Find Your Lesbian Name

Coffee StonyLizard

Cat StrongChild

Tree NightWaters

Onyx RoundSpinster

Sycamore Tofu

These are all examples of lesbian names generated from the crafty site listed above. To find YOUR lesbian name, click on the title to this post listed above, type in your name, and then click the button to be told your SisterName. What is your lesbian name? The other option is to choose a lesbian name by continually clicking the button. Be forewarned. Reading the names is addictive.

In my liberal arts school, Antioch College, I was sitting in my Biopsychology class, and the teacher, Jo, asked us to go around the room and introduce ourselves since it was the first day of class. She didn't specifically tell us to state our name but instead said that we should say whatever we liked to be called. I listened to some of the other names: Jade, Izmoon, Cedar, Turtle, and the most notable one, MountainPeaks. Soon enough it was my turn, and without a moment's hesitation, I said, "Hi, I'm Milkweed." I barely knew the word "Milkweed" existed and certainly didn't know what it was, yet suddenly it was me! The class, including Prof Jo, nodded with dull acknowledgement. Henceforth, I had a nickname, one that worked for a hippy, Nowhere-Ohio campus. It caught on with some and not with others. However, it did teach me the value in an alias.

One Saturday night, my friend Alice and I were bored and so we took some Ramen noodles out of the free box in the student union. We put on cook uniforms that Alice had kept from a previous job and dumped the packets into a kettle to brew. Alice is a talented cook and added spices to make them smell and taste superb. Next we carried the steaming pot around the small campus, talking in what we called "short-order cook voices." Our favorite line to say was, "C'mon. Have some! Good noodles are like good women; they go down easy and expand in the belly!" Of course, that line is offensive and makes no sense but it caught on and still delights Alice and me to this day! Our peers were drinking, smoking, laughing, and opening wide for large, wooden spoonfuls of noodles. It became late, and the campus became quiet and empty. Yet we still had too many noodles. We lugged the heavy kettle around in an overstimulated confusion, our accents waning.

Then we came across the locked door of the Boneyard Boys Club. This club had been a thorn in Alice's and my side since its inception. It was started by a man who is now in major legal trouble for holding a gun at a nurse who wouldn't give him pills. The goal of this misogynist boys club was "the preservation of machismo." The feminist values of the campus just weren't of interest to these fellows. They were more focused on killing and eating goats, drinking beer to excess, and denigrating the wimmin of the campus. Alice and I were ready for some guerrilla girl action. Spontaneously we flung a few noodles at the door. Unfortunately, they stuck, making us laugh, and so we flung more and more. We became vandals, and while no one saw us throwing the noodles, there were only two goofy girls feeding the campus noodles that night. Trouble was inevitable.

Alice and I retired to our respective dorm rooms, only I decided to get in my car and leave town for the night. I wasn't ready for the fall-out and preferred to spend Sunday with my family in the nearby suburbs of Cincinnati. How surprised Alice was when just before dawn a policeman banged on her door requesting that she open up! She stumbled out of bed in her jammies and was yelled at by a local cop who told her she had been reported for vandalizing school property. And one more thing, they wanted to know, "Who and where is Milkweed?" I hadn't even told Alice that I was in Cincinnati, and yet though I'd sold her up a creek, she was kind enough not to provide my real name.

To make a long story short, the police had bigger fish to fry than an investigation into finding out who Milkweed was. Alice and I were given a slap on the wrist by the dean, a clean-up of said noodles and a public apology in the college newspaper, the latter of which contained sarcastic lines such as "We NOW understand how what we did made you feel violated." N.O.W. is, of course, the National Organization of Women. Alice and I hooted over our clever pun!

Have you ever had a nickname?