There's a not so long story about my mom's alias.
She wanted to be the Teacher. Bland, informative without being descriptive, and reminds me of oatmeal. (I like oatmeal when I can put enough nuts and brown sugar on it. The key is to put the brown sugar on when the Teacher isn't around because she's sure to think that enough sugar is too much.) I didn't like it much. But I wanted a blog and I wanted it fast, and since I didn't have time to come up with a good compromise, Teacher she is and Teacher she'll stay. Bah.
But there was another name she could have had. A very good name. A name that, if she had only been a little more daring, a little more lenient, a little more oblivious, could have been hers. I loved this name. It was great. It described the awesomeness of the Teacher without being overly worshipful.
[Drum roll here.]
It was: She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed-After-Due-Discourse-And-Debate-And-We've-All-Decided-To-Agree-That-It's-To-Much-Trouble-To-Resist-Her-On-This-One-Unless-The-Suggested-Action-Will-Actually-Be-More-Inconvenient-Than-Doing-Nothing-Or-We-Don't-Feel-Like-It-Right-Now-Or-We-Have-A-Better-Idea-Or-Have-Something-Better-To-Do-Than-This-Or-It's-Just-Plain-A-Bad-Idea-But-Otherwise-Honest-Cross-Our-Hearts-And-Hope-To-Die-We'll-Get-Right-On-This-Imperative-Obedience-Thing.
And she would have been She for short.
It's too bad, isn't it?