I'm wondering if Shakespeare had it right and that names are a meaningless convention. Would I still be the person I am if I had been born Michelle Lynn Armour or Lucinda Armour as my mother had once considered. This question comes to mind as a ghost from my past crossed my e-path this evening. It brought back a few embarrassing memories and then it occurred to me that this man shares the same first name as many other guys in my life. It is a common enough name and one I have always liked the sound of. But of all the names in the world how is it possible that I have had a "relationship" (relationship in this case is to be defined as anything from first kiss to unrequited love to lover) with no less than five guys who shared the same first name. This must be a very rare case. And any readers who know about my ex-husband - no, the name in question is not John. He was my one and only "toilet" and I hope to keep it that way.
Seriously, between lovers, friends, crushes, husbands, boyfriends...how is it possible to have that many with the same first name and they were all soooo memorable and all made big impacts in my life whether they knew it or not.
Perhaps, I should avoid men with this name on the future.
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