A Commoner By Any Other Name ...

Most of you are probably wondering about my blog title. I realise it sounds somewhat lofty and ambitious, but hey, I was always told by my mother to dream big and reach beyond even the stars. Sort of a perverse and somewhat sadistic recipe for disaster, I realise now in retrospect, because in nine instances out of ten, you are guaranteed to fall short of the mark.

The origin of my title finds its roots during my CEGEP days (those long lost halcyon days when you could go out clubbing and cram all in one night, and still look like a million bucks the next day when, hopefully, you passed your exam with flying colours). A friend, who shall remain nameless, (hint: once described himself as a cross between Dom Deluise and Michael J. Fox), during a wild card game -- well at least I'm assuming it was during a card game because that's how I spent the majority of my CEGEP days, when not cramming for exams or clubbing -- coined the term "Leather Goddess" in reference to me. Somehow, the name stuck and voila, a goddess (or, as he now likes to call me "Godd asse") was born. So okay, maybe it was something like an apprentice Goddess or a Goddess-in-waiting because truly, if I'd had to pick a Goddess to be, I wouldn't have picked a leather one. However, mortals can't be choosers ...

I'm still perplexed as to how Dom Fox came up with that name because the instances during which I've donned leather are far and few. In any event, within short order, the CEGEP crowd was paying homage to the Leather Goddess, and I settled quite nicely into my status, apprentice or otherwise.

As the years passed, there were very few people remaining in my life who remembered that I had once been a Goddess (guess my feet of clay gave it away). Certainly, none of the university profs who gave me shockingly low marks, realised nor cared that they were wrecking the Grade Point Average of a would-be deity.

Not very long ago, when signing up for a game site, I spontaneously typed in GoddessOfExotica as my username. Remember my earlier post entitled "The Morning After? Yup, so I lived to regret that one. Who knew the internet was rife with so many desperate and lonely heterosexual men and lesbian women? The brief shining moment of being referred to as "Goddess" by a seemingly adoring crowd was tarnished somewhat by the questions that often followed (Are you into golden showers? Do you want to come to Arkansas and have sex with me and a few of my incestuous brothers and sisters?)

It struck me then and there that maybe I was rolling a boulder uphill. Maybe Goddesses are born, and not made. And if made, certainly not self-made. I felt like the Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz probably did, upon his discovery that that the Wizard was a complete sham, and the ensuing painful realisation that he wasn't ever going to get a real brain. I always thought he must have felt ripped off when the Wizard awarded him with the consolation prize -- a university diploma. As if a mere piece of paper could rival the very real attribute of intelligence! (This despite the fact that I proudly tout B.Sc. on my business card so people will think that I am smart).

I realise now that my quest for Goddess-hood was a misguided one. It's not enough to have people call you a Goddess if the reality suggests otherwise. And you haven't really obtained true Goddess status if you're a self-dubbed one.

As my profile suggests, I am developmentally retarded in some respects. It took me thirty-seven years to figure out something that most of the Western hemisphere (with the exception of Madonna/Esther) knew all along.

So now all I have to do is find out which powers-that-be are in charge of bestowing Goddesshood upon people, and I'm good to go. As my father used to say, some businesses are tough to break into, unless you have the right connections.