"the origin of the second m." to answer the unanswered questions...

Hmm, how to describe this day in my life... it's a difficult task, really. It was one of those days where nothing to go in your favor. It was one of those days where when people ask you what was wrong, you would say "just one of those days, you know?" with them replying with a sympathetic nod or apologetic word or two of encouragement.
It was one of those days, you just could not wait to end.
But they always say you learn more from losing than from winning, right?

Enough about how lackluster my day was, how about something about me?
Well as you can probably already see I have two M's in my name, it's quite a long story actually. But I don't mind telling it. For my english class we had to write about a defining moment in our lives... being completely perplexed by the idea I finally came up with the idea to write about the day I "added" the second "M" to my name. instead of paraphrasing which would be much to strenuous for me, I'd much prefer to just copy and paste:

Of course, on what seemed like an average day I up late. It was the morning routine for my mom to yell five or six times for me to “get cracking” and to “get out of bed”. Eventually I would, then slothfully pick out my uniform for the day, and pick out a hat. Even though I knew as soon as I walked inside the classroom, I would be forced to take it off, revealing the unkempt mess I called my hair.

 Today was one of those days that the teachers passed out numerous assignments, most of which you never remember doing. As always, the teacher would ask for helpers and a couple teacher’s pets would volunteer. This ordeal would take almost a whole thirty minutes because of the enormity of the class, and the enormous number of papers. 

            As I was glancing through my papers, I realized that the vast majority of them said “Sammy J” on the top of them, but they were not mine. Immediately, I was flustered as I sorted the papers that were obviously mine, from the papers that blatantly were not mine. Then, I carelessly stacked up the unwanted papers and walked them over to the other Sammy J in my class. Surprisingly, she had not even noticed that she had almost all my papers. We exchanged papers then I trotted back to my seat with my large stack of papers.

            Through lunch and recess, my thoughts raced around my head like a fire engine on its way to a distant resident’s inferno of a home, as I brain stormed some way to stop my frustrations. Yet nothing even crossed my mind! Never had my fifth grade brain been so baffled! It’s not like I could just change my name, although I could go by my middle name, June. I was named after my grandmother, oh, and how I loved her! But, honestly, Mom and Dad, June? The name was so incredibly girly, there was no way I would let people call me that, unless I really wanted to be the laughing stock of Mrs. Grimm’s fifth grade class. Or, I could just pick a name I liked that nobody else would have, but then it would only make my life more inconvenient with the confusing double life I would be forced to live. 

            After lunch was Social Studies, where I was handed a worksheet (from one of the teachers pets) probably about Abraham Lincoln, Lewis and Clark, or Declaration of Independence. As I focused on the daunting line labeled “Name”, I came to the realization that I would have to write out my entire name-- “Sammy Jeppson”--to divert any confusion of who I was. Just the thought sent shivers down my spine! I would be—what felt like--the only student in my fifth grade class of uniquely named idiots who had to write their last names on their papers. After I had written my mile-long name. It hit me! Oh, but I couldn’t! I quickly flipped over my #2 pencil and erased the “y” from the end of my name! It was so simple, yet so deep and complex! Could I have two “m’s” in my one syllable name? What would my mother think? She was the one who named me Samantha, and called me Sammy, as common as the name was. But, it was far too late! The deed had been done, so I left it! Every once in a while, I’d glance up to the top of my paper and chortle joyfully to myself: what had I done?

            Everyday, I was excited for my mom to pick me up from the school. It was school, after all! But, this day was different; this day I was a new woman: this day I had a unique name. This was one of those days where the school day lasted forever because I could not wait for my teacher to excuse my class. Which made me one step closer to jumping in my minivan and report to my mom what happened at school that day. Finally, all the papers that would be handed back to me would be my own. My fifth grade frame could hardly take the excitement I felt! I had found myself, and I could not wait to tell my mom.

            From that day forward, I have been the Sam with two “M’s”. I’m also glad to say I’m only confused with another Samantha or Sam on very few occasions as far as assignments in school go.  Although it’s a rough story to tell, I don’t mind telling it because it’s become a part of who I am today.  Even if I do tell the story more than most parents read their child’s favorite bedtime story.

Hopefully this answers your questions. If not, feel free to ask?
And yes, my name is actually Samantha. Not Sammantha. I'm not quite sure what parent in their right mind would do that to their child, definitely not my mother!
That's enough about me for tonight, I'm not sure if anyone will read this but my sister who is going to win the blogging "competition" no matter how hard I try.
Good night, and thanks for reading.
--Samm.