Wednesday, 16 September 2009

Rarities... or not...

When I was growing up, it took me a long time to get used to my name. I didn't like it and would have exchanged it happily and favourably for Stefanie (don't I ask me why).

It doesn't lend itself to short forms - the best would be Gesa, Gese, Kaese (cheese) or more imaginately in Glasgow Goose... as in Gese, Geese, Goose... Wow... a well of creativity. [and just two weeks ago my dad told others the story how it was their intention that none of our names could have short forms... again, don't ask me why!]

But: it is rare. Until I was 26 I never met another Gesa. I usually always knew of another Gesa, but never actually met her.

Then I was at a party of my new flatmate. Fifteen people and among them, three Gesas - and every time someone said Gesa, they didn't mean me. How bizarre.

Now... my email turned up this, this morning... and I. can marvel now at my strange collection of facebook friends (my clan of online vampire gamers... jaja, the things, curiosity gets you into).

This is decidedly funnier:

Gesa Helms is going to be friends with Gesa Helms.

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