My name is my most important "possession." Because of this, I've spent much of my life correcting people's mispronunciations of my most commonly used name, Jonna--"like Donna with a J, you insipid jackass!"--with a protective zeal that occasionally makes me forget that I'm not without other nomen. Lately, though, I've re-discovered my middle name, Hilaire, and am reveling in not being "just Jonna."
My mom stole Hilaire from the semi-obscure British (but he sounds French!) writer, Mr. Hilaire Belloc. Belloc was a somewhat curmudgeonly fellow who is best known for writing sarcastic children's verse--giving us a certain kinship through time that I, a noted wiseass and somewhat superstitious person, cannot resist. Beyond this kinda-connection, I'm learning to love my middle name because it is all boy; it's always good to keep people guessing in the gender wars!
