lindsay with an 'a'

I have known for many years that, when it comes to the spelling of the name Lindsay, there is much scope for the imagination. Lindsay, Lindsey, Lyndsie, Linsey, etc, etc. I know them all, and not just because my own name has been thought to own each of these spellings, but because I can pair a face with every variety.

There's Lindsey, who, when she was little and lived down the street from me, used to feed "pizza" to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles with my brother, Riley, by slipping pieces of bread down the sewer hole in front of our house. And there's Linsey, whose underwear "caught fire" at a slumber party. And of course one can't forget Lyndsie, who has been a bosom friend and kindred spirit since we discovered we shared the same name and therefore thought it appropriate that we eat lunch together on that first day of 7th grade. Yes, there have been many Lindsay's in my life.

When I was younger (and less forgiving), my life would become a perfect graveyard of buried hopes each time someone misspelled my name. The variety that irked me the most was Lindsey. I realize that it's an honest mistake, given the long 'e' sound in the second syllable, but it still sent me into the depths of despair. I like my letter a.

There was a time, though, when I didn't particularly like the name Lindsay. It seemed too plain and hopelessly without any thrills. I sincerely wished, and often imagined, that I had been named Charlotte. Charlotte was by far a much more romantic sounding name. But after being told one day by my dental hygienist as she cleaned my teeth that I looked exactly like a Lindsay, I decided I might as well take what I was given and run with it -- so long as it was spelled with an 'a.'

What difference does it make how it's spelled? you may be asking yourself.

"Oh, it makes such a difference. It looks so much nicer. When you hear a name pronounced can't you always see it in your mind, just as if it was printed out? I can; and [L-i-n-d-s-e-y] looks dreadful, but [L-i-n-d-s-a-y] looks so much more distinguished. If you'll only call me [Lindsay] spelled with an [a] I shall try to reconcile myself to not being called [Charlotte]."

At any rate, isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes, spelling or otherwise, in it?


(Um, yes, I am, in fact, presently reading Anne of Green Gables, and the further along in the story I get, the more I catch myself wondering if perhaps Anne - with an e - Shirley and I are kindred spirits. Anyway, I'm happy to report that I have grown wiser and more experienced since my first reading of the book, and am consequently now finding it perfectly delightful and myself eager to devour more.)