Mysterious
I guess I have missed a trick. Most of the bloggers out there do not reveal their true identity and call themselves tantalizing things such as 'petite' (you all know who I'm talking about) and have children called 'tadpole'. Brilliant! I have always wanted to be mysterious because Mysterious got the boys and the gigs. Mysterious left room for you. Mysterious made you want more not less. Mysterious was always beautiful (and normally slim and blonde)...
However, here I am again, as always, a big brunette wringing every bloody detail out about myself and my nearest and dearest, so I thought I'd introduce us formally for a change.
My name is Ruth. In France this is (mis)pronounced in three ways:
One: R as in c-R-oissant; U as in UGH; TH as in the sound you make when you accidentally bite on the clove in the apple pie and try to spit it out except it is already half way down your throat and is choking you.
Two: R as in saran- WR -ap; U as in t-U-nes when his cold is better; TH as in the noise the gaggia coffee machine makes when it is out of water.
Three: As above but with no effort whatsoever to pronounce TH, so with a hard T as in HAT at the end. This last and most common version is VERY unfortunate as it comes from the verb Ruter, which means Animal Bonk.
"Alors, Animal Bonk, can we start the andante at figure seven?"
Julian, my husband is, in French, conveniently metamorphosed into Julien, as in Sorel. This mysterious Stendhalian figure was a teenage heart-throb of mine and is the reason I am here and married to a Julian in the first place. 'Julien' fits the wild-curled leather-jacketed artist arriving paint-bespattered back from a day at the studio having accomplished several masterpieces of thundery skies over provencal landscapes.
However there is another version which is 'Julie-Anne' which suits my husband when he is weeping at a snowflake, or a Bonnard, or a Bach flattened sixth chord or even (get this) at James Taylor. It also suits him when he is wearing his pinny, reducing and deglazing a sauce to accompany some exquisite meal he is cooking me.
Then there are our two cats - Manon as in des Sources, so no problem there with pronunciation.
..And Oscar. Osca-R as in c-R-oissant, but this time a particularly buttery flaky one, all gooey on the inside and macho on the out.
However, here I am again, as always, a big brunette wringing every bloody detail out about myself and my nearest and dearest, so I thought I'd introduce us formally for a change.
My name is Ruth. In France this is (mis)pronounced in three ways:
One: R as in c-R-oissant; U as in UGH; TH as in the sound you make when you accidentally bite on the clove in the apple pie and try to spit it out except it is already half way down your throat and is choking you.
Two: R as in saran- WR -ap; U as in t-U-nes when his cold is better; TH as in the noise the gaggia coffee machine makes when it is out of water.
Three: As above but with no effort whatsoever to pronounce TH, so with a hard T as in HAT at the end. This last and most common version is VERY unfortunate as it comes from the verb Ruter, which means Animal Bonk.
"Alors, Animal Bonk, can we start the andante at figure seven?"
Julian, my husband is, in French, conveniently metamorphosed into Julien, as in Sorel. This mysterious Stendhalian figure was a teenage heart-throb of mine and is the reason I am here and married to a Julian in the first place. 'Julien' fits the wild-curled leather-jacketed artist arriving paint-bespattered back from a day at the studio having accomplished several masterpieces of thundery skies over provencal landscapes.
However there is another version which is 'Julie-Anne' which suits my husband when he is weeping at a snowflake, or a Bonnard, or a Bach flattened sixth chord or even (get this) at James Taylor. It also suits him when he is wearing his pinny, reducing and deglazing a sauce to accompany some exquisite meal he is cooking me.
Then there are our two cats - Manon as in des Sources, so no problem there with pronunciation.
..And Oscar. Osca-R as in c-R-oissant, but this time a particularly buttery flaky one, all gooey on the inside and macho on the out.
And the slippers. These have no name and are thus the only mysterious members of the family. Their purpose is to replace Julian, Oscar and Manon when I am on tour.
posted by ruth at 10:39 AM
8 Comments:
Mysteriousness-shmysteriousness.
I tell you how hard it is to meet these Mysterious People in real life and call them by their real names. It's just not possible. I can't do it. In real life, I end up calling them by their "pen names" (or should that be "keyboard names"?), because that's how I've always thought of them in my head.
I lay it all out and I'm not worried about it.
But perhaps I should get me a pair of Mysterious Slippers.
yeah but katia, you met petite. how awesome is that? even mysterioous slippers won't do that for you. there's a new post up for you kim.
Noo, I haven't met Petite yet. But will next week ;) And I'm totally positive that I will not be able to stop referrig to her as Petite. heh.
The problem with my name is that the French pronounciation is the same as that all over Europe, BUT my friends and family pronounce it differently (à la façon australienne - Kay-tee-ah, rather than Kar-cha). Much to the confusion of my French colleagues and friends, I obstinately continue to introduce myself as Kay-tee-ah to everyone ;) The French can be tetu, but so can I.
"Mysterious" probably really means 300 lbs, bearded & living in a Colorado frat-house.
Actually... you should check out
Natalie Biz, international librarian of mystery Who won a big blogging award here in new zild... came up on stage to accept & was revealed to be... a man!! Nice photos by the way...
Hi, I found your site through Katia's recent post about names. It never occurred to me to be anonymous on my blog. I guess it reflect the kind of person I am: very open. I'm open minded, open hearted and I like telling people about my experiences. I do go by my nickname and often call myself "Flare", which is short for putyourflareon. I also call my husband J or Julien (very popular name) or Mr. Flare. But I don't like to hide who I am even down to my name. My name is Aimée and I am used to the American AMY but everyone insists on calling me "Eh-May", which I have grown to love. Anyway, it's nice to run across your blog and funny that you write about this today because just last night I was wondering how my on-line blogging experience would be like if I was completely anon. All the bloggers that read my site, I know their names. We've establish this virtual friendship and go around calling each other by their first names online, it makes it more personal, I suppose.
Take care!
-Aimee
www.xanga.com/putyourflareon
PS. Those slippers look nice and warm! Where did you get those nameless slippers?
dear open minded and open hearted anonymous. the slippers come from john lewes are real lambswool and are made by wassbring which i think are swedish. they have a website but do not sell on line as i discovered when i wanted to get some bigger ones for julian as a me replacement. thanks for reading!
My husband is worried someone will track us down and rob our house when I tell people we are on vacation. We do plan to have a bloggers rendez-vous on March 11-- thanks to Petite -- and I'm sure it will be a good turn out. Maybe you can come?
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