Now ... well now names aren't given the respect they deserve. People name their children on a whim. Because it sounds good. Because it's cute. Because it's the name of a fucking car or favorite drink.

Fortunately some people still realize the value of a good name. Maybe you could too. That way, the next time you meet someone named Mercedes, you can competently ask her if she was named because it's Spanish for 'merciful' or because her parents are assholes who think it's cute to name their kid after pretentious cars.

So with no further ado ...

I grew up hating my name. It was boring, no one else had it ... and it was only four fricking letters. I expected myself to get lost by the wayside, so insignificant seemed my name, and of course by preteen logic ... me.

But I was a stupid kid. At that age when all you want to do is fit in with everyone else, including having a regular name like Andrea or Natasha. Some name where you could write it on the wall of the girl's bathroom and no one would know who did it. Tough luck trying to do that when you're the only Nola in your school. When you're one of about 10 Nola's in your entire fricking country. Not so easy then huh?

But like I said, I was a stupid kid. Didn't realize the value of a name. Of having my own name and understanding the pride that should be felt behind it. Nope. I so hated my name back then, I wanted everyone to call me by my middle name Michelle. See how easy that rolls off the tongue? Michelle ... MECH-shell. How awesome is that?

My family didn't help matters, since I grew up with them all calling me Michelle, which just helped to reinforce how crappy Nola was. Hell there was even a time I fantasized that people would call me Emma ... don't know why Emma, but I loved that name.

Then I turned 13 and during that year someone brought a babynamer book to school. Out of curiosity I decided to check out what Michelle meant. 'Who is like God.' Not bad for a name ... although my atheist belief does make it sort of ... ironic.

Anyway, since I had the book handy, I figured I'd take a gander at the bane of my existence, although I didn't really expect to find anything, since obviously a name as dumb and as obscure as Nola wouldn't even be in the book. I was wrong. Boy was I wrong. There it was, feminine of Nolan, meaning 'the famous one.' That shut me up pretty fast. Suddenly I'm all smiles, marveling at having such a damn cool name. Destiny? Fate? Who knows? Who cares? My name rocks. The famous one who is like God. Ha ... take that Andrea and Natasha ... My name tops you both.

Of course because of my untrusting nature I had to go do more research on the wonderful name that had been bestowed upon me, just to make sure that damn baby book wasn't messing with me. Good thing I did, because it turns out there's a dispute over my name. Some people think it's derived from Gaelic meaning 'the famous one' ... while others believe it's derived from Latin meaning 'of noble birth' You know what? Tomayto Tomato, my name rocks.

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