preposition + noun = paragraph

On exams:
Comprehensive exams are over. Well, the test-taking part anyway; the evaluation and pass/fail-part is not over yet. But still, stress has been reduced by 90% in this matter, and for that I am grateful. Now, all the things I've put aside because I was too busy not studying enough for my exams, all those things can be addressed. Things like:

Reading the book Annie Dillard names as one of her favorites: The Great American Forest by Rutherford Platt, 1965. After checking my email to make sure my electronic Word document of my exam had been successfully sent to faculty, the second thing I did was to go to the MSU library website and see if they carried this book. Sure as shit, they did.

I curse being required to read 6 books for the exam with the vim and vigor of Tom Cruise on a Scientology rampage. Why, while I'm plowing through my chosen books, am I making lists of books and why am I compelled to count down the days until the exam is over just because that will be the day I get to read anything else? Why do I resent my favorite book of all time because it prevents me from reading an old hardcover with due dates stamped in various colors, a loose spine, and that distinct old cardboard smell? Avoidance. That is all.

*

On names:
I realized that I need to marry someone with a last name that begins with the letter "D."
Ani DiFranco
Annie Dillard
Anna D______
This will not fulfill me. I am not that pathetic. It'd just be kinda fucking cool.

*

On names for dogs that I do not yet own:
"Jem" and "Scout" are out. (And for that matter, so are "Boo" and "Dill," or worse yet, "Atticus." Can you imagine?) I thought the To Kill a Mockingbird theme would be fun, but I think it leans more towards pretentious.

Here's where my thoughts lean: Fella and Mr. The first, an ode to the greatest poodle ever, Jackson, as it's the nickname Ma often called him. The second, Mr. (pronounced traditionally or as mee-sta), works on a few levels because a) it matches in theme with Fella, b) it can be an obscure reference to the great book and movie (and okay, even Oprah's Broadway "adaptation" wasn't half-bad) The Color Purple, and c) I can't wait to write it at the vet's office or when signing him up for agility tournaments.

poodled

There's a debate between E and I over who our childhood dog--a beautiful, well-mannered, cream-colored standard poodle--was named for: Jackson Browne or Michael Jackson. I claim the former. When I ask my mom, a woman who catalogues the dates of major life events infallibly, she won't answer. She generally doesn't live in the past. When I ask Dad, I phrase it strategically: "You named Jackson after Jackson Browne, right?" because Dad has a history of giving answers that appear in or somehow repeat the question.

I don't know why it's such an issue, and probably it isn't even so much for E. I know she doesn't care much, but humors me when I bring it up. I have this insecurity about being right, and in instances in which I'm convinced I'm right, I rarely allow the issue to die until I'm proven right. So, it comes down to an old folk-rocker-alleged-wife-beater to the King-of-Pop-alleged-child-molester.

The question I probably should be asking my parents is why they deemed either one of these men a fitting figure to name our dog after.