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Thursday, November 30, 2006

Filter Post #36 - "...and it feels like 'ooooh', but you don't know my name..."

For a very long time (until about 10th grade), the only two people on the planet who were allowed to call me "Rave" (without pissing me off) were 1.) my dad and 2.) my oldest and dearest friend, Dr. U.G.

Anytime anyone else called me "Rave" or "Ravey" or any other variation on my first name, I'd get annoyed.

Then, in the 8th and 9th grade, I made some friends who gave me the oh-so-clever nickname, "Brooks", which I was known by, until our falling out shortly before 10th grade.

"Brooks" was phased out and "Raves" became en vogue.

I've always gotten a big kick out of hokey TV/Movie villians (like Murdoc from MacGyver), who spewed numerous, yet ultimately, hollow threats and had a penchant for calling the hero by their last name -- often in the throws of "death" ('cause they almost always popped up again later).

e.g. Villain: "I'll get you [insert last name of hero]! If it's the last thing I doooooo..." (voice fade out, as the villain is plunging from a great height to his/her "death").

It's one of my favorite things in the world. It's how the whole "BROOKS!" / "SCHMIDT!" (and it's Smith College predecessor "BROOKS!" / "NAKHLA!")-call and response came about.

However, I feel like it's getting out of hand and that I may have to lay down some rules as to who may and may not refer to me as "Brooks".

To simplify things, if you already call me "Brooks" you may continue to do so; however, do NOT introduce me to other people as "Brooks", for the simple fact that you do not know whether or not I'm trying to lay my mack down. Or you can ask me, "Hey Brooks, tryin to get some action tonight?" And if I say yes...don't screw it up for me.

This rule does not apply to Seven, who calls me "Brook" and not "Brooks", and (as it turns out) Brooke is a useful and very simple pseudonym for me to remember. It's crazy how one little "s" can mean the difference between feeling like "the exotic and fascinating foreign chick" and "the plumber that came by to unclog your toilet".

Crazier still is the number of people who now only know me as Brooke. A few of them are listed in my cell phone as "Don't Answer"s 1-4. Note: that's how I know not to answer...

Tuesday night, Seven was gettin her hair did before hitting the road and enlisted the help of an acquaintance. This aquaintance and I were making some small talk, when I showed her a copy of the magazine where I work and my byline. All of a sudden, she was like, "Wait! Are you Brooke?!" and I was like, "Well, my last name is Brooks, but yes, sometimes people call me Brooke." She proceeded to ask if I had ever been to a club called Love. Why yes I had.

Long story short, it turns out one of the Don't Answers who had bought me drinks on the evening that I was there had mistaken her for me ("Brooke") and was quite confused, since we both knew a lot of the same people.

Oh, I've created a monster...Brooke is thy name.

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