I’m logging in for a brief moment to say “Hi” - *waves hi to everyone* and to vent.  I need to get this off of my chest… errrr… my ENORMOUS cleavage:

DON’T CALL ME JANET!

I hate it when people get my name wrong.  The only other thing that crawls under my skin as much as getting my name wrong is laziness.  My name is Janice – not Denise, Shannon, Jane or Janet. I particularly hate being called Janet.  I can handle it if you spell my name wrong – that’s an honest mistake.  Janice/Janis what’s the difference?  You knew my name and that’s what matters.

But calling me Janet?  That means you weren’t listening – you were hearing, but you certainly weren’t paying attention.  It’s like calling Mike, Mark, or calling Tim, Tom. 

My dad’s sister is Janet.  Before I got married, if people called me Janet, I would respond, “Janet xxxx” is my aunt.”  ‘Cause that’s the truth – she’s my aunt.  We shared a last name, but not a first name.  I have nothing against my aunt, she’s an incredible lady – I just want to be unique, different, an individual.

Got that? 

I am JANICE – hear me…ummm.. roar? Nah – hear me VENT!