However, I’m a Rachel. There have been many Rebeccas in my life, and not one has been my sister. However, in every class (and there have been MANY), job, and a number of social situations in my nearly 30 years on this planet, I’ve been mistakenly called Rebecca. Could it just be that most people only have enough room in their brains for one Hebrew girl’s name that starts with R?

There isn’t really a point to this post, just something I felt the need to ramble about for a few minutes while trying to remember the post I was writing in my head last night in bed. Laid up with one hell of a migraine, sleep was intermittent, punctuated by wishes (I kept waking up at 11 after the hour, and I figured it can’t just work on the hours of 11), freaky David Bowie dreams, and brief flashes of creativity. Maybe I should use air quotes around that word, since I’m not so sure how creative it is to post links to pictures of three recent crushes on dudes in some form of the public eye and be all “chicken or the egg” about them. Not very, I think.

Now that I’m (mostly) awake, maybe I’ll figure out some way to make that post interesting. Expect references to the TV show Fame. And possibly Scotch.