and my last name is not Bflies.
i just had to come up with a name to prove to facebook today that i am a real person. which actually made me have so much fun, because appearently facebook has this name-check-something that decides whether your name is suitable to appear as a facebook member or not. in other words, if the words you type in the name and last name box do not resemble a real name, facebook does not open a page for you.
so, if say i was having coffee with wonder woman in my office this afternoon (which, of course, totally makes sense) and i could not open an account and wonder woman said “hold on, let me give it a try” and tried to type her name, we both would not be able to open accounts. (which would actually make me feel less pathetic)
and so i came up with the name sasha, because i could not be an anne-marie. she is way too french.
and she has a tiny face and a short asymmetrical cut. an anne-marie is able to fit a window frame with her tights and thick cotton socks and watch the snow flakes go down for hours with hot chocolate in one hand. she could even read in that narrow place without having to stretch every 20 minutes. an anne-marie is an elastic woman. she is into bale. but it’s ok, she still has a fine apetite. she would actually eat more pancakes than me on a sunday morning (just give her enough strawberry jam and she could digest pretty much anything).
i could not be helen obviously, i’m not blonde. besides helen owns a family car and i don’t even have a car. helen would be interested in reading my stuff, but i could not take the criticism that would follow, so that actually made me think helen is a bit irritating and i didn’t pick that name.
an isabel would be close, however she has long curly hair (mine is shorter) and she loves to shop for hours and hours. isabel is a crazy dancer and she is able to roll down 10 tequila shots a night (maybe even more) whereas i regret drinking 5 shots of tequila the day after, while trying to clean the carpet in my bedroom with a terrible headache (if you know what i mean). i wish i were an isabel, who wouldn’t! que culo!! ;)
eva is irritatingly beautiful. she is ok with a little yoghurt and some fruits for breakfast. she forgets to eat during the day, yet somehow (told you, she is irritating!) she still has the energy to exercise regularly. she is fit, smiling at all times (yes, irritatingly perfect teeth and she didn’t even have to wear braces! or, she is lying to me) always fashionable and successful and she is just ewwwww, you know! who wants to be an eva! ewwwwww! eva, just go be a romantic comedy star and don’t bother us! i’m not gonna be an eva!
plus eva has issues. really! remember the bitch, the slut and the whore post? eva is the slut! and she doesn’t even like feist! pffff…
sasha, on the other hand is a name used both by men and women (ok, stop imagining shane. i told you my cup size is D, could you follow my posts please?) sasha ranges from a brunette femme fatale (she is originally blonde, but she wears a wig not to be identified by the secret agents-but only for the first 10 minutes, don’t worry) to a 1.89m blonde russian drug dealer guy who wears the fingerless gloves.
sasha has this aura, this charm that let’s her do naught things and get away with the rules/the law/the kindergarden teacher. sasha has a cute smile. it’s like a johnny depp smile you know, even if you don’t belong to her team you could not say no to her.
sasha is witty and cunning. like chocolate, she makes you feel good but too much of it is bad for you in the long run. but then again, it’s chocolate and it makes you feel goooood, so if noone is looking, why not have another go with sasha.
besides, sasha would probably write a little poem on that piece of paper that was around the chocolate that you have just put in your mouth and she would hide it in one of your pockets and when you found the poem that smelled of chocolate, you would smile only for a few minutes, but the glitter would stay on your fingers for days to come.
hence, call me sasha.