maybe I'm racist against gingers

    Dear Harriet Walter,

    Firstly I would like to note that this is the first blog post I am writing from my new specially-for-college laptop. It is meant to be a little boys' laptop but I do not care. (The one downside to the little-boys thing was that when my sister and I were setting it up at first, we had to spend about half an hour battling the virtual nanny installation which wanted to rob me of my liberties.) It's awesome, being smaller than most laptops (just like I wanted), having lime green detailing and squishy rubbery ("wipeable keyboard!") keys, and, best of all, pre-installed Lego Batman. Awww yeeeeeaah.

    Secondly, I've finished reading Dear Enemy by Jean Webster and holy cow that book has enough discussion of eugenics to choke a camel. An unfit-for-breeding camel. That's ok, though, as it's a fascinating subject.
    Anyway so in it there was this one bit where Sallie, heroine of the book and superintendent of this orphanage thing, has had to hire a new cook for the orphanage, and the new cook is this black lady named Sallie. Sallie the superintendent is miffed that someone else has her name and is like "but I'm the Sallie around here can you change your name?" and Sallie the new cook respectfully says no ma'am, she, cook-Sally, has had this name longer than superintendent Sallie has and also couldn't get used to being called something else. The issue is dropped.
    I was disgusted with superintendent Sallie, of course. Asking someone to alter one of the fundamental points of their identity for her own convenience. Major points lost. She was probably being racist, too; it was the early twentieth century, after all.
    BUT THEN.
    For the past couple of years up until the past couple of weeks I've been working part-time in the bakery section of a local cafe. It's a fairly small business. Anyway BUT THEN I remembered that several months ago this cafe hired a new cook to work in the kitchen, mostly for weekend brunches, and she happened to have the same name as the owner of the cafe (who is an old friend of my parents', known her all my life). So to avoid confusion we all actually ended up calling the new cook Sam instead of her rightful name. I think Sam was short for her middle name or something. (She's not black, but she is ginger.)

    Guess what the new cook and the owner are both named.

    Guess.

    Guess guess guess guess.

    ...

    Sally.


    (yes I know I am too easily amused. time to go do some laundry.)