Bitch on the Blog

September 6, 2016


Filed under: Amusement,Family,Formalities,Psychology — bitchontheblog @ 16:01
Tags: ,

By way of taking our minds off weighty issues:

How do you feel when you meet a namesake?



  1. Thrilled. I have also met a doppelganger. I was thrilled as he was too.

    Comment by rummuser — September 6, 2016 @ 16:46 | Reply

    • My dear Ramana, as befits your general temperament, I had an inkling you may say “thrilled”. How “common” is your name? A thrill at every corner?

      “Doppelgaenger”? Oh my god. I yet have to met mine – other than looking into the mirror in the morning. I’d probably freak out. What happened to you and your Doppelgaenger? Did he recognize you as you did him? Did you become friends or decided best to flee into opposite directions before Urmeela mistook him for the real thing? The latter not to be laughed off. It happened in an Italian novella. Mind you, it was dark. As excuses go it’s a bad one.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — September 6, 2016 @ 17:24 | Reply

      • Ramana is not a common name. So, it is rare to come across someone with that name. My dopelganger was as stunned as I was but the meeting was brief as it took place at an airport just before we were to board the plane. I cracked a joke that my father was known to be a colourful fellow and before the impact of that hit him, we separated.

        Comment by rummuser — September 7, 2016 @ 16:17 | Reply

        • Brilliant vignette, Ramana. Ramana, the not so “common”. Good on your parents.


          Comment by bitchontheblog — September 7, 2016 @ 22:20 | Reply

  2. I ususally think , “Not another one.”

    As for “Doppelgaengers”…. have met a few and been told about others. Have had fun confusing pupils in one case… and have heard the comment, “I always said your father had a bike.”….. maybe my grandfather though.

    Comment by magpie11 — September 6, 2016 @ 18:35 | Reply

    • “… your father had a bike”. I shouldn’t laugh but can’t help it. That is such a sweet expression. They don’t do them like that anymore.

      The closest I have come to a Doppelgaenger when someone (at least twice my age, ie ancient, I was only seventeen or so) told me I reminded them of their cousin (who, incidentally, had also been his first love). He was very good about it; just looked at me wistfully once in a while and sighed.

      I do like your first name. It’s also the very one (maybe because I know so many) where I never associate the name with anyone in particular. IE each of you are your own version of it. Come to think of it I am godmother to my sister’s first born. She babysat for our vicar.when she was about twelve and totally smitten (both with the vicar and his baby son) and swore that she too would name her first son David. And she did.

      Yes, Magpie, what’s in a name? Treasure?


      Comment by bitchontheblog — September 7, 2016 @ 03:44 | Reply

      • Have just remebered…. a “friend” from Canada, on facebook reminded me of an ex pupil who emigrated thence many years ago…. I came a cross a school photo of said pupil and “posted” it to said “friend” who had the shock of her life…… meeting or seeing Doppelgaengers can be disconcerting….

        Talking of disconcerting: Seeing a complete stranger on the bus or tube, catching her eye (or vice versa) and “knowing” that person and feeling a lurc of adrenalin in the stomach is also disconcerting.

        Comment by magpie11 — September 7, 2016 @ 11:05 | Reply

        • Oh my god, David. I sure can relate to “disconcerting”. The first of what you describe I remember was on some ferry sailing from the port of Piraeus (Athens). I was with my freshly baked boyfriend (later known as FOS) when my gaze fell upon a lone traveller. Roughly my age. The eyes, David, the eyes. Ours locked. Not for long. A few seconds. Just long enough to remember a magic moment to this day.

          One of the more recent when, a few years ago, on a busy Saturday morning, I left Boots (of all places) and this guy leaning on a railing opposite the shop entrance came into my vision. Again. Eyes.Talk about chemistry. Magnetism. A moment of recognition. Intimate, yet all over in a flash. A delicious memory.

          And then there was … tragedy. Still, seeing him every day during an awful three months doing one of the strangest jobs in my life made the day not only more bearable, but saw me through the assignment. Guess what. First time we met, OUR EYES LOCKED. A door opened. He was at my feet. Literally. Something to do with logistics and what he was doing that moment. Half an hour later, during induction, it turned out he was MR BIG, THE BOSS. His first day too. Drawn to each other (see above) like magnets. Part of the magic that we didn’t act on it. We silently acknowledged it for what it was, had an unspoken understanding to keep the distance, enjoyed the frisson. One of the best non-relationships I have ever had. Remember him with great fondness.


          Comment by bitchontheblog — September 7, 2016 @ 22:32 | Reply

  3. My surname is totally uncommon – as it a combination created name by me… I’ve had people tell me that I look like xyz person but I’ve never come upon them…some of my rellies and I apparently look similar. But I’ve not really felt that is the case…

    One of my sisters after she was married (living in the UK) – found that she later had the exact same first/surname name as a British actress…(that sister is now deceased)

    Comment by cedar51 — September 6, 2016 @ 23:52 | Reply

    • Yes, but but but but, Catherine. Surnames are a different kettle of fish, your first name chosen by your parents (or, in my case, by my grandmother who registered my birth). Surnames? They have far greater potential to change over a lifetime – mainly for women, obviously. I am not the marrying kind but did ask Gay Guy for his slender hand because I absolutely adored his double-barrelled name. We’d have been a match made in heaven. Thousands of miles between us and in name only. What more can you ask for? It was not to be.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — September 7, 2016 @ 04:00 | Reply

  4. Everyone who lives in California is constitutionally required to be unique, whether or not we the share the same name with someone else. This is especially helpful for those whose name is Mohammad.

    Comment by Looney — September 7, 2016 @ 03:49 | Reply

    • Well, my dear Looney, you are beginning to reveal sides to you which most certainly make me laugh – in a good way.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — September 7, 2016 @ 22:18 | Reply

  5. Irritated. Especially if some charming, easy going soul suggests that one of us takes a variation of MY first name so that they can tell us apart.

    Comment by Scarlet — September 7, 2016 @ 12:16 | Reply

    • I feel your pain, Scarlet. In the motherland plus Switzerland plus Austria Ursulas of my generation and before come a dime to the dozen. The mutations of the name are many, varied and generally questionable. The only endearing one to me was Gay Guy charmingly calling me “Urse” (rhymes with curse). Curse, I ask you. Everyone else calls me Ursula, Sunshine or, in one case, Mama.

      As an aside: The Anglo (American) affliction, not to say affectation, being that names tend to get shortened. There are people out there who love me purely because I insist on calling them Jonathan instead of Jon, David instead of Dave, Jessica instead of Jess. Even the Queen I call Elizabeth, not Betty or Lizzy.

      So, Ms Scarlet, do not be surprised if people address you as Red (colour), O’Hara or Vivien Leigh. Unless, of course, you are a pawn in the game Cluedo. In which case don’t go to the library. You may stumble across a candle stick.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — September 7, 2016 @ 22:15 | Reply

      • Thank you for that small consideration… I loathe being called Dave… or rather Daaaave……

        Comment by magpie11 — September 7, 2016 @ 22:32 | Reply

  6. I’ve never met a namesake. Or a lookalike. Or anyone with the same birthday. Sorry about that.

    Comment by nick — September 7, 2016 @ 21:26 | Reply

    • I am very happy for the Doppelgaenger you haven’t met (yet). Insert o).

      However, you can’t tell me that no other Nicks have crossed your path. They are everywhere. Even my father’s first name is a derivative of Nickolas.

      When is your birthday? I’d hate to miss it. In the name of privacy do email it to me. And what do you know, maybe you and I share the same. Wouldn’t that be a laugh? Oh the horror of it.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — September 7, 2016 @ 22:16 | Reply

      • We had three of us in the same staffroom with birthdays on the same day…. not the same d.o.b mind you.

        Comment by magpie11 — September 7, 2016 @ 22:34 | Reply

      • Sure, plenty of Nicks, but none with the same last name. My birthday is March 20.

        Comment by nick — September 9, 2016 @ 11:13 | Reply

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