Alexandria is Greek for “defender of men.” According to Urban Dictionary it is a beautiful person who is friendly yet bitchy and fearful of nothing. An example of it used in a sentence would be “I wish I could be Alexandria.” Alexandria is also a famous port in Egypt and a small town in Minnesota, go Gophers!
If you ask my Father about my name he will tell you a fantastic story. I was born in the summer of 1996. My parents were debating baby names for the seventh time, and my father was set on naming me Alexandria after a relatively insignificant distant cousin. However, the summer Olympics were in full swing and everyone was in awe over an admirable gymnast named Lexie. My Mother loved the name and my Father is a stubborn man so I became Alexandria LeRiche Landolt, Lexie for short. LeRiche after my grandmother’s maiden name to give me the initials A.L.L. All, as in according to traditional family planning I was meant to be the seventh and final child. The end. The big finale. Here is where I should mention my discrepancies with natural family planning because I love my eight siblings with all my heart.
Now, while I have never fact checked my Father, and if you knew him you would understand that I definitely should. I have never had the desire to find out if it was true or not because regardless of the tale my name is Alexandria LeRiche Landolt, daughter of Ken and Michelle Landolt, sister to Amanda, Kelsey, Kristen, Megan, K.J., Jacob, Keanu, and Grace Landolt.
While I have a fancy name and the nickname Lexie, my parents decided this was insufficient. I received the nickname Goose because for the first five years of my life I was the youngest of my siblings, therefore the baby goose. As I grew older my parents continued to call me Goose.
“Goose take out the trash.”
“Goose can you fold these cloths?”
“Goose what do you want for dinner?”
“Is that my Goose?” (Yeah, have fun explaining this to your college friends when they come to visit.)
Because my parents were set on calling me Goose it lead to a heavy debate at sporting events. I played volleyball, basketball, and soccer in high school and my parents tried to make it to as many games as possible. At many of my games students, athletes, teachers, and guest where always appalled by the man, I call my Father, who would loudly boo during the games. What people didn’t realize was that he wasn’t booing at all. He was loudly and obnoxiously yelling, G-O-O-S-E. As you can see my nickname was no secret after this. It also didn’t help that my Father bought me a lunch box to take to high school and proudly embroidered, Goose, in large letters at the top. This began the debate by many on why I was called Goose. Some believed it was due to my constant goose bumps from being permanently and uncomfortably cold. Others claimed it was due to my long neck like a goose, both of which were unfortunately accurate.
Speaking of long necks, this next story leads me to my next nickname that I received in high school. In 2012, TJ Max was a popular place to shop and find some great bargain deals. However, their changing rooms, since have been remodeled, did not accommodate a 5’11 sophomore such as myself. So when I went to try on cloths the door of the dressing room sadly only went up to my neck. Leaving my neck and head completely exposed, highlighting my very long neck. Also causing one of my sisters to say “Come show me your outfit little giraffe.” Unfortunately for me, the nickname stuck.
From this day forward my siblings thought it would be funny to buy me things with giraffe’s on them to tease me for the unfortunate distance between the end of my collarbone and beginning of my chin. First, they bought me a ceramic giraffe, which is actually very cute and it has been on my nightstand ever since. They would also get me earrings, shirts, socks, and cards all with giraffes on them. You could also probably scroll through my Facebook page and see me tagged in about a thousand giraffe memes. Sometimes I’m waiting to hear back from my Mother about relatively serious matters and I will just get a picture of a giraffe as a response three days later. Like excuse me, that does not answer my question.
The best part about my new nickname is just about everyone knew except my Father, until he caught on my senior year of high school. My father tends to take things to the extreme, especially when it comes to nicknames so you can understand my fear when he finally caught on. Many people, when they graduate from high school get a pat on the back, maybe a card, in extreme cases a cake and a celebratory dinner… Not me, for my graduation I walked out to my front yard to see a six-foot metal giraffe. I received a lawn ornament, one in which my father insisted I bring to put in my freshman dorm room. Believe me, I wish I were joking. In addition to this metal giraffe I came home a week later to a 5 foot plush giraffe sitting in my room. The joke had officially gone too far, plus the plush giraffe really gave me the creeps. However, I don’t really have a say in when the joke is over so to this day when my neck peaks around the corner, I hear “Giraffe!” When I swim in a pool, “Giraffe!” And when I do something awkward, which is only about 99 percent of the time, “Giraffe!”
Between the teasing and the gifts my siblings and parents have started to really confuse children on the basic fundamentals of animal names. My nieces, bless their little hearts, are aware of many animal names and love to go to the zoo. My sister loves taking them to the zoo and getting a picture with “Lexie’s family” or with “Lexie” to send to me when they go. One being the giraffes and the other being the giraffe statue children can sit on. That being said my nieces understand what a horse is and know that a horse, with the exception of the long neck, looks very similar to a giraffe. Yet, they get confused because their mother always refers to those animals as Lexies. Leading to my 2 and 3 year old nieces to ask to visit the zoo to see the Lexie horses. Take a minute to imagine being confused with a zoo animal by a small adorable child. You can’t help, but laugh. Which unfortunately confuses them more and enforces the nickname to stick.
Over the years I’ve learned to accept my nicknames because they are fun and it is what it is. I do this by wrapping all my gifts in giraffe wrapping paper. Buying all my nieces and nephews the book Giraffes Cant Dance by Andreae Giles for their first book. And fully embracing who I am and the great stories I have to tell. I like my name and my nicknames. It represents who I am and where I have come from. It shows my parents partnership and ability to plan and compromise. It links me back to my grandmother who I miss very much. Ironically, it is hardly used by those who truly know me, but over used by those angry with me. It represents a million little stories that I would love to tell to anyone who cares to listen. It makes me feel powerful, beautiful, strong, funny, and smart. I don’t mind when people forget it, misuse it, or misspell it because I know my name and I know who I am. Nobody can change that, and that is what I love.
Lexie Landolt 
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