Skip to content

Under the Spell of a Name

source url thesis on artificial neural network how to write a research paper for college i neeo premarin bank letters to customers best mba essay writers service gb doing thesis statement new year essay india dissertation university of south carolina que j ai essaye viagra alcohol drunk https://www.aestheticscienceinstitute.edu/medical/long-term-side-effects-using-viagra/100/ go site https://www.csb.pitt.edu/rating/how-do-i-change-font-size-on-my-ipad-emails/41/ cialis 20 mg ervaring blueberry sildenafil 100mg go child soldiers in sierra leone essay outline https://mainejournal.umaine.edu/wp-content/uploads/index.php?generic=brand-name-of-sildenafil english essay weather business computing dissertation topics suggest some canadian pharmacies https://shilohchristian.org/buy/argumentative-essay-wikihow-rubiks-cube/54/ source url source url essay on smoking should be banned in public places buy already written essays online follow link watch bergen tech essay australia essay writing service source A palm reader once told me I was going to marry a man named Andrew. I guess it could still happen, but I wouldn’t bet money on it. I have been married once and it wasn’t pretty. I have no plans to let it happen again, though if it does, odds are it won’t be to an Andrew. In the year of my birth, the most popular baby boy’s name was Michael; the second most common was David (my father’s first two names are Michael David). David stayed in the top five until 1987. At my school there were so many Davids, I almost felt as though “Dave” was another word for boy, just as “Sue” meant girl. At college, Daves remained plentiful. My immediate social group included three. To make things less confusing, I picked up the macho habit — common among my male friends — of referring to them by their last names: Bilton, Priestman and Finn. When Priestman and I became a couple, I was so used to calling him by his last name that I continued to do so for the two and a half years we were together, even when we were on our own. Names are like magic spells: They work on us unconsciously. Some seduce us with their loveliness; others are warning signs that say, “Watch out, here comes heartbreak.”