People aren't usually comfortable saying my last name out loud. They feel nervous they might mess it up, and odds are they will. It's pronounced exactly how it's spelled, but the "z" is scary and the "bach" is unfamiliar and no one understands why it's missing a second "n." Because isn't it Dinzenbach? No, it's not.

There are a few people who defy fear and just say it. My friend Josh from college. My middle school soccer coach. Leo's dad. Lin the laundry man. Both brothers Martignetti. And now this guy I just met whose name is not Alejandro.

But I wanted it to be Alejandro and asked him if I could call him Alejandro, which is totally bizarre and borderline incorrigible; but for some reason (probably the eyes), he conceded. I was too lazy to type Alejandro, and while I could have entered his real, slightly shorter, name, I wrote Aj. With a small "J" since it's not actually an initial name.

I wondered if Aj was going to call me, but not for long because I was extremely sick and consequently extremely busy. So when I looked at my phone and saw a call from Aj, I thought Who the hell is Aj? AJ Otto. AJ Krane. No, that's JJ Krane. AJ my seven-year-old cousin. He has a cell phone? I call my best friend AJ. Did I change her number in my phone for some reason? Well, the Aj didn't leave a message, so I couldn't actually be sure. And I have to frequently delete all of my text messages for another reason not actually worthy of blogging about (and if I sound at all bitter, it's because I am); so I couldn't use previous sms communication. Now had he left a message... So I just called the person back. Well what do you know? It was Alejandro who name is not Alejandro but is apparently Aj, which cracks me up. I have him saved as Aj. He has me saved as Emma Dinzebach. He talked a lot more than most guys do on the phone. Then again I've only recently been talking to this one guy who makes me so nervous that I don't shut up.

Imagine that.  

That's pretty much all because it was just a phone conversation during which I looked a check my grandmother gave me for my birthday (which is on Monday, August 30th) and noticed my dad's name has been added to her checking account. And then I wondered Can he hook me up? And then I wondered What will my dad get me for my birthday? I should go online and pick something out. Aj was talking while I was shopping for thigh high boots. Since I'm a sort-of-psychologist, I quickly recognized that the situation had become weirdly Freudian and said, "You should go!"

And he said something like, "We haven't known each other long enough for you to tell me what to do." (Which in all honesty sounds like something I would say.) Then chided, "What did you think, I was so enthralled by our conversation I was going to forget all together to go to my friend's?" I didn't know what to say to that because A. He stole my "Don't tell me what to do." line, and everyone knows that whoever uses that line first gets to keep it & B. Had he worded it differently (i.e. taken out the "what did you think"), it could have been rather sweet. So I said, "I'm sorry." He laughed. I wasn't sure why.

Then I realized I was totally not being myself because I'm not sorry for anything except that I said I'm sorry and that the pair of boots I really want are $1,700, and my dad will not buy those for me in this lifetime. Too many Canadians are making me sorry, which is disguising itself in consideration. I'm not sure it's doing me much good because I'm not getting reciprocated consideration. Oh, but from a different situation entirely.

Now I've certainly said too much.

Imagine that.

Emma Dinzebach