
The Cool Club.
This came up on my dashboard and I would like to tell you a story.
I was named after my two great grandmothers, Mary and Catherine. It was pretty. It’s still pretty. I love my name.
In elementary school, I befriended a girl named Ashley solely because my name is Mary Kate. Ashley could be a real bitch. I distinctly remember an argument over an incident involving me getting her a pencil, and then her freaking out because I gave her the one with the smaller eraser. I was prone to mistakes; I needed that extra two centimeters of eraser. Ashley was never wrong, so I still don’t get why she was so inclined to have that pencil. She would also boss me around a lot, which I loathed and would only end to more arguing. But we were best friends because of our names and she lived on the street next to mine and she had a pool.
I would go to summer camp and people would make jokes about my name. I mean, I’m sure that there were plenty of other things to make fun of me for because I was an oddball living in the suburbs, but I remember often being teased for my name.
Ashley moved to New Jersey in the fourth grade. It was a good thing. If she didn’t, I probably would have stuck a lollypop in her hair or punched her or something.
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sealeveled reblogged this from michellelynking and added:
This came up on my dashboard and I would like to tell you a story. I was named after my two great grandmothers, Mary and...
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