Author Archives: Cynthetics

About Cynthetics

Amateur blogger and intense observer of life through warped sunglasses. In an attempt to hone my writing skills, I am having fun bringing humor and entertainment through observations of everyday experiences. Nothing is sacred!

What’s In A Name?


This morning I woke up to my boyfriend asking me if my friend “Karen” was having an issue with her name. I was puzzled about the question? My boyfriend was surprised to learn I had not seen or heard about the “Karen” meme. I can say, “I learned something new today.”

Then when I opened up my Internet browser, an article from The Guardian popped up about the meme. I still haven’t seen the meme, but the article is great and explains a lot. Here is a link to the article:

When I started my career, I started using Cynthia because it sounds more professional. My dad refused to call me Cynthia growing up, and my family made fun of me later for using it, but they aren’t the dictators of my career. I have always thought about what comes to people’s minds when they hear my name, such as: Bitch? Snotty? Goodie Two-Shoes? Or “Cindy” Born in the 60’s, “Marsha, Marsha, Marsha,” or you picture a little girl with blonde curls. I hope I’m none of the above. If I am seen that way, I try to correct it immediately. I’m not a blonde, so no confusion there.

And until I worked with a superior named Katrina and a peer named Marsha, I never gave much thought to a hidden meaning in someone else’s name. Except for one New Year’s Eve when I had a party and researched the history of the name of each attendee and posted each history on the walls for people to read (which provided some fun entertainment). But then there was Hurricane Katrina. Sadly, Katrina put up with rude and inconsiderate behavior during the Hurricane and after the Hurricane. I can’t blame her for getting upset. I’m not even going to mention Marsha.

I have seen a lot of examples where people are quick to judge and be openly rude out of ignorance, fear or stress. I learned years ago to not group by association. i.e. All people named “insert name here” are crazy. In an effort to be a better person, I have a better appreciation for not judging someone by their name, and you can just call me “Hey You.” Share the love, and don’t be a follower.

Carpe Diem!

Coffee Cup Stories #4


I had a recent tele med visit where the nurse said something interesting, which I’m paraphrasing here. “Not only do we have to worry about the Corona Virus, but now we have to worry about our cities being on fire.” It made me think about what I’m going to do around the house for the next round of “stay-at-home” orders soon to come.

As we all rework our lives, we are discovering or rediscovering ways to occupy our time and minds. One thing that has become popular is gardening. A lot of people already gardened, but others are just finding out that they can actually grow food.

That brings me to this coffee cup. Ever thought about living in a commune? Or maybe you lived in a hippie commune in the 70’s? I was born a bit too late for that, but I definitely would have. This cup is not from a hippie commune, but more like a yuppie commune. To live there, you would need a lot of money to spend on a fractional ownership of a house with its very own vegetable garden. You can then enjoy (on a part-time basis) gardening, wandering through the huge community garden, the excellent restaurant serving food grown and raised in the community (yes they had farm animals somewhere), beautiful designer swimming pools, cooking classes, and shops selling handmade items (high-end of course) all while listening to live Latin music. I forgot to mention the great martinis garnished with stuff you have never heard of. After a couple of those, who cares whether you are drinking Vodka with hibiscus or helium. All of it designed to mesmerize you and sign you up for their commune.

I loved this place! But the only thing I could afford to bring back after the two martinis was a coffee cup. Did I mention it is in Mexico?

Carpe Diem.