I have always hated my first name. Terry. In sixth grade, Jimmy Brandstrater discovered it rhymed with "fairy." After the first of three fist fights I've ever had in my life, luckily the "fairy" part didn't live until seventh grade. But I am still plagued by people who mistake me for a woman or who spell my name "Teri" as if I were a Garr or worse, a Hatcher. It is a bland name, one that evokes little visceral response and it's gender confusing.

At various points in my career, co-workers have taken it upon themselves to call me "T.D." I readily, even happily, have responded. There's power in those initials, less formality and the logical extension of them is, of course, Touch Down! In business, those attributes are certainly a positive.

So I wonder, as I head into a new city and a new corporate culture far removed from Hollywood, is it pretentious of me to re-name myself "T.D."? There would be nothing insistent about it. I would toss it off as, "My friends call me TD," when introduced to someone new and it would include the newcomer into a more intimate, albeit a manufactured sense of familiarity.

What better jury than you, those who have read my journal for a long time and have some sense of who I am? Is this creepy and self-loathing? Or is it acceptable?

Current Mood: pondering
Current Music: a lonesome single engine plane mixed with bird-chirping