Why Am Rushmore?

In which my interview with Amy continues:

Question two-and-a-half: 

How did your blog get that ridiculous name?

(okay, so Amy didn't actually ask that question, but I could tell she was thinking it, so I decided to answer)

I have a deep-seated, life-long belief that I like you more than you like me.  WAY more.  On the outside, I'm a straight-laced, somewhat reserved person, but inside, I am nothing but a big, goofy, slobbery yellow dog.  I am running enthusiastic circles around you, tongue hanging out, ears flapping, saying “Hi! What's your name? Want to be my friend?  Want to play with me?"  I am standing by the door with the Frisbee in my mouth wagging my tail.  I am barking at the window when you pull into the driveway.  I am gazing at you adoringly, 24 hours a day, saying:

But here’s the thing; puppies are exhausting.  I know this.  You may think puppies are absolutely adorable and perfect, and then you try to spend more than ten minutes with them and you remember why you don’t have a puppy.  They are relentless.  I’ve lived my life trying to keep my inner puppy in her crate so she doesn’t annoy others.  I am irrationally convinced that the kind, fun, generous, loving people in my life are eventually going to swat me with a rolled up newspaper and tell me to go away. 

Let me interject and say I don’t look like a crazy, neurotic, insecure person.  In fact, I look like I totally have my shit together.  That’s because I’ve learned to fake it in order protect myself from the inevitable disappointment of you not liking me as much as I like you.   I’ve perfected this act to the point of creating enormous personal barriers that keep you at arm’s length at all times.  I look like I don’t need or want you in my life, and as a result, you keep your distance, and totally prove my theory right.  Perverse, I know.

So what, you are asking, does this ridiculous self -disclosure have to do with the name of my blog?  Well a bunch of years ago I had a dream in which I owned a dog named Rushmore.  A dear friend (who wormed her way through a crack in my armor and knows all about my personal puppy theory) found this symbolism hilarious and would affectionately call me Rushmore.

So I started using “iamrushmore” as a user name when I wanted to be anonymous.  It was a private little joke with myself and it represented a part of me I tried to keep hidden.  When I started my blog, I couldn’t think of a wonderful creative name.  I wasn’t even sure I was going to TELL anyone I’d started a blog, so rather than agonizing over a great title, I resorted to my code name.

The funny thing is, the more I do this, the less I want to hide.  The more I create and share, the less I care what others think of me.  Is it good?  Does it suck?  WHO CARES – I’m having fun!   I’m a paint-flinging wonder, and in the process I’m figuring out who I am. 

Guess what?  I AM Rushmore.  I’m enthusiastic. I’m energetic.  I’m playful.  (OK, I’ll admit it, I’m a spaz).  I will love you with my whole heart, no questions asked.  I might even lick you once in a while.  I will certainly leave muddy footprints on your kitchen floor, but I will help you clean it up.  I will be your friend for the rest of your life if you will just scratch me behind the ears once in a while.  Like it or not, it’s who I am.  Say it loud, say it proud.