I am in the BYU family history library preparing my Sunday School lesson on how to use and set up the basic computer stuff to do genealogical work. I am concerned that I am going to look like an idiot in front of everybody when something unexpected happens. And something will. That's what this life is made of. Unexpected events.
I have no problem looking like an idiot/admitting I don't know how to do something, but I hate hate hate it when people get mad at me for it. Oh well. I have some faith in the dear members of my ward. Some. And if they don't like the way I roll, they don't have to come back.
I neglected to mention that being in the Family History library on a Friday night makes me a really special kind of nerd. Now that I've gotten that out of the way ...
I have spent blog posts before talking about my name and the interesting (read: troubled) relationship I have had with it throughout my life. I hated my name as a kid, and I'm still not crazy about my last name, but it is definitely better than some of the disasters belonging to people I've met or gone to school with. Gigli. Faalisgaard. Ho. I would have to be desperately in love with the guy to put upon myself a name like any of those.
Now, I think I can say that I have come to peace with my name. I really do like it, even though most people cannot spell my name correctly to save their own lives. One of the things I like about it is that it's unique.
Uniqueness is a liability as a child, but an asset as an adult. Tonight, while I was practicing my familysearch archive-searching skills, I realized what a pain in the butt it would be to have an ancestor named "Jane Smith." Where would you begin? My dear progeny (assuming I ever have any) will have no trouble in this regard. I am thoroughly convinced I am the only me that does now or has ever existed.
Well, first of all, I am the only Elisa K**** on facebook. I recognize that facebook doesn't exactly draw from the entire world population, but there are a lot of freaking people on facebook.
Second of all, I googled myself. Here is what I found:
1. my blog
2. my old livejournal
3. links from my friends' blogs to mine.
4. a query by me from a family history website.
5. my time from a 5K I did last winter.
6. an essay from a contest I won my junior year of high school.
7. a random isolated list of all the girls in my freshman ward ... creepy
See what I mean? Those links are all me. It's neat but also sort of boring. And would theoretically make me a very easy target for stalking. Crud.
To further prove my point, I searched for myself on familysearch.org
206 results. All similar, but none are my name exactly. Some of those records date back to the 16 or 1700s. There's a fair heap of Elizabeth Kahlos, etc. But no Elisa K****s.
I am, for better or worse, 100% unique.
I could make a comment about not being married here but that would be overdoing it. But really, what an asset! If I ever publish a book, no other author will come up when someone searches for me. Actually that's the only asset I can think of. Besides never having to subject myself to a nickname like "fat Elisa K****" or "English major Elisa K****" to distinguish myself from all the other ones out there.
Thanks, Mom and Dad ...