Right after I was born, from 4:57 am on September 28th until until the 31st, I was Annalisa. I still feel more like an Annalisa than a Heather, but my name was changed because my older sister's name was Karen Elisa, and Dad said they would get us confused. They did anyway. The theory was: mom was Danish and dad Scottish, so give my sister a Danish ancestor's name, and me a Scottish name. Dad still calls me Heather, and everyone else calls me Phoenix. Some people think it is putting on airs, but they don't know my life, or me. I have every right to change my name if I want to, and most people don't call others by their names anyway...so what's the fuss? The world really is a wierd place full of Dodobirds and hookah-puffing caterpillars. My mom used to say: "That guy is a real Dodobird!", meaning he is a dinosaur, and should be extinct with his out-dated and ludicrous beliefs in how the world should work.
I bet I could read "Alice in Wonderland" and find everyone of those characters in my life. Let's see...who would the Chesire Cat be? Mom! The White Rabbit? Dad. The caterpillar? I have some ideas... Tweedledee and Tweedledum? My ego and superego. The Mad Hatter? Yogi Bhajan. And I'm Alice trying to realize that I can be whatever and whoever I want to be.
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