My Name (goes on a rant)

I write a little thingy about my name for my Creative Writing class.  Steal Me Not.  Enjoy!

My name is Kayleigh McKay. 

            Urban Dictionary says that the name “Kayleigh” or rather, that spelling of it, was made popular by a band named Marillion.  Their song "Kayleigh" is about a guy who misses his old girlfriend, Kayleigh. 

 

            A few years ago, my dad admitted that the reason he named me “Kayleigh” is because he liked that song so much.  Fair enough.  It is his style anyways—he likes classic, soft stuff—no Metallica for him.  Stuff like U2, like Sting (who I always thought was a member of KISS for the longest time). 

 It sounds like a KISS name....kind of

            It’s not a bad song, but it made me monstrously sad when I first listened to it.  I had, at the time, an old boyfriend that I wanted very much to miss me.  I’ve only listened to it a couple times since then, because I don’t like being sad.  The song makes no mention of whether or not Kayleigh misses him back, but I can tell you, she does.

            Urban Dictionary also tells me that people say I’m “lovely”, “ditzy” and have “eyes the size of a bush baby” which means very big. 

‘Big eyes’ is pretty true, maybe only because I do good eye-makeup every morning.
 haha, yeah I wish!

            I cannot speak to “lovely” though my dad would probably say I am—but that’s his job.  That ex-boyfriend of mine may have said “lovely” while we were dating, I don’t remember.

            “Ditzy” however, is perfect.  If someone—like my mother—gives me a list of things to do, I will do the first one or two of those things and completely and honestly forget about the rest.  It drives her crazy, but that’s why I always tell her to make a list.  Sometimes when I’m driving, I get all frazzled and forget simple stuff, like I can’t turn left on a red light at an intersection…especially when there is oncoming traffic.

            That’s why I failed my road test.
 don't do it, kids

            Other entries try to tell me that I’m a petite athlete, which is nonsense.  It’s impossible to be petite when you’re 5’8”.  It’s impossible to be an athlete when your favorite activity is curling up into a ball underneath a mountain of blankets, snuggling with an oversized teddy bear, and taking a nap.

            Still another entry says I have a big heart, which is a phrase both my parents and I have used to describe me.  I’m very forgiving of people, and I understand them and like to listen to them.  Sometimes I push myself aside for other people—I feel that it’s my job to help people.

            But sometimes I get sick of it.  And then I feel guilty for not helping someone who needs it. 

            Like that guy I’ve never met in person, that guy who talked to me and met me over Skype for only a few hours before deciding he was in love with me.  He had some serious problems, one of which was deciding it was okay to be legitimately in love with someone you barely know. 

            I felt bad, and I didn’t really know the extent of the crazies from which he was suffering, so that incident became a few weeks long before I put my foot down.  No, I’m sorry—I don’t have time to talk to you for hours on end every day.  I have things to do, things I would rather do than listen to you beg me for this or that.  The help you need isn’t going to come from me.  Sorry.

            And I am sorry, but also tremendously relieved.

            The name “Kayleigh” or “Ceilidh”, in Gaelic, is the word for a social gathering—a dance. 
 and a jolly good time!

 Kind of like the Scottish version of a hoedown, but with better music and less redneck.  “Ceilidh” is also the name of my paternal grandparent’s sailboat.

            It used to have an eye and half a smile painted on either side of the bow, and I remember seeing that when they came up the Eerie Canal to a town near mine for a visit.  I was probably about 6, or 7.

            I bragged to some stranger, some random lady, how the boat was named after me, and it was happy about it—look!  It’s smiling.

            It’s a nice boat, although the smiley face got painted over years ago.  I’d like to live on a boat like that for a while, it’d be fun.  Perhaps a bit claustrophobic, but no worse than the dorm room I’m in now.

            All in all, I was surprised how well that website knows me.