more mysterious

Mysterious has her breakfast outside, (it's ten degrees and the sun is HOT) and contemplates the continuing question of what's in a name....

When I was with my with ex-boyfriend, Franck, the Rochellais presq'in laws had great trouble digesting and spluttering over my name so finally, having been the victim of much oyster-flavoured spittle, I gave them the option of calling me by my first name - Eleanor (Eleanore). They leapt at the chance and thus my gamine marine phase was born. To them, Eleanore was elegant, charming and somewhat subservient to their beloved son. She demanded nothing, nor did she say "f**k" or "Wot?" and she did not drink too much. After a couple of years I realized she wasn't me, exploding in a plea to revert back to "(splutter)rrrrruuuuuuussssss(splat)"

After all, a rose is a rose is a rose is a rose..
And a ruth is a ruth is a ruth is not an Eleanore.