About my name
I introduce myself. “I’m Andira.” That’s usually enough. But once in awhile, like today, some ass, thinking they’re clever, has to add, “Oh, just one name, like Madonna or Beyonce?” Yeah. Just like that. Asshole.
Online, one name doesn’t matter. Maybe people think it’s an alias. I don’t know. In college, I did use an alias when partying - another story. In real life, I’ve never encountered another Andira.
The closest town has about 1,000 people. People with normal names. Having a conversation piece for a name sometimes gets old. Often, I get interrupted before getting out my last name–”What an interesting name!” “How do you spell that?” “What does it mean?”
Sometimes I make shit up: It means ‘beautiful butterfly’ in Japanese or ‘wise fairy’ in Sanskrit or ‘riddle of sneezes’ in Pig Latin. With correct deadpan delivery, I am often mistaken for being serious. (My parents made up my name, taking letters from family members’ names. Damn filthy hippies, saddling me with a beautiful mess. So it means ‘one should not name children while high.’)
It’s pronounced ‘ann DIE ruh,’ by the way. Nice to meet you.