I approve of this status.

Leave a trail of candy behind you.

Without such motivation, I'm sure it will be like herding cats.

I absolutely hated my name.

I came from a mixed marriage. Mom is Mexican. Dad is your generic white dude. My mother decided to name me after my grandmothers, which is great in theory, but was horrible in practice. One grandmother is Mexican, one is this odd hybrid of Polish-Serbian-God-knows-what.

So I wound up with "Juanita Millie". Juanita is obvious. Millie was, oddly enough, an Americanization of the name "Milava" (so Grandma told me). That name was the bane of my existence my entire childhood. First of all, my mother declined to teach us Spanish, so I constantly found myself engaged in this conversation:

Person: "What's your name?"
Me: "Juanita"
Person: "<string of Spanish I only understand half of because I have the Spanish comprehension of a four year old>"
Me: "I don't speak Spanish"
Person: "WHAT? Why don't you honor your mother/blah blah/whatever"
Me: "...."

Or alternately, I'd get the whole "oh, a 'Juanita'...she doesn't speak English":

Person (very slowly): "HEEELLOO WAAANEEETA. ARE YOUUUU UNDERSTANDING WHAT I AAAM SAYYING"
Me: "..."

I had long gone by the nickname Nita, because many of my friends rightfully had long ago decided "Juanita doesn't suit you, you aren't very Mexican." It would be a cold day in hell before I went by Millie, so Nita it was.

By my mid-twenties I had developed an utter hatred of my name. When I got married, I changed my last name, but cringed inwardly because I had to leave my first two names the same. And then I got divorced.

I remember when the divorce came through, a couple of friends of mine asked me if I was going to change my name back. I was so irritated by my name I said "whatever, don't care." And then my friend said the magic words:

"You know, it only costs a couple of hundred bucks to change your legal name to whatever you want."

Oh. My. God. It was like the heavens opened up and the angels burst forth with song. Two days later I was filling out the paperwork. Six months of crap later, I had a new name.

I settled on Nita Brooks. Honestly, Nita suits me just fine. Brooks came from my Grandpa J.B., who was my hero growing up.

So the answer this question, yes, I like my name now. I'm happy with it. I'm sure my mother will shit bricks the day she finds out what I did (nope, never told her - seven years of subterfuge and counting), but I don't care.

The End.

Oh, but you can be me! Here are the steps.

1) Lock yourself up in a practice room with the oboe for years on end. Become good at the oboe. Lose social skills.
2) When not locked up with the oboe, stay in the library with your nose in a book. Lose more social skills.
4) Move from the practice room/library and take up programming and PC gaming. Lock yourself in a room in front of a computer for years on end. Gain awkward geek social skills. Continue to lose public social skills. Forget how to dress.
5) Begin purchasing clothing options at thinkgeek.
6) Collect action figures and gain fluency in internet memes. Present yourself to the public. Nobody gets anything you say.

Voila. Nita accomplished.

Please remember, this entire process takes around 15 or so years. Some components you will be unable replace (i.e., female, half-mexican, short), but with some inspiration you can make it work.

You're welcome.

Ice cream is always a valid celebratory meal.

Because @chrisbarmonde is an inherently competitive person. If he can make a contest out of it, he will.

Eating dinner: "Jealous of how much more chicken and dumplings i get than you?"
Cats: "Jealous of how Salem is the Best Cat and your cat is the worst???"
Programming: "Jealous of my flawless code?"
Driving: "Jealous of my gas mileage?"
Games: "Jealous of my <latest game purchase>?"

JEALOUS OF HOW WELL I HAVE YOU PEGGED, @chrisbarmonde????

I surrender.

I love purple. Deep burgundy/wine type purples. I walked out of my last foray into a salon with purple highlighted hair. I love purple.

On a somewhat related note, purple comforters are awesome. Unfortunately, I'm bound by the cat hair clause in my comforter purchases. As in, I pick one up and evaluate it for its Spot Hair Magnetic Properties (I have declared this a scientific principle). All comforters failed the test.

:(

The pretend universe version of me is on Abydos fighting the Goa'uld.

The cool universe version of me actually has a date. Like with another person.

The nightmare universe version of me is still living in Vegas working at you-know-what-company.

A lot has been done to make things better. We still have a lot of work to do.

Hot Dog. Bun. Mustard. Anything else is an insult to the hot dog.

We've barely had any! I am currently staring out the window at the first real snow coming down. It's been tragic. The mountains were BROWN, not snow-capped up until a few days ago.

You don't get any snow until I'm done with it. So there.

I'm pretty sure scientists would want to perform that as an experiment at CERN, because Spot would beat the faster than light neutrinos trying to get away from it.

Either that or he'd just stand there in terror and poop himself in fear.

Cartoons? Who watches those??? Did @chrisbarmone put you up this question?

I always have a to-do list. I use Hit List for work and Google tasks for personal stuff.

I think it's the simplest way of getting organized. Think of something. Jot it (or type it) down somewhere. Check it off when done. You don't need to schedule it. Just look it up when you have free time and Get Shit Done.

The smartest list I have is the grocery list. I have saved so much money because I walk into the grocery store with a plan, and walk out with what I need. No extras, no waste. Of course, I organize my list by grocery store aisle, which may be overboard for some.

I also alphabetize my vegetables.

I wish I did. I learned to shoot a gun last May. It's been my goal to own one and be good at using it.

That frightens people I know for some reason.

I have a pie pop maker. Pie pops > cake pops.