1)Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation.
2) Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.
3)This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship.
(1) I already know how to pronounce it real fast.
(2) Trolling all authorities that would have to fit that into any kind of ID card or driver’s license, and will have to make sure to write it correctly.
(3) General feelings of spite and seething hatred towards my neighbor in a generic sense.
It has lots of nicknames. I think I’d go with Maggie, but I could have subsets who called me other things. … call me Margaret at work, Maggie at home, Peggy by the women in my book club, etc.
Lots of songs with my name in it. The Stampeders have a song with my real name ( and jsgoddess’) in it telling us to wake up. I would feel sad if my new name did not also have a wake up song.