"What's in a name? that which we call a rose,
By Any other name would smell as sweet?"
--- Romeo and Juliet
If names didn't matter, expecting parents wouldn't spend months researching and debating names.
Take my name for instance: Holly. It means a plant with red berries (that are poisonous). I'm sure my parents went ten rounds on which plant to name me after.
So, Holly by any other name would be just as poisonous? Awesome.
If it weren't for the Internet and social networking, I would agree with Juliet (on the value of a name only). For most of us, our birth names don't really represent the scope of who we are as people. But we didn't name ourselves and our parents name us before any sign of personality shows itself. At best, our birth names represent what our parents hope we'll become.
So, my parents wanted me to be poisonous. Awesome.
But on the Internet, when we set up email accounts, Twitter accounts, participate in online gaming, and dating profile we get to create a name that we think represents who we are. Therefore, my lovely and naive Juliet, a name does represent the scent of the rose. Or at least a person's willingness to take a whiff.
For example, my email involves a reference to vampires. I have had the address forever, back when I wanted to be seen as dark and dangerous because I thought it was sexy. I keep the email address out of pure laziness: it's just too much for me (see technology humor posts) to send out a mass message directing my friends and family to my new addy. And, if I want to be honest, I still hope that whomever I give it to will see its contrast to my physiognomy as mysterious. Edgy. Unconventional.
Sexy.
What usually happens now is that those to whom I give it regard me as kooky. Confused. Immature (even though I always explain that my vampiric address has "nothing to do with Twilight"). They laugh at my explanation--trying to sound humored by my wit--but really they are backing away, lowering their eyes, and quickly closing the conversation (or transaction).
Missed Periods has great posts about the value of a professional email address, so I'll move on to profile usernames.
Usernames that are known only to you--sure, unleash the inner adolescent. Sexy beast. Lunatic. Go ahead and register that "BoogerEater." "69forever." "BloodyPretzel." Hopefully, you won't have to call the IT support line and be forced to share it with a complete stranger.
But, with dating profiles, the inner adolescent, sexy beast, and lunatic needs to be harnessed. When potential mates are perusing their matches, they may look at every aspect of a profile before noting the specifics of the username. The problem arises when someone is notified via email that someone winked, smiled, emailed, or wants to meet you.
For example, I have received the following notifications:
"Clitlicker wants to meet you."
"Cocknorris just winked at you."
And my favorite, "Bigdaddypoopface is interested in you!"
And recently, I learned that I am a favorite of MrRightNow!69 and WalkingDeath.
Let's just say that I have no intention of being the dick-sucker to Clitlicker.
My vagina doesn't want to be anywhere near Cocknorris.
And I am certainly not interested in Bigdaddypoopface. I might be open-minded, but I'm not disgusting.
And MrRightNow!69 gives me performance anxiety.
Select. Delete. No viewing profiles. Clitlicker could be Gerard Butler, Cocknorris could be Vin Diesel, and Bigdaddypoopface could be George Clooney, but I will never know.
WalkingDeath? I guess I'll hit him up when I'm feeling suicidal or necrophiliactic.
Therefore, Juliet, there is a lot in a name. One can't be too hard a a tween expressing what little wisdom he or she can gather in the first thirteen years of their lives. I mean, everything turned out alright for her, didn't it?