I am a Beetle. Hear me Roar.

This is a post about nicknames.

I figured I should explain the whole "Warrior Beetle" thing. And why when someone says "Hey, Warrior Beetle" I turn around and say "Yes?"

It wasn't always Warrior Beetle, the whole beetle thing began with my mom deciding that I bore distinct similarities to a Dung Beetle. Just to clarify, I am not rotund, horned, or covered in a black exoskeleton. Nor do I spend my time pushing balls of elephant dung ten times my size around on the ground. What my mom decided was that I was strong (did you know they can move ten times their weight in poop?), industrious, highly focused, and always busy. I also weigh 96 pounds of muscle so when you hug me it feels very carapace-like.

So for many years I was Dung Beetle, which was sometimes shortened to D.B., or Dung, or Beetle. So how did the Warrior come about?

The last three years haven't been the easiest years of my life. For starters, my dad died a few months before my 27th birthday after a long and messy battle with substance abuse. A year and a half after that, I got laid off from my job. Yes, world, I became a statistic. It's not the nicest sensation in the world. Since January 2012 I've been relatively unemployed, living in New York on a rapidly dwindling bank account, and trying to a) get a job b)figure out what the hell I want to do with my life. And apart from my OCD cleanliness getting a bit worse, losing all of the small amount of body fat I had, and sporadic panic attacks, I'm still here.

I think this is why Warrior Beetle came about. Mom decided I was a Warrior. For a while I was Ninja Beetle (apparently I look like an assassin in my running clothes, and I make no noise when I run so stealth killing is possible). But although I spend the majority of my time in running clothes, I do dress up whenever I can. So Warrior Beetle happened - a bit more theoretical and applicable even if I'm in lace and pearls. I am a warrior because I fight back. One thing everything that has happened has taught me is that life can suck really hard sometimes. And it's not fair. And it doesn't make sense. And anyone who says "everything happens for a reason" needs to be punched in the face. But what are you going to do? You gotta keep going. You figure out how to survive and you survive. And that's what I'm going to do. I am a warrior. And I am a beetle. I am a warrior beetle.

*waggles horns in triumph*

Lest this become one of "those" posts, I want to end on a lighter note. If you can hold Standing Head to Knee at the same time as your cat is biting your ankle, you are set for life.