you don't know me.

have you ever regretted telling someone your nickname? i don't mean "my name's michael, but everyone calls me mike." i mean more like "my name is michael, but everyone calls me [insert random nickname resulting from some event, feature, or dirty deed here]."

i go by many nicknames, but i prefer that people i don't know not use my nicknames. i think it's presumptive and a little arrogant to call someone you don't know by their nickname. if i ever came across michael jordan in person, i wouldn't be like "yo MJ! what up?!" i'd be like "hi mr. jordan!" world-class athletes aside, i think it's weird when someone who doesn't know the story or circumstance behind a nickname insists on calling you that. or worse yet, when someone hears your nickname and takes it upon themselves to start using it - without your blessing. that ish irks me.

case in point - during my first week at work, i made the mistake of responding to the "do you have any nicknames?" question asked by my coworkers. i chose to respond with the most universally-known and used one, "j9". little did i know this would basically become my name around the office, so that when those previously unfamiliar coworkers quickly became the thorns in my side, hearing my nickname turned into a form of pavlovian torture. i now cringe whenever i hear 'j9' during the day, because it's basically been bastardized at this point. for the older crowd, it makes them feel cool to say it and like they're down w/me. for the younger set, it makes them feel like we're much better friends than we actually are (except for one coworker, who really is my friend). but it also leads to annoying comments, such as an email today from one of my bosses that read "what does J9 stand for?" um... really? it's a letter and a number, not a complicated acronym with puncutation and such. another brilliant move is when someone has some crap assignment to pass along to me or tries to get out of doing something and they're like "J9 will do it!"

j9 will throw 'bows at you, mofo.

maybe it's just work-related? i'm not really sure. perhaps i consider nicknames best shared and used amongst family and friends, due to their familiar quality and personal nature.

malcontent.

so i just finished reading a few articles in the latest vogue and have come to the conclusion that i am a better writer than the broads they solicit to contribute soulless editorials and almost-funny features. the cover stories are generally pretty bland; usually little more than people magazine-type gushing laced w/detailed accounts of wardrobe, menu, and makeup choices. i feel like matt damon's character in good will hunting, when he goes off on the supposed brilliant minds in the field of physics - "do you know how easy this is?I this is a fucking joke." (slightly paraphrased, i'm sure.) but seriously... i mean, i know i don't know enough about fashion or society to write for a magazine like vogue, and i know it's not like i'm a published writer or anything... but there is very little writing out there that blows my mind - and we won't even get into female writers, who have gone past good and back to bad again (excepting joan didion).

anyway, i was so bored by vogue that i actually took to creating this little blog just to gripe about it. perhaps it is too much to ask that my fashion magazine of choice actually feature intriguing, sharp writing that doesn't sacrifice wit for readability. perhaps i am too much a cynic/skeptic and demand too much sarcasm and snideness in what i read before bed (might be time to get some more bukowski...) or perhaps it's time for me to just do something about it and write something that i actually would want to read. i think all scenarios are true, and in the spirit of practicing what i preach, i am going to start writing.

(btw, as i type, i am lounging in my p.e. shorts from junior high, designer unknown, and two plain white wifebeaters (hanes). a tattered, hideously printed sateen scarf is wrapped around my head, and my skin is almost greasy from a liberal application of cetaphil moisterizer.)