This is me. I am a walking anti-climax.
My name - Miami - sets
me out to be a really cool, unique person with crazy parents and the
kind of person who would causually have a pet lobster. But alas, that is
not me.
When people meet me there are four set questions
they ask me, clearly expecting interesting responces, but all I manage
to do is dissapoint.
Question one: Why are you called Miami?
My name is Miami, not because I was conceived there but because my
Mummy 'liked the name'. There are some that think it's because of the
American football team the Miami Dolphins, but my Mummy denies this.
Question two: Do you have any siblings, what are there names?
I have one older brother, his name is Daniel.
Question three: What are your parents names?
Anne and Kevin.
Question four: What's in your locket?
Nothing.
While answering these questions I get to watch the interested faces
gradually lose interest with each answer. The standard end of any
conversation with a new person is generally introduced by them reciting
the lines of the Will Smith song 'We're Going to Miami'.
I am Maimi, this is my blog, I am an anti-climax.