Just between you, me and the entire Internet, I'm not such a nice person

My alma matter sent out an email with Homecoming information yesterday, which was my reminder to make an annual visit to the alumnae information site and scope out what all of my old classmates are up to. Nothing unexpected -- the usual marriages, births, promotions and moves to what presumably are more prestigious zip codes. Nice to see everyone's doing well, but frankly, the info they provide on their profiles is more than enough to keep my curiosity assuaged. I felt no compelling need to email anyone to catch up in more depth, nor to make a pilgrimage up to central New York for lots of Orangeman frenzy and football hoopla and false gaiety.

Only one alumni profile caught my eye and merited more than a second's thought this time around. The man who I thought for quite some time was the love of my life (this obviously years before the true love of my life came along) apparently had a baby girl this year, his first. And he not only gave her a name I hate, he gave her a porn star name. Say what you will about the popularity of the name Julia, but at least the first mental image that comes to mind when you hear my daughter's name isn't tassels and a lap dance.

I can't even begin to tell you the amount of snarky superiority I felt when I saw that profile entry. I've been giggling ever since. And now you know the awful truth about me. Not only did I once date guys whose taste was apparently even worse than my own, but I remain a total bitch about them to this day.