So I have a weird name. I get it, it's complicated, strange, not the average. My first name is Ann Burr. Together, two words, one name. It's like Mary Jane, or Sara Lee, but instead of being two names that are normal, my middle name is Burr. So everyone gets it wrong. I get called Ann. A lot. Like, by people which whom I have worked for 10 years. I also get called Amber. A lot. Which is fine, except Amber totally sounds like a stripper name to me, or a porn star name, maybe because it actually IS a fucking porn star name. If I had a nickel for every time someone thought it was hysterical to call me Amber Lynn, well, let's just say I'd have plenty of nickels.
I don't automatically answer to "Ann," because it sounds like someone else's name to me. I do answer to Amber because it sounds enough like my name that half the time I can't even tell if people are fucking it up or not. I do not answer to Amber Lynn. Anymore. (Dude, college was a long time ago).
All this to say that I kind of like the stone amber. I appreciate the irony, I guess, and also, it's pretty:
Ted and I have a checkered past when it comes to gift giving. But every now and then my Smoochie Bear hits it out of the park, and such was the case when he returned from a European business trip with an amber pendant necklace. I loved it. Well, sort of. I loved the stone. I hated the setting:
It doesn't look so bad here (I mean, the picture's crappy, but give me a break, I'm still learning how to use the goddamn camera), but the back of the chain hoop thing is really pointy and hurts. And just trust me, it's ugly. But it doesn't have to be! My plan is to take it to Stephen Goodman's shop in New Haven and have him fix it. This is what I want it to look like:
Then I will love it and I can wear it and feel like I get the joke, even if no one else does.