam, and anchovies. Still no tortellini.

2. Eat anchovy to raise strength. Put tin back and look for tortellini again.

3. Enlist parent's help in finding tortellini. Parent points out tortellini packet on shelf below the one I was searching through. Remove tortellini from fridge.

4. On closer inspection, the tortellini are bright green. Experience feeling of worry until noticing that packet says they are spinach flavour. Hope this means food poisoning will not result from consumption of said pasta - although with spinach, you never know.

5. Boil kettle. While waiting for kettle to boil, go and watch 'This Is David Harper' or show of similar excellence.

6. Realise kettle has boiled and cooled down again while show was being watched. Re-boil kettle.

7. Pour boiling water in large saucepan.

8. Realise should have put tortellini in saucepan first, as otherwise, when placed in pan, boiling water will splash.

9. Try putting tortellini in one by one. Get bored. Try throwing handfuls in from a distance instead. This is less accurate, but more efficient. Also getting good practice in with aiming skills for netball.

10. Turn heat on.

11. Discover younger brother (Drummer Boy) in room. As pasta is now cheerfully boiling away, decide to give him the English speech that is due tomorrow, even if he won't understand it.

12. Drummer Boy criticises several main points of English speech. Pasta tries to boil over. The distraction is welcome.

13. Eject Drummer Boy from room, claiming to be too busy to listen to him.

14. Watch tortellini cook, stirring occasionally.

15. Get bored and search the fridge for cheese.

16. In meantime, pasta boils over again. Turn stove right down to prevent re-occurrence of same incident.

17. Search for cheese again. Eventually, kneel down in despair at non-presence of cheese. Look up to discover cheese is now at eye-level.

18. Realise pot has stopped boiling all together. Turn heat up again. This time, swear to pay close attention.

19. Catch pot just before it boils over. Success!

20. Wonder when tortellini is supposed to be finished. Cannot check cooking instructions as have thrown packet away. Remember that with spaghetti, one way of telling whether it's cooked or not is to throw it at the ceiling. If it sticks, it's done.

21. Tortellini is not done. Either that, or my ceiling is non-stick.

22. Eat some tortellini in despair. It tastes done. Decide to risk it and serve.

23. In exhaustion, try to get Drummer Boy to grate cheese.

24. Drummer Boy fails in an epic manner. Clearly I am not the only culinary disappointment in this household. Younger sister is forced to grate cheese instead, which she does with much reluctance.

25. Decide to drain tortellini.

26. Drop tortellini in sink.

27. Rescue tortellini. Look for colander. Cannot find colander. Drain tortellini in sieve instead.

28. Serve tortellini up. Eat. Am hugely impressed with my skill with food. Sister is less impressed it took half an hour to cook pasta. She still eats it, though. Am glad I decided not to mention my attempts to stick pasta to ceiling before consumption of said pasta.

29. Celebrate by reading Wodehouse throughout dinner. Meal is a success.