My Name Piece

           
           "Well Sarah, you know it's not a very Jewish name," my grandmother said upon hearing what my parents had named me. Angela is a very Italian name and yes, I am in fact a Jewish girl. So my name and I, we don't connect culturally. That's okay. In Italian my name means "angel". Just imagine--someone being a complete angel? Well I don't know anyone who is. I like the way it sounds, the way the syllables roll off your tongue. My name feels like the color orange to me, or maybe something sweet, warm citrus-baked batter enfolded by a cool glaze.

         I don't understand how it's so hard to remember. My name is not "Andrea" or "Angelica". To new kids, my name is a twisted up yo-yo string, their face a knot of confusion when they try to approach it. At camp, it took Sophia, a girl in my cabin almost a week to get it straight. By the third day, she would still address me as "Andrea" or "I know, I know ittttt...".

         My nicknames are different. It started sitting doing homework with my friend one time a few years ago, when she told me she came up with a nickname for all of her friends. Using my last name Tanzer, I became "Tannerino." Soon the name was shortened into Tanner, expanded into Tanzy, Angie Tanzie and simply "Tanzer". To one of my friends I am "Angggee"and to others "Angie". Sometimes, it's a friendly tone, but sometimes, it's the stretched out, demanding "Annn-gee," of my irritated younger sister Katy. 

         I've always been the only Angela in my class, of the probably at most 3 in my school. It makes me feel unique and different, which I like. I wouldn't change my name if I had the choice, because my name is a star among many, although it may be pink next to some plain white.