A Rose Is A Rose Is A Rose Is A Rose

I still know the names of all my favorite childhood toys...

Mandy— the name of my most prized Barbie.  Marguerite Elena—the name of my favorite baby doll given to me by my Papa.  Little foot— the name of my absolute favorite stuffed animal that slept with me every night and who traveled with me until I was nearly a teenager.  Yes, no doubt names have always held a great amount of significance for me.

 I think that somehow, early on in life; I realized that a name is how we identify someone or something.  And with that name comes some sort of significance.

I blame this obsession with names on my parents.  You see, ever since I can remember, my mother and father have always reminded me of my name’s significance.


Long ago, in a land far, far away called St. Croix, U.S. Virgin Islands, my parents conceived their precious little angel.  That precious little angel is, of course, me.  Everyday, in the crystal blue waters of the Caribbean my parents snorkeled at a place called… wait for it…

Chenay Bay.  (You can go ahead and let out the “awwww…” now)




Chenay Bay, St. Croix, U.S. Virgin Islands


Mesmerized by the name (which is French and supposedly means “quiet in the forest”) when I appeared into this world, and they saw that I was a girl, Chenay Marie Jordan, is who I became.

So you can see why I have such an obsession with names carrying with them some sort of significance. 
 
In fact, all of our "kids" have names that are significant in some way.  Well, actually that's a lie... the only significance that our kids’ names have is that they are both somewhat funny and derived from someone or something famous. 





(Clockwise from top left): Morris, Marley, Hally, Kaya, and Alice

 Our boys are Marley and Morris; named after the renowned Bob Marley and the Nine Lives mascot cat, respectively. 

And our girls are Kaya, Hally, and Alice— named after the Bob Marley song; Halle Berry, the actress; and Alice Cullen from the Twilight series, respectively.  (And if you haven't figured it out yet, our "kids" are four-legged.)



Annie



However, our other "kid," Annie, came to us with her name (you could say she’s adopted) and so Jeff and I did not get to revel in the joy that comes with naming your "child."  I have struggled to make her name fit in with the rest of our bunch and all I really can come up with is to pretend she is named after Annie Oakley.

And yes, I realize all of this sounds absolutely INSANE, but hey, if you think that little musing is crazy— how about this one?  Because, shockingly, there's something else about names that I have always speculated about.

As a child and even now, I find myself pondering about why we call even the most mundane things by a certain name.  Like why do we call a car a car?  Or... why do we call pizza pizza? 

Who decides this stuff???

It's a matter that has always baffled me. I mean, how does one get that honor-- to name something completely and utterly colloquial?  And, I'm not just talking about inventions.  Like, who decided that we should call a steak, well, a steak? 

Are you following me, here?  Think about all sorts of random things for about five minutes and tell me if you know how all those things got their names.  Betcha you can't without starting to go slightly crazy.  It’s always fun just to sit there and ask yourself questions you can’t answer.   

But, in all seriousness, (and returning to my original point) names do carry with them some sort of significance.  And, in all honesty, what really got me thinking about names recently was that I decided to start this blog.

A few weeks ago, I decided to take a flying leap and dedicate all my time to writing.  That is to say, I resigned from my Marketing position at the magazine I work for (I use the present tense as I will still be writing for them) and am back to the rigor of being a freelance writer.  That being said, I figured that since I am supposed to be a "writer," I should probably actually write and publish regularly by way of a blog. 

And that of course meant that I would have to name my blog.  More importantly, I would have to give my blog some name that carried with it some sort of significance. (See?  Totally obsessed.)


I immediately thought that La Dolce Vida had a nice ring to it and pretty much summed up what I wanted my blog to convey.  That is to say, my goal for this blog is to simply muse about life in general and to make my readers smile and giggle here and there.  You know: the sweet life?  Yes.  Perfect!

Not so much because someone apparently thought that exact thing and as we all know, one can't have the same blog name/URL as someone else.  How quickly sweetness can turn sour.

I had to think a little harder to come up with the next idea, but soon This and That came to mind, yet, once again someone else also thought that blog name to be quite clever.


Throwing my arms up in the air, I decided to get creative.  Knowing that, apparently, the world was filled with a lot of other geniuses, I assumed that I think, therefore, I am would also be claimed so I went with the Latin for the phrase (Cogito ergo sum). 

Nope.  Are you kidding me?  Some jerk really named their blog “Cogito Ergo Sum?”  Actually, no… because I was so infuriated I looked it up.  It turns out, however, that the jerk is a she-jerk and her blog’s name is “My Thoughts” and she hasn’t even posted since 2001!

Totally frustrated by this point, I was coming to grips with the inevitable that somehow my own name "Chenay" would have to become a part of my blog's name. 

Something I was trying so hard to fight.  (Hey, give me some credit here.  I was trying NOT to be a name snob)

Sighing, I started brainstorming and came up with all sorts of alliterative names (most of them completely fatuous), and so it came down to two.


1. Chenay's Clichés
2. Chenay's Confessional

If you read the title of my blog, you can see that I decided against Chenay's Clichés.  But perhaps you are wondering why.  Well, after much thought, I figured that as a writer, I did not want to include my worst enemy into my blog's name. 

(For those of you who are unfamiliar, there is nothing worse for a writer than being cliché, and I really didn't want people to get the impression that every post they read on my blog would be just that.  Cliché.  Boring.  Unoriginal.  The thought is somewhat terrifying...)

So, (again, obviously) I went with Chenay's Confessional.  “But Chenay,” you ask, “what the heck does that mean?  You aren't Catholic.”

No, friends, I am not.  But I am a writer.  And one of a writer's favorite things to do is play with words.  I came up with the name because of my deep love affair with reality TV. 

You know, The Real World, Jersey Shore, The Girls Next Door, etc.? 

And if you are familiar with the reality show platform, you are aware that all reality shows have the infamous “Confessional.”  It’s the room that the cast mates go into and producers ask them questions about their day and their thoughts and feelings about various topics.  Alternatively, cast mates go into the Confessional to talk smack about other cast mates or be silly with their friends. 


It's actually a really ingenious concept.  I wish I had one in my house. 

Thus, “Chenay’s Confessional” was born.

In closing, on my quest for coming up with the "perfect" blog name, I stalked some of my friend’s blogs and ironically, my friend, Caroline, (whose blog is one of my absolute favorites) has also been pondering the importance of names of late, but for VERY different reasons.  You can read her blog here, and I highly encourage you to do so because her story is quite inspiring, and her words are incredibly thoughtful and eloquent.

Thanks for stopping by.  Until next time...