When I was born I was given a singularly impossible name.
'Islay' is an uncommon spelling of a reasonable popular Scottish name - odd, given that it's the older spelling, specifically linking the name to the Hebridean island it comes from.
(Islay is Gaelic for 'island', btdubs. Imaginative naming thar, people who first discovered the island of Islay off the west coast of Scotland...)
You'd think, given that I'm Scottish and grew up there, that pronunciation wouldn't be an issue, but, maybe because I grew up in Edinburgh on the East coast, maybe because we Scots genuinely are that ignorant of our own geography, I've met maybe five people, in my entire life, who have been able to pronounce 'Islay' off the page, or who have spelled it correctly without me needing to point out at least one of the silent letters. There are far more people who simply never, ever get it. I once went an entire year at school as 'Eye-lee' to a maths teacher because I gave up correcting him after the first six months. I've been Izz-la, Izz-lay, Eye-lay, Izz-lee and once, bafflingly, Ez-may.
For the record, it's Eye-luh. Exactly the same pronounciation of that lesser variant, 'Isla'. We Islay's-with-a-y just make you work harder for it.
'Islay' was bestowed on me by Jan and Colin, two people with names so unremarkable that they clearly had no idea what they were burdening me with when they decided to give me a name that most people cannot spell when they hear it, cannot pronounce when they read it, and doesn't shorten to anything.
Try. There is no nickname for 'Islay'.
Except the one I was given as a toddler - and to this day there are a minor handful of people who knew me between the ages of zero and three, who call me 'Miss Isles'. Like the weapon, and like a singularly stubborn, uncontrollable preschooler with a penchant for wanting to drive her own buggy into ponds, people, public waterways and oncoming traffic.
Since my vaguely suicidal toddlerhood, a great number of things have happened to me, of course, and I find myself stumbling into my mid-twenties without much more idea of where I'm going than I had when I was rambling along pushing my own buggy before I was tall enough to see over the top of it. But I've a suspicion I should figure it out at some point and to that end I've put together a list of things that are, by and large, applicable:
1. Feminist
2. Queer
3. Writer (freelance; screenplays; short stories)
4. Quaker (liberal)
5. Punk (straight edge)
6. Knitter
7. Baker
8. Sugar addict
9. Caffeine fiend
10. Shark (occasionally)
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