I remember someone calling my sister Molly Moo Cow when she was in third grade. She wasn't, and still isn't, covered in black spots. She's not even a cow and the only dairy product she eats is yogurt. You know… that fat free late-for-school crap that probably burns more calories just to open? Eat a bagel, people.
Molly didn't like this nickname. I thought the name had potential, but that probably had to do with my tendency to make animal noises at a young age.
As we grew older, more nicknames began to develop. During this time, I began to realize patterns amongst nicknames, formulas if you will (and I will). Starting with the simplest of methods:
Association by Habit: Let's say Little Tommy is very ticklish. Before you know it, Tommy Tickles is born. Butterfingerz Bob, Frisky Freddie, Cookie Monster… you get it.
Big Tuna: If you are tall or big-boned, take the first letter of your first name and add a "Big." In some cases, the last name can be abbreviated. In my case, Big Jorgy would be appropriate, but incredibly annoying and unoriginal.
Big Sexy: This is more a subspecies of the Big Tuna formula. If I had a nickel for the amount of people called Big Sexy, I could buy a better nickname from the Jersey Shore cast.
Happy Hannah: Remember that one camp at that one place where you played the name game? "We're going to learn names by putting adjectives in front of them," said the counselor, "for instance, I'm Happy Hannah!" Happy Hannah then beamed happily at everyone, who all stared back rather sadly. At student council camp in Emporia, Kan. (wait… where?), Delightful Danny took my adjective. And so, Danger Dave was born. Which isn't all that bad. Lightyears better than Monkey Matt.
So-and-so's boyfriend: Hey look, it's Ali's boyfriend! What's his name? You know, the one that stalks his girlfriend? Does it matter? Sure, it matters, but you'll never know his name.
Pet names: Studmuffin, Boo, Bumblebee, Honey Bunches of Oats with Peaches…. I know you're out there. But stop saying them in public.
Facebook Middle Names: Students at my high school insisted on bestowing new middle names upon themselves. These weren't just names, but sentences. I don't see this trend catching on a DePauw, but if you ever change your name to Jerry "too-legit-to-quit" Johnson, or my personal favorite, Jack "tweeknmane-la-flair" Rollins, I will unfriend you faster than you can say Jermaine "McHeartbreak" Winsby.*
*These names have been changed for the individuals' protection from the outside world, and the world's protection from them.
Nicknames either live or die for good at college. When I'm in a jollier, boulder-run type mood, I tend to call myself Danger Dave. Otherwise, the name is extinct. Another sister of mine (who also is not a cow) had a friend in college, who after a terrific diet plan is no longer the hefty 300+ pounds he used to be. Yet, he still goes by "Big Sexy."
I guess I wanted to point out that nicknames are completely ridiculous and rarely mean anything. But somehow, they seem to stick. So if you leave DePauw with the name "Vomit Veronica" or "Sloppy Seconds," you probably did something wrong. Don't say I didn't warn you. Also, if you want to refer to me as "Big Sexy," I won't be opposed.
— Jorgenson is a sophomore from Shawnee, Kan., majoring in English writing and film studies. opinion@thedepauw.com