When I was a little girl, or should I say, starting from when I was a little girl, my dad started calling me, “my alli.” Its cute and adorable and is still, still, my favourite way of being addressed in a pet name kind of way. Boyfriends have adopted it, mostly because I insist to not be called things like “sweetheart” or “honey.” It makes me feel a bit silly. I’ll take “baby” or “babe,” but, sparingly, of course. Okay, so I’m not that girly. As least superficially. Anyone who has ever dated me, I am sure, can allege that I can be very very, uh, girly. And not in the good way, in the over-analyze-everything-and-want-to-talk kind of way.

Why am I explaining all of this? Oh, because it relates to my Internet obsession. I have a lot of time at work to pretend to be busy, and, this leads to all kinds of discoveries. Discoveries like a website called: www.myalli.com. Seriously. What are the chances? And no comments on how exactly I found this site. I google my name almost daily.

I’m thinking about asking for royalties. Unfortunately, though I always intended to, somehow I didn’t end up copyrighting my name. Just like i didn’t end up patenting my sleeping bag with a built in air mattress (damn you MEC!). So I don’t think I have much of a case. Of course, I’m not too upset, seeing as how seeing my name splattered on the web page brought at least eight minutes of hysterical giggling. Its even in rainbow lettering. I’m not sure I could have done this site any better if I had done it myself. The site does have a certain note of ominous-ness. I mean, I am pretty sure that I’m asking for you soul, signed in a contract of blood. I offer the following evidence:

Okay, I lied. At least twelve minutes of giggling.