Gretchen Rubin's site Happiness Project is dedicated to finding happiness in whatever way works. Rubin is writing a book on the ventures of trying for a year every suggestion and scientific method and idea to find happiness. On the way to being published, she publishes various post encouraging others to think about happiness, to start a happiness project of their own, to work on being happy. I follow her posts mainly off her twitter feed, but occasionally find a link or two through other sources.

The most recent post that caught me thinking asks, What image suggests happiness to you?

Without hesitation, my answer was an image of a yellow marigold. My only pause in completing the answer was trying to decide between the sunshine yellow of some marigolds, and the goldenrod yellow of the others.

The yellow of the marigold just screams sunny, summer weather when the flowers were out. The flowers themselves remind me of my mother out in the yard planting them in the front parkway and along the side of the house. The smell of them teleports me back to the days of youth when life was a carefree venture of staying out past 9pm in the summer evenings playing kick-the-can or tag, or watching the fireworks in July, or catching lightning bugs in the back yards after the sun went down and the air finally cooled enough that you could move.

Yes, a yellow marigold.

Without a doubt.

Unlike probably 99% of the world (a statistic I just now pulled out of my, uh, thin air), I have, as far as I can tell, a unique name. My last name is a bastardization of a more common name. No one in my family can recite to me the family tree so far back that the name has actually changed, but the general consensus is that it's some variation of Hodgson.

Sure, there are some very common names in my family's past, names like Brady and Rose. In our current household, though, McQueen is the most common name (1 person and two dogs), with Hodsden being not-so-common. Even outside of the house Hodsden is a pretty uncommon name.

So, pair an uncommon last name with an uncommon first name, and you end up with one of me.

Which isn't to say there aren't people with similar names. There's a Kit Hodson out there. And a Kit Hudson (the director of "Captain N & the Adventures of Super Mario Bros. 3" no less!). And a tonne of Kit Hodgsons out there. So many of those Hodgsons, I tell you.

So, finding me is really easy. You can misspell my last name, you can still find me if you spell my first name right:

My name is unique (especially if you stick that damn M in the front), so, yeah, I'm findable.

So, when I come across friends with an online presence who have to directly address the fact that other people have the same name as they do, I actually have to pause.

Wait.

Other people have the same name as you?

Of course, there are other khodsdens out there, stealing my default username when kitt has been taken. There's a Keith out there. And a Krista.

When I meet people with the same last name as I, a few minutes chatting with them, followed by a phone call to my dad or aunt, usually results in an easy trace to our common ancestor, not so far back in the family tree. I've met the wife of my second cousin twice removed, working at my doctor's office of all places. My dad seems to know all of the ones who live out here in California. It's spooky.

I do have to wonder, though, how easy is it to disappear into a crowd if you're all named the same name? Finding one particular Heather Brown, or Paul Nelson, or David Weekly, or Andy Crews in a crowd is a hell of a lot harder than finding a Kitt Hodsden. And don't even think about trying to find the right Mark Schmidt or Mark Rubin. Not going to happen. Hell, there are even several Kris McQueens, and not all of them male.

There are times when I look at my name and have to wonder. How the hell did I end up with such a crazy name? Sometimes it's kinda cool. Other times, it's just weird.

Inspired by another letter to a 20 year old self, I chose to write this before reading her notes.

Dear 20-year-old Kitt,

It's easy to become addicted to falling in love. The act of falling in love triggers a flood of brain chemicals that are quite similar to the chemicals addicts have when they satisfy their addictions. The torture of unrequited love can be just as addicting. However, as easy as falling in love is, it's just as easy to realize this person is not someone you want to be with any longer. The shine wearing off is the chemical high dropping. Given this, wait three months before having sex with him. If the shine doesn't last 12 weeks, the relationship won't either. Really, you can wait that long. Explore other options. Develop some real intimacy and see if this is someone you really like, or if it's the brain chemicals talking.

Ever have a project that was so incredibly all-consuming in your life that everything else was just pushed aside, nothing else was done, the laundry piles up, the dishes would pile up except that you don't cook because it takes too long so you eat out all the time instead, phone calls aren't returned, previous meetings are cancelled, your ass grows wide and hurts from sitting on it all the time, and you're just focused on that one task at hand?

Yeah, I've had those more than a few times in my life.

I think for most people, that all-consuming project is a new child. From the horror stories I've heard, you have no choice in that matter with an infant.

For me, however, those projects are nearly all work related.

For the last two and a half weeks, it's been this website:

Yes, I know. The irony.

Not lost on me either.

I was asked about three weeks ago if I wanted to do the project. I was in the middle of my "don't take any jobs, just work on my own stuff," and being not very productive on my own stuff, so I said yes.

Looking at the project, I was wondering, good lord, how hard can this project be? The site is four pages. A remote service handles all of the big scary payment security issues. Totally, how hard could it be?

Do you know just how dangerous the phrase "How hard could it be?" is?

Do you?

Do you really?

Yeah.

I did okay, until I realized just how much I didn't know, and how poorly the payment handling service provider documented its process. Even after I realized this, I still thought the project could be completed on time, with me as the sole developer. Wow, was I way clueless.

I was, however, working with some people who understood me better than I expected, knew when to ask me if I needed help, and trusted me to say yes, which I did. I'd like to say I've managed to lose my ego these last few years, when it comes to programming. Yes, I want to go a good job, but you know what, I want the project to succeed more than I want to do the whole thing myself.

The group of people I've been working with at Doyle's company are an incredible group. Yes, even with the frustration of one on the group, a frustration that another group saw from a mile away last week, it's still a great group of people. I'm really glad I have the chance to work with them.

I hope that, well, this project does somewhat well. It was a really short, intense project, which I'll need to do a brain dump on shortly so that it's properly documented.

Unlike what I had.

A year or two ago, a new health clinic went in at an empty lot close to my house. When it was approved by voters, I knew that I'd be screwed. Why? Well, just for starters, the spot would see a LOT more traffic than it was seeing (anything greater than zero is more). It would also have a larger number of traffic control signals, which mean, yep, poor timing on the signals, lots of wasted gas waiting for the lights, etc.

Even the announcement that my main doctor would now be officed less than a seven minute walk from my house didn't deter my loud and whiny complaints about this damn facility going in.

My fears have pretty much come true. Traffic has increased probably 200 fold in the morning hours. The lights are HORRIBLY timed. Drivers are morons in the area, thinking it's okay to turn right directly in front of oncoming traffic who has the right of way. Hundreds of man hours are lost waiting for the lights to turn green after waiting for the red light for the non-existant car or walker to cross the street.

Even the grocery store which had provided a decent by-pass put speed bumps into the lot, removing the only decent route to bypass the clusterfuck of the clinic exit.

This morning's commute was a perfect example of why I completely despise this new facility, and all of the lights and traffic signals and traffic and people associated with it: when I do the right thing, I get screwed.

So, there's a stop sign at the corner of the clinic's property. The commute is stop at this stop sign, turn right, go 20 yards and through a stop light that controls traffic from the clinic and grocery store which are on opposing sides of the street, go another 30 yards and turn left at the next stop light, which puts you on the major roadway which leads to an easy access to 2 freeways.

I received a (bogus) ticket at that first stop sign, so I'm very careful to stop at that stop sign within one meter of the intersection. The ticket I received at that stop sign was for when I stopped 20 feet back from the stop sign, then turned right without pulling forward first, despite it being my turn to turn right. Right.

So, as I approached the stop sign, a car was stopped at the stop sign across the intersection facing me. It stayed still as I approached. I stopped completely. The opposing car stayed still. I waited a second, two, four, six, ten. Annoyed, I started to pull forward, just as the car started to move to turn left into the intersection. I stopped, waited for it to turn, then turned right.

Just in time to see the first stop light turn yellow. Too late to accelerate through the stop light, I cursed and stopped at the intersection as the light turned red.

This light is the fucking worst light in the world.

I watched as the light in front of us, the one where I would be turning left if I hadn't done the right thing and waited for the moron in the car to my left turn left in front of me, turned green letting all the traffic go, then turn red again. I waited as the traffic from the clinic flew out of the lot, turning left and cruising through the second light. I watched as the light turned green for the people who were turning right onto the street in front of me. I watched light way in front of me turn red as a woman took 7 of the 32 seconds the walk sign allotted her to cross the street. Then I waited the remaining 25 seconds for no good reason, because there HAD to be a light at that intersection, a fucking light instead of a reasonable stop sign.

If I had just turned right, I would have saved myself the six minutes all of the waiting around I needed to do for those damn red lights. Six minutes times all the other people there, plus the exhaust going into the lungs of all those people walking into the health clinic, mmmmmm, that's tasty, and yes, my day started out completely annoyingly wrong by doing right.