Almost 2 decades ago, I walked into a computer lab on the first day of college, tasked with creating my first email address. All of the creative juices in my brain dried up, and I couldn’t think of a thing to name myself.
My mother had always called me “Weetah” and both of my uncles somehow called me “Lisabug.” Even though I hated the “Weetah” and barely tolerated the “Lisabug,” Regardless, it was all I could think of and that day, weetahbug@ was born.
20 years and several gmail addresses later, I still can’t get rid of the bug. Its gotten me plenty of job interviews, when I was a freelancer, because people wanted to know what a weetahbug was. I had a beau buy me a $100 “Pimpcup” that said WEETAHBUG in blinged out rhinestones. At least 3 times a year, someone sends me a link or a newspaper clipping about the Giant Weta Bug of New Zealand.
I’ve come to peace with it. I am weetahbug, and weetahbug is me… I guess?