There are many things I have grown to love in my lifetime. The crisp chill of fall, the flavor of onions, a really good cry, and my name rank at the top of the list. It wasn't until I was of an adult age that I started to appreciate the joy these things can bring to a person's life. Of course, my name is unique to me and, therefore, wouldn't necessarily bring joy to anyone else. But I have come to appreciate it through the years.
My name is Brandy Rose. I get irrationally upset when complete strangers spell my name "Brandi"...I am especially outraged when good friends and even family members do it (and yes, they have). Part of me wishes that I could go back in time and have people call me by my first and middle name instead of just my first. Brandy Rose. It has such a nice ring to it. It conjurs up pictures of a southern woman sipping sweet tea on a wrap around porch. I'm not southern, I don't have a wrap around porch, and I've never had sweet tea but I want to be that woman.
Just for the fun of it, here is a picture of another "Brandy Rose":