As a little kid, Paula's the kind of girl who wants to play "school" — with real assignments and assigned seating. It's annoying, but you do it because her house has really good snacks. In high school, she's that one girl who throws actual dinner parties, where you're supposed to dress up. She won't host the after-prom party — she's not really that cool — but she might have everyone over beforehand to take pictures and eat little cheese sticks. Later, she'll grow up into the kind of mom who's always coming in while your friends are watching a movie to serve some nut balls that she just made — or some equally embarrassing treat. You love her, of course, but sometimes she does slightly off-the-wall things, like knitting the dog a sweater that goes on the back half instead of the front, or slipping a handful of paper clips into your lunchbox.

I think my perception that Paula is a mom name comes from its dwindling popularity — it was riding high in the fifties and sixties, never dipping below #54 nationwide, but by the eighties it had dropped precipitously to #236, and now it languishes at #681. So while a few little Paulas were born last year, Paula's still more likely to be a baby boomer than a baby. And judging by famous Paulas, she's likely to be a little odd.

Paula Deen seems like the kind of mom everybody loves — she makes fried Twinkies, after all. But I can kind of see her getting carried away and frying up, say, some Chex Mix or a Ziploc bag. Paula Jones has two kids, who may or may not be embarrassed about her boxing match with Tonya Harding. Comic Paula Poundstone's mom issues actually crossed the line into downright disturbing, but she's apparently incorporated her child endangerment arrest into her act, so she seems to have come to terms with it. And of course, the premier Paula is Paula Abdul, the woman Rosie O'Donnell once called "erratic." Abdul has struggled with eating disorders and painkillers in the past, and so her antics always carry a worrisome edge. Still, it's hard not to have affection for someone who once broke her nose trying to "avoid tripping over her pet chihuahua." I bet that chihuahua was rocking a back-half sweater.

According to an oddly specific survey by a British vodka maker, office workers think people named Sarah, Becky and Emma are the biggest "Christmas party girls." Paula might not be the one drunkenly making out under the mistletoe (although, actually, does anyone do this? Outside of a commercial, I mean). However, she probably does throw a mean Christmas party — as long as you stay away from the nut balls.

Paula [Baby Name Wizards]
Brits: Sarah, Chris Wildest Party Names [UPI.com]
Paula [Wikipedia]

Earlier: O Is For Olivia: Precocious, Passionate, & Up For A Lesbian Cruise
N Is For Natasha, A Femme Fatale
M Is For Michelle, An Elegant Mystery
L Is For Lisa, Whose Looks Are Deceiving
K Is For Kate, Who Kicks Ass, Takes Names
J Is For Jennifer, The Vanilla Of Names
I Is For Isabel, Who's Snooty, But Earns It
H Is For Hillary, A Barrel Of Laughs
G Is For Grace - What's That Up Her Sleeve?
F Is For Francesca, And I Wish I Were Her
E Is For Emily, Who Seems Sweet (At First)
D Is For Danielle (Or Dani, Who's Apparently Kinda Judgey)
C Is For Courtney, Who's Too Cool For School
B is for Beth (And Barack! And Bandana!)
A Is For Anna: What My First Name Says About Me

I've always liked the name Kate. It has a take-no-prisoners shortness and efficiency — I envision Kate walking down a major street in a big city, wearing cigarette pants and stylish ankle boots, with her head in the game and her eyes on the prize. Katherine may dither, Kathy may chirp, but Kate speaks in a serious, matter-of-fact voice, and when she speaks, you listen. Often, when I think about names, I think about high school, but I can't imagine Kate before she had her own apartment (studio; well-appointed but not ostentatious; clean) or her demanding yet extremely cool job (architect; investigative reporter; corporate detective; spy?). Kate doesn't have a lot of time for friends, but when you manage to catch her in town (she travels a lot for work), she gives great advice. And she tells a great story, although you always know there's a better story she's not telling. Kate could star in a modern-dress production of The Taming of the Shrew — except that in the final act, she'd tell Petruchio where to shove it.

But there's also a dark side to Kate. She's so cool and successful it can make her stuck up. She's not a mean girl, and she's not interested in shit-talk or gossip, but she might not have compassion for people less together than her. Sometimes she just doesn't understand how you could date that guy, or that girl, or why you lost your job when she just got a promotion. This aspect of Kate I can imagine playing out in high school — she's the girl who couldn't see why everyone didn't get an A on the bio test, since it was so easy. Kate doesn't take pleasure in other people's pain, but she has no appreciation for messiness in life, and if you're a little bit of a mess, she has no time for you.

Famous Kates don't necessarily bear out my vision of the name. Kate Moss, whom I consider the iconic Kate, certainly dresses like one. She has the badass aspect of Kateness down, but she's also no stranger to messiness. Kate Winslet just seems too lushly gorgeous — and also too down-to-earth — to fit my image of the somewhat unforgiving Kate. Cate Blanchett might be closer — that angular, ethereal face looks like it could deliver some harsh judgments. But Kate Bosworth seems the closest to the ice-queen version of Kate, especially since her enthusiasm for horseback-riding adds a little upper-crustiness to her image.

Kate hit its peak of popularity — #97 in the US — in the 1880s, and it seems like a pretty good name for a Victorian lady, especially the kind who plays the piano and paints and knows three languages and looks down her nose at you if you use the wrong fork. The name fell all the way down to #843 in the fifties — maybe those traditionalist times favored less hard-driving names for women. Now the name has rebounded to #139, but if you're a Kate, you probably don't give a shit. You're probably not even reading this — after all, you have a plane to catch.

Kate [Wikipedia]
Kate (popularity) [The Baby Name Wizard]

Earlier: J Is For Jennifer, The Vanilla Of Names
I Is For Isabel, Who's Snooty, But Earns It
H Is For Hillary, A Barrel Of Laughs
G Is For Grace - What's That Up Her Sleeve?
F Is For Francesca, And I Wish I Were Her
E Is For Emily, Who Seems Sweet (At First)
D Is For Danielle (Or Dani, Who's Apparently Kinda Judgey)
C Is For Courtney, Who's Too Cool For School
B is for Beth (And Barack! And Bandana!)
A Is For Anna: What My First Name Says About Me

It's actually all the way down to #84 in America now, but when I was growing up in the eighties and nineties, Jennifer was everywhere. One commenter on The Baby Name Wizard says, "When you are a 'Jennifer' you will always be known by your first and last name, never just 'Jennifer'" — and indeed, I knew a lot of girls who were doomed to go through school as Jennifer L., Jennifer K., or Jennifer W. Perhaps it's inevitable that a name so common would pick up a girl-next-door vibe, and to me Jennifer immediately conjures up the image of a neat ponytail and a nonthreatening expression. Jennifer's pretty, but she isn't beautiful — and she certainly isn't slutty. She's nice, and she has good friends — she might be the kind of girl with two really close besties, but they're no mean-girl triumvirate. Jennifer will lend you an extra pencil if you need one, but she won't give you her kidney. She's not a Beth, after all. The best thing about being a Jennifer is that no one has anything bad to say about you. The worst thing is that they might get you mixed up with all the other girls who have your name.

Celebrity Jennifers fit the Jennifer stereotype to a T — and maybe they've helped define it. Diva J.Lo is something of an outlier, and Jennifer Connelly seems kind of icy, but smiley Jennifer Garner looks just like the kind of Jennifer G. who got picked a solid third in gym class seven years in a row. And would Jennifer Aniston be the all-American girl to Angelina Jolie's dangerous temptress if her name were, say, Isabel? I think not. Of course, perhaps Aniston's pleasant face and the lengths to which her publicists have gone to make her seem "relateable" have contributed to the image of a Jennifer as a comfortable, average girl — even if she was once married to Brad Pitt.

A common name does have its advantages. As I write this post, I've been thinking back to all the Jennifers I've known — giggly Jennifers, no-nonsense Jennifers, hilarious Jennifers, downright scary Jennifers, and of course a large assortment of Jennys, Jens, and Jenns. Everybody knows a Jennifer, so everybody probably has an opinion of what Jennifers are like — and some of these opinions are bound to be interesting. Having a vanilla name also gives you the opportunity for under-the-radar coolness. Mike Doughty has a pretty great song called "27 Jennifers" that goes, in part,

I went to school with 27 Jennifers,
16 Jenns, 10 Jennies, and then there was her.

When you share your name with 26 other people, you've got a shot at being her, the one who stands out from all the rest and makes an everyday name into something new and weird and awesome. Having a name that's cast from a common mold can be pretty cool, if you're the one to break it.

Jennifer [Wikipedia]
Jennifer [Baby Name Wizard]

Earlier: I Is For Isabel, Who's Snooty, But Earns It
H Is For Hillary, A Barrel Of Laughs
G Is For Grace - What's That Up Her Sleeve?
F Is For Francesca, And I Wish I Were Her
E Is For Emily, Who Seems Sweet (At First)
D Is For Danielle (Or Dani, Who's Apparently Kinda Judgey)
C Is For Courtney, Who's Too Cool For School
B is for Beth (And Barack! And Bandana!)
A Is For Anna: What My First Name Says About Me

Kluger (whose daughters are half-Mexican and named Elisa and Paloma) claims that while some Latin names — especially bilingual ones like Victoria, Cecilia, Hector, Sandra — remain popular, others "appear doomed."

He explains:

What happens, of course, when an immigrant group heads toward assimilation, is that each successive generation gets more educated (82% of first-generation Latin-American kids ages 15 to 17 attend school, compared with 97% of second-generation kids - hardly perfect but moving toward parity) and more proficient in the national language (by the third generation, 95% of Latino kids ages 15 to 17 speak English exclusively or very well). Another thing that happens is that parents start moving away from baby names like Guillermo and closer to names like William.

While there's a sense of belonging for people like Jennifer Lopez and Jessica Alba — born and raised in the U.S. with "Americanized" names, there's also the long-debated question: What's wrong with a name that reflects a baby's heritage? Throughout American history, there have been two schools of thought: You either choose assimilation or aspiration with an "American" name that makes the mainstream public more comfortable, or you "honor" your ethnicity or origins with a name that leaves little doubt about your background. Charlie Sheen was born Carlos Estevez; Ralph Lauren was previously Ralph Lipschitz — and Kluger equates the "Elisas and Jorges and Angelicas" of this era with the "Goldies, Shlomos, Moeshes and Mitzis" of an earlier time.

But if you pick an "assimilated" name to fit in, do you perpetuate the myth that those without assimilated names are "out"? If you worry that Juan or Manuel sounds foreign/uneducated, isn't raising a smart kid named Juan the best way to bust that idea? In any case, a recent study claims hat by 2025, close to 30% of all American kids will have some Latino ancestry. But instead of Pedro, Lucia and Maria, we'll have Michael, Elizabeth and Emily. Dodai, on the other hand…

Adios, Juan and Juanita: Latin Names Trend Down [Time]
Popular Baby Names [Social Security Association]

The Danielles I've known have usually been pretty nice, and while I don't think the name is as saintly as Beth, to me it has a certain wholesome quality. Danielle plays soccer or maybe field hockey. She wears her hair in a ponytail — sometimes she chews gum, but she never snaps it. She might at some point have starred in a public service announcement about exercise or eating fruits and vegetables. She's not as popular as Courtney, but she has plenty of friends, and she does well in school. I'm just realizing that all of my examples of typical Danielle behavior come from high school, which is maybe where all my name stereotypes — and my assumptions about all things social — were formed. And to give you an idea of how flimsy those stereotypes are, the Danielles in one Jezebel editor's life have been "snotty and haughty and rude" or "pushy/emotional/desperate/annoying."

Dani, though, is a whole nother kettle of fish. She's sassy and edgy, and she may have a purple streak in her hair. She shares her name with one of the worst songs of the past decade, but somehow she still manages to be cool. She might well be a mean girl, but she's the kind you can't totally hate, because sometimes she turns around and does something sweet, like giving you really nice present on your birthday or defending you from someone meaner than she is. If she spells her name with an i, her hipness might wear well, but her name is still mainstream enough that she could become a soccer mom, or a crappy character on Law & Order. If she goes by "Danny," though, she might be the kind of iconoclast for whom you just can't predict the future — or, equally possible, the kind of annoying girl who intentionally adopts a boys' name because she thinks it's cute and sexy.

Or, she might grow up to be a judge. According to a new study conducted in South Carolina, female lawyers with "masculine names" are more likely to become judges. One possible explanation is that both potential employers and voters — in the case of judicial elections — are fooled into thinking masculine-named candidates are actually men, and so conscious or unconscious gender bias works in their favor (this would seem to give Danny an advantage over Dani, who still has an advantage over Danielle). It's also possible that even when people know Danny, Esq. is a girl, they trust her more — study authors Bentley Coffey and Patrick McLaughlin write, "a woman with a male moniker might just feel more like 'one of the boys.'" Or, they say, "it could just be that the parents who successfully nurture a girl's ability are the same people who believe that bestowing a child with a masculine name would be advantageous in her future career path."

In his coverage of the judge study, True/Slant's Ryan Sager mentions another study that shows that people's names have some effect on what careers they choose (ie. people named Dennis are more likely to be dentists). Since Danielle happens to mean "God is my judge," maybe parents with judicial aspirations for their daughters really should name them Danielle, but shorten it to Dani or Danny for maximum sexist-fooling potential. Then again, naming your kids according to your hopes for their future careers is kind of creepy. Given the state of the Internet in the early '80s, it wouldn't really have been possible — but I'm still pretty glad my parents didn't name me Blog.

Danielle [Wikipedia]
Judicial Gender Testing [True/Slant]

Of course, the selection process for this week's name was a complicated one. Despite its reported popularity around election time, Barack failed to make the 2008 ranking of the top 1,000 baby names. We could have examined this news further, but we're currently biased towards female names. Even with this restriction, though, there were a lot of choices. A look at BabyNames.com reveals Bandana, Betelgeuse (say it three times and see what you get), and Beagan (is that Meagan with a B?). But ultimately, we decided to go with an old favorite.

Beth as a stand-alone name has declined in popularity from a peak in 1960, and it didn't make the top 1,000 in 2008. A variant on Elizabeth or Bethany, it doesn't always get a lot of respect on its own. It doesn't seem to have its own Wikipedia page, and a user on The Baby Name Wizard says, "Everyone assumes my real name is Elizabeth or Bethany, I don't mind." Which is just like a Beth!

Of all of the ways to shorten Elizabeth, Beth sounds the sweetest and the softest. It eliminates the 'z' that makes Lizzie sound sassy and Liz sound sharp, and it doesn't have the old-fashioned spark of Betty (which always make think of Betties Boop and Grable before I think of Cooper). And of course there's Beth from Little Women, the shy, saintly sister who dies of scarlet fever. All in all, Beth just sounds nice — the kind of unassuming girl who'd give you her fruit rollup if you forgot your lunch, or hold your hair while you vomit, and never ask for credit.

Celebrity Beths don't necessarily bear these assumptions out. Beth Ditto's far from unassuming, although according to Michelle Tea she is pretty nice. And model Beth Ostrosky either had to be super-sweet or not sweet at all to marry Howard Stern. Singer Beth Orton doesn't really seem to fit the profile either — or, frankly, any profile. So, maybe our image of the nice, quiet Beth is little simplistic. Beths and Beth-allies, what do you think? Feel free to chime in loudly and angrily.

Few Baby Baracks, But Emmas Abound [NYT]
Beth [The Baby Name Wizards]

Earlier: A Is For Anna: What My First Name Says About Me

The program scours the internet for information about the person and then fits them into a set of categories using an algorithmic process. Obviously from the results below, the process isn't perfect, but that's part of the point. The creators explain:

It is meant for the viewer to reflect on our current and future world, where digital histories are as important if not more important than oral histories, and computational methods of condensing our digital traces are opaque and socially ignorant.

In other words, it may be telling that one of Nadya Suleman's biggest categories is "fame," but "sports" winding up on Anna Wintour's profile probably means the computer misinterpreted combative phrases in articles about her.

You can check out what Personas reveals about your favorite (or unfavorite) people here. Feel free to share the results in the comments.

Click on the images below to make them larger:

Personas [MIT]

Yes, The TWITs, "Teenage Women in their Thirties," who like to party it up "like teenagers," which apparently means putting marriage and children on hold for a while. That's it. That's the entire definition of a "TWIT." A woman in her thirties who likes to go out dancing instead of planning weddings or shopping at Babies R Us. "People have a perception of me as being young and fun and when I tell them my age it changes the way they see me," says TWIT Kelly Jones, a model, "I am here to have good clean fun, party it up and live my life."

As Eleni Hale of the Herald Sun writes, "Just like men with Peter Pan-syndrome who are not ready to grow up, TWITs are putting serious relationships and parenthood on hold, instead choosing to continue partying and enjoying the freedoms they discovered in their teens." Apparently, not having kids and being single makes a thirty year old woman equal to a sixteen year old! Who knew? And here I was thinking that women who made choices regarding parenthood and marriage who just happened to enjoy going out and having fun were just, you know, WOMEN, and not 16-year-olds trapped in a 30-year-old package.

Thank goodness someone has slapped a meaningless label on this "fad" to help us understand it a bit better. And to think, I was just calling this phenomenon "Thursday night with my friend Lisa." Now I know I should buy her a pink jacket with "TWIT 4 Lyfe" emblazoned on the back. Surely, she'll be thrilled that her life choices have been neatly packaged into a completely empty and idiotic category.

Meet The TWITs- Teenage Women In Their Thirties [Herald Sun]

Long story short, Kelly Girl (the couple differentiates by referring to themselves as "Kelly Boy" and "Kelly Girl") sent Kelly Boy a message, and the two started talking. The talking turned into dating, and the two eventually fell in love. Now, the couple is getting married. Clip below:

While the couple will surely hit a few speedbumps as far as paperwork confusion goes, they say they'll at least try to make it a bit less confusing for the rest of the world by not naming their future children Kelly, as well. But wouldn't it be kind of hilarious if they did?

Pair With Same First Name, Last Name To Wed [MSNBC]

The theory is that boys given one of these ten names are more likely to be teased in school. According to Michael Inbar of the Today Show, "the more unlikely the name, the more likely a boy is to commit a delinquent act." Or, in Ernest's case, the more likely he is to have wacky adventures and later share them with his friend Vern. [MSNBC]

In 2007, a Chinese couple tried to name their baby "@." We've already seen names like Moon Unit, Espn and Rocket, Racer, Rebel and Rogue. But this is beyond Apple and Bronx: This is about technology, and creating an identity for yourself. Many of us have an online persona — a name we've chosen to represent us, and who can be either just like our real life personality or more anonymous, more mysterious, more witty, more aggressive, more thoughtful, more self-promoting, more bitchy… etc. For many of us, online and offline personae don't overlap, and the whole point of using a pseudonym is having the freedom to be expressive without boundaries. But online, you can create a name, a brand, a life that you end up carrying into your real life. And maybe as technology plays a bigger and bigger part in our lives, the names we give ourselves will become more meaningful than the names we are given.

Woman Changes Name To Princess-Rainbow.com [Independent]

For a new book, Bad Baby Names, Michael Sherrod and Matthew Rayback checked census records from 1790 to 1930 and found names like Garage Empty, Hysteria Johnson, Infinity Hubbard, Please Cope, Major Slaughter, Ima Muskrat, Ima Nut and Ima Hooker. They also interviewed adults who had survived childhoods with names like Candy Stohr, Cash Guy, Mary Christmas, River Jordan and Rasp Berry. Fun is one thing. But what if you want a kid to succeed? Do you name your daughter "C.E.O."?

According to a survey by BabyCenter, 58% of parents believe that the name they give their baby will contribute to his or her success in life, the Freakonomics guys write in the New York Times. ("Apparently they didn't read Freakonomics, or at least they didn't believe it," they add.) Moms and dads think a baby boy's name should convey strength and individuality; a girl's name should relay femininity, individuality and kindness. And yet! 3% of survey responders said they'd change their child's name if they could, because the name had become too popular. So much for individuality. "I've seen brilliant children with awful, meaningless names," said one parent.

(Meanwhile, the trend of naming your kid after a famous city (London, Dallas, Paris, Brooklyn) can only go so far: over on Babble this morning, Jen Chaney warns that some towns (Lizard Lick, NC, Crapo, MD, Sugartit, KY) should be avoided.)

As a child with a unique name I always felt bad for the kids in my class who had to be Brian M. and Brian S. or Jennifer C. and Jenny C. I thought unique names were better, until I realized that I'd be spelling mine pretty much every day for the rest of my life. But I've got to ask: Does an interesting name make for an interesting person? Even though Freakonomics claims that a name has nothing to do with the life a child will lead, do you secretly believe a name has the power to shape a kid's personality? To make a person achieve more — or less? (And are all Jessicas really bitches?)

A Boy Named Sue, and a Theory of Names, If I Name My Daughter 'C.E.O,' Will She Become One? [New York Times]
My Son Crapo [Babble]
The Big Baby Name Survey [BabyCenter]

Earlier: Sometimes, Parents Give Kids A "Bad" Name
The Most Popular Baby Names Of 2007
A Chinese Couple Have Tried To Name Their Baby "@"
It's Official: Jessicas — From Alba To Z — Suck
Jessicas Are All Pretty Bitches

Adrienne and Matt Grayson named their son Luke Beckett Grayson and regretted it almost immediately. "I couldn't shut up about how we should call him Beckett instead of Luke, and I also started mourning my maiden name, Shaw," Adrienne says. "I thought I should've made that his middle name because we weren't going to have more kids." She wanted to change his name to Beckett Shaw Grayson, so she spent hours on the phone with the Social Security office. But when her son's new Social Security card arrived, it read "Shaw Luke Grayson." Whoops!

Experts say that for parents who want to change their children's names, it's best to get the child's input if he or she is older than 2. "By 2 or 3 they have a sense of identity, and it could send mixed messages," says Dr. Karla Umpierre. "The child might ask himself, 'Do you want to change me?'" On one hand, your name is a very important part of who you are; those involved in the naming process should be happy, and free to change or amend their choice at will. Hell, if they brought you into this world, they can call you whatever they damn please! But what kind of lesson does a kid whose name has been changed learn? That it's okay to waffle? That second-guessing yourself is normal? That picking something and sticking to it is overrated? Also, since we're not talking Apple and Audio here, aren't there bigger fish to fry? Isn't the difference between Emma and Caroline almost negligible when you consider that names like Banjo, Ryder and Rumer abound? (P.S. I was almost Nicole.)

Baby-Name Remorse — What Do You Do? [CNN]
Earlier: Anns Get As, Barbaras Get Bs, & Christinas Get Crap
What Makes A Name "Sexy"?
The Most Popular Baby Names Of 2007...
Jessicas Are All Pretty Bitches

The eerie coincidences also held for law schools. Scrutinizing data on 170 law schools and 392,458 lawyers, the researchers found that the higher the school's ranking (by U.S. News & World Report), the higher the proportion of lawyers with the initials A or B. Adlai and Bill are more likely to go to Stanford than Chester and Dwight. (In the study, people with conflicting initials—Douglas Avery—were eliminated from the analysis.) Liking your own name "sabotages success for people whose initials match" the names of negative things such as low grades and strikeouts.

A, My Name is Alice: Moniker Madness [Newsweek]

Some female names just sound attractive, sometimes because of famous women who have the name, but also due to the sound they make: Amelia, Penelope, Naomi - all roll off the tongue with a hint of the foreign, the exotic, and the downright sexy. This of course is still irrespective of how the women might really look.

The writer goes on to ask, "What's your ideal name for your perfect girl?" And while I'm weirded out that this is something guys actually devote brain energy towards, as a person with an unusual name, I often think about what names mean, what feelings they invoke, whether they sound pleasing, are fun to say, seem sassy, smart, cute or sexy. Even if you're open minded, don't the names Mildred and Ethel inspire a certain mental picture? It may not be fair, but it happens. While the blogger's choices, Amelia, Penelope and Naomi — are nice names, are they inherently sexy? What about slinky names like Lola, Maxine, Sophia, Serena, Zahara (not taking Ms. Jolie-Pitt into account)? And what if that mythic, stunning woman at the bar is named Hillary? Doesn't that suddenly become the sexiest name?

What's in a name? [MioDestino, via Coutorture]