Introductions

Ladies and Gentleman, the moment you've all been waiting for!  It's the one...the only...Gingerrrrr.
(And the crowd goes wild. Put your hands together.  And all the other introductory cliches.  Add them yourself.  I don't have time for that kind of stuff.)
Me: Thank you Mr. Announcer.  You're so kind... And so handsome to boot! *Insert fakest smile I can muster*
Mr. Announcer:  Anything for you Ginge. *Insert equally dumb smile*
Me: Mr. Announcer, I would prefer you don't call me Ginge. My name is Ginger. It's really not that difficult.  I don't like Ginge.  And I don't feel any more affection to you for shortening my name.
Why is it that we, as a human race, feel that a nickname automatically makes us closer to someone?    It's foolish really. Teachers will ask their student, "What would you have me call you, Sebastian?  Seb maybe?"  Poor Sebastian.  Singled out both in the class and in my post for his long-ish name.  Why can't he just have all of Sebastian?  Same with Andrewski, if that's a name.  And poor Cornelius.  Four whole syllables! It took me an extra 2 microseconds to type it, even! 
So.  Let's get one thing started. I'm Ginger. Ginger. The entire thing please. I know it might stress your poor little selves out to add that extra r and syllable, but you. can. do. it. Challenge yourself.
It's clear, probably, to most of you that I have abandoned the announcer and my dialogue and have progressed straight into a full-fledged rant on nicknames.  NOT that there's anything wrong with them. If Andrewski wants to be called Drew or Ski, then fine by me! Live your life! But, when selecting a child's name, or being introduced to somebody, don't look for the easy way out. Personally I'm going to name my firstborn Serendipity-Victoriana and that does not include her middle name, Elizabetha Maria, and EVERYONE will be expected to say all of it.  Don't like it?  Want to poo-poo me?  Too freaking bad!
Moving on past pet peeves with names.
People? I'm Ginger. I was born with no hair so it's not like my parents knew I was going to be an actual "ginger" and then be named Ginger.  Yes, my father was a redhead, but I was balder than a peach, so they meant no harm in my first name. I have red hair.  Let's move on.
Oh. And I have a soul. If I get one more lame joke about gingers not having souls I'm going to light someone's head on fire and taunt them about not having a soul. Whether we have souls or not is besides the point.  I just would like a little originality in jokes, ok? Is that too much to ask?
I blog. Apparently.  I'm actually an amateur blogger. If that turns you off, get out. I'm not interested in having people critique my blogging style.
I...live? I eat.  I'm not Julia Roberts and I'm no Julia and Julia or whatever the heck that was about. I just like to eat. Mainly things that people make for me, or deliver to me, or stuff that just happens to end up in my hands.
I feel self conscious, honestly. I'm a fairly vain person, but this whole blogging about myself thing is uncomfortable.  Hopefully not all my blogs will be about myself, per se.  I'd like to rant about other things that catch my fancy.  So, feel free to comment about nicknames. If anyone has really long names, or really short ones for that matter, chime right in. I'll try to get some more stuff up about other things than myself.
I need a signout phrase.  That much is clear.