I was informed this morning by my unhappy knee that trying to beat my best walking time yesterday was perhaps not the smartest move. Luckily, my knee wasn’t hurting badly, but I could tell that if I tried to exercise, it would rapidly get worse, so I didn’t today. I’m going to have to do some extra walking next week to get over the 100 mile mark for outside walking in March, so I hope the damn knee is better tomorrow. What’s odd is that this isn’t the same knee that hurt last time, so they’re taking turns, lucky me.

Hm. I think that paragraph belongs in the diet journal.

One of Fred’s employees’ wife had a baby last week or the week before, a boy, and they named it Coye. And I was passing a church this morning and the sign in front said "Welcome to the world, Lakely!" Coye and Lakely. Doesn’t anyone ever name their kids anything normal these days, like Bobby or Susan? I mean, Coye? What kinda name is that? (The way my luck runs, I have a reader named Coye being incredibly offended right now)

Fred and I chose the names of our future child/ren way before we ever met – Seth Forrest and Samantha Jayne. I still like Seth Forrest (yes, that Forrest), but I’m leaning toward Molly Jayne for a girl these days, because it’s such a lovely, old-fashioned name. I don’t know, though, because I ended up changing my mind on the spud’s name less than a week before she was born. The ex and I had decided on Jessica Leigh months before, but another name popped into my head, and I knew that that was her name. It’s as if she told me, that’s how certain I was.

For years and years, I swore that if I ever had a son, I would name him Ren. I wonder where I picked that one up.

Actually, I’d really like to name a boy Jack, but since that’s Fred’s stepfather’s name, I don’t want to piss off his dad (not that his dad would necessarily get pissed, but you never know).

Oh shit, y’all probably think I’m pregnant or something, don’t you? Nope, sorry to disappoint. Amy is, though. Congrats to Amy and Andy!

I used to just loathe my name when I was a young and stupid child, because I wanted to be Jaime Sommers, the Bionic Woman. For a while I told everyone that was my name and was the only name I’d respond to. They indulged me for a while but then got annoyed and refused to play any more. I also hated my name because every else’s name in the family ended with a "y" sound. Tracy, Randy, Debbie… and Robyn. And everyone always misspelled my name. People still misspell my name, even people who read my journal and send me email. They send email to robyn@hiwaay.net and start with "Hi Robin!", and it cracks me up. Plus, god knows it’s impossible to find anything personalized with the correct spelling of my name.

As a result, the spelling of others’ names is of particular interest to me. I’d be no good on Survivor, because we’d be trekking to Tribal Council, and I’d be saying "So, you spell it J-E-R-I or J-E-R-R-Y, or what? Oh, no reason!" And everyone would be misspelling my name when they voted me off, and I’d be in front of the camera bitching and whining about that at the end of the show. "I didn’t want to be on the show with a bunch of dumbasses who can’t even spell my name anyway! Fuckers!"

Alright, the rambling’s over. Let the weekend begin!