Thursday, April 30, 2009

The Name Game

In this little bloggy world of ours I understand that many of us have a desire and even outright need to maintain some kind of anonymity. Very few give their full names, or even the towns they live in. I'm okay with that, and think it is probably very wise, what with all the weirdos, wackos and cyber stalkers that are out there these days.
Therefore, I'm fine with you all having my first name, but unless I know you I'm not putting the rest out there (unless you're inviting me to some really groovy party like PW had recently, or I'm inviting you to come visit my bomb shelter or something). And because of same, I have been calling the Mister "the Hubs". I don't really like that title, but it's all I could come up with on short notice. I have decided he needs a new name.

So here's some background.
Before I knew the Hubs, I was working, working, drawing a little, working, and playing in a Celtic band. No, really. I played this and sang. We called ourselves Free Whiskey. We were...fantastic terrible sometimes good, sometimes okay, often erratic. We had the occasional gig and also got together to play at a little Irish pub on Tuesday nights with other local Celtic musicians. (I no longer play with them due to the fact that they are a bunch of flakes conflicting personalities schedules.)
Hubs and a couple of his friends started hanging out there after their usual Tuesday night haunt started sucking. I did not know him at all at that point.

One night some guy at the bar
bought a round of drinks for the "band" (20 odd [in every sense of the word] musicians). Huzzah!
A couple weeks later that same guy bought another round for the "band". Huzzah again!
This started to become a habit with him. (I have since been informed that it was because he liked the "cute blonde drummer".)
We just thought he was some nice, rich strange guy
stranger (and if he was acting like he was rich, he isn't anymore because he has a life wife now).
Eventually I decided someone needed to thank the guy for all the booze. I somehow got shoved toward the bar nominated.
Not being particularly shy I wandered over and struck up a conversation with him.
He was a little shy, but he seemed nice. He was funny. He was smart. I still, at that point, knew very little about him except he worked for a government contractor and did not talk about his job. It kind of became a little joke with my friends and I that he was some kind of hit man for the government or a spy.
I later commented to my friends that he seemed nice and it was too bad he didn't have a girlfriend. They all looked at me like I was some kind of idiot at which point I decided I probably was so I went over and talked to him some more and eventually asked him out for a beer. He surprised us both by saying yes.
The rest is, as they say, history. We dated 8 months and 23 days and then got married.

So on with the story.
Hubs, for the record, is not a hit man. He is not a spy. However, he does indeed work for a government contractor and is not really allowed to talk much about his job. What little I do know I'd rather not know (lets just say the terrorists are real, folks, and they really do want to kill us all and we'd better stop listening to the idiots that run this country and start paying attention to what's going on around the world. But I digress.)
My friends still joke that he is a spy, however, even though they know better, partly because a couple years ago the local piece-of-shit-not-even-fit-to-line-a-birdcage newspaper did a story about the black ops compound facility where he works and stated people have seen black helicopters and other strange goings on out there. (Probably because there are a lot of pot farmers out there, is my opinion.) And just yesterday a guy I work with called him "Mr. CIA". Hubs did not think that was funny. I, however, thought it was hilarious.
In any event, I spent some time thinking about it. Pioneer Woman has her "Marlboro Man" or MM. Midlife Slices has her HBL or "Hunka Burning Love". Smart Mouthed Broad has her Harley Stud. And so on.

Anyway, I decided I like that everyone thinks the Hubs is a spy. (Which make me Mrs. Spy!) So henceforth, Hubs will be known as "Secret Agent Man" or SAM, for short. It's a new witness relocation or something.


  1. SAM, it works. Or you could try giving him a Bond-y first initial name like Q or M.

  2. What a totally absorbing, fascinating and hilarious blog! You made my morning by making me laugh outloud. The cats and my husband are looking at me like I'm nut.s But they aren't far from the truth.

    I love your racious writing style. You are wonderful!

  3. We all stay anonymous because we do not want fired from our day jobs.

    Plus, this way we can blog about people we know without them knowing!!!

    How did Michel and Captain dumbass find you? BE VERY CAREFUL!!!

  4. I love it! SAM, it is. Very mysterious. BTW you are GORGEOUS! And I hate you. LOL

  5. I'm lucky in that I don't think most of the people I work with blog, read blogs, or even know what a blog is. Phew!
    And "SAM" has decided he likes the new moniker. I like it better than his suggestion, which was TFG for "Token Fat Guy" !

  6. Is that really gorgeous you?

    I don't have a name for my husband. Husband. That's his name. I wonder what I would fake name him, if pressed.

  7. ...that was me - 6 years, a pair of bifocals and 30 lbs ago!
    I'm trying to get back there...unfortunately I love to cook, and the treadmill? Not so much.

  8. SAM is perfect! Well, the name is perfect. I don't know the guy, but if he loves you then he's probably perfect. I agree with every ARE beautiful on the outside, but I already knew you were on the inside.

    Oh, and thanks for the linky love.
    p.s. Have you started working on that pendant jewelry yet?? I'm going to bug you until you do and remember I'll be your first customer and you know exactly what picture I want in my pendant. :) I'll just sit here and drum my fingers......and wait.

  9. I know, I know! I'm working on it...I've had some technical difficulty with my glue and have to go buy something else....sigh. I'll get there!


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