Gogol's Worst Day

So, you want to know about my worst day in English, huh?  What, do you like hearing me suffer?  Eh, fine, I'll tell you.  But it is awfully embarrassing.  Anyways, this was the day before we were going to read this stupid book, called "The Namesake."  I don't really remember what it's about, only that it's about some whiny kid whose parents move to the US from India.  I didn't really read it, because "to read the story... would mean paying tribute to [my] namesake, accepting it somehow" (92).  So on this particular day, we had a discussion about our own names, and our opinions of them.  Do I really have to tell you why I hated this day?  My name is Gogol, for crying out loud. Gogol Ganguli. To be honest with you, I think it sounds like some sort of nasty Italian pasta dish.  "At times, [my] name... manages to... distress [me] physically, like the scratchy tag of a shirt [I] have been forced permanently to wear" (76).  I mean, if that simile doesn't show you the extent of my internal conflict, I don't know what will.  Nonetheless, I had to talk about my name, and explain that my dad gave it to me because he likes this Russian author named Gogol.  That's all well and fine, but who in their right mind goes and names their child Gogol?  But back to the class, it's bad enough that I have to wear this name around everywhere, but then having to talk about it in front of all my peers?  The memory of it haunts me to this day.  Just meeting new people and introducing myself is miserable.  "[I] cannot imagine saying 'Hi, it's Gogol'... [I] cannot imagine this at all" (76).  But I take comfort in the fact that at least I'm not alone.  This one kid we call the Dark Lord (his real name is Chase) was talking about how "the normal 'e' at the end of his first name makes up for the weird 'e' at the end of his last name..." I suppose he has more of a spelling problem, but you get the point.  Anyway, I have to go back to being and angsty teenager, I'll see you around.