It occurred to me the other day that it not might be immediately obvious why The Besst Project is called what it is. I keep thinking that the only people reading this thing are my mother and my closest friends, and that is not so much the case anymore.
It has been observed by people who know me that there is no such thing as a simple question. Rather, there IS such a thing as a simple question, but I am incapable of giving a simple answer.
Ask me about the weather outside, and you just might wind up listening to me ramble on about how the Taj Mahal was meant to have a twin edifice made out of black marble built opposite. (That same weather conversation led to the discovery that the ‘twin edifice’ is a myth. I’m not even always accurate when I ramble. Kudos to the guy who listened to me gas on and didn’t grimace, not even once.)
So the discussion of names for me can get lengthy. I’ve written at great length about my last name, and if you want to know about that whole ‘Besst’ thing, well, here it is.
So the name ‘The Besst Project’ is more of a pun than an endorsement.
Two other things:
1. if you want to read something really hilarious, check out Elizabeth Becton, who is the patron saint of Don’t Call Me Liz. If the link ever fails, just google her name and you will open up a whole can of crazy. Even I am not that nuts, which is evidenced by…
2. In the discussion of my first name, you’ll note that there is one person who kept nicknaming me incorrectly and I never begrudged him a minute of it. There is another person on that list now, a person I’ve worked with for a few years who is just the dearest soul and who completely spaced the whole ‘my closest friends and family’ story. I don’t even wince when he does it, because he’s just that good.
© E. Stocking Evans 2014
Mom, Interrupted 