The Meaning

It occurred to me while searching for my own blog, as I had forgotten the URL, that the word or name 'Falador' isn't unique to me or my blog, and that I should share the background of it. First, no, it's not the city in Runescape, which is apparently an online nerd heaven, not that I'd know...
I referenced a male friend of mine in my last post, part 3, the survivor. It's lucky that I did, as he's in this story, right at the center, and now I don't have to worry about introducing him. We shall call him Rejad, even though he isn't Indian or whatever ethnicity that name sounds closest to to you (yes, that sentence needs two 'to's.). Rejad and I have known each other for 10 or 11 years, and have been friends for .. gosh, was I 17 or was he? One of us was, so we've either been friends for 3 years or 5. Sad that I can't even remember. I do remember how we came to be friends, however, and that is more central to the story.
On one of Rejad's birthdays (again with the confusion as to who was 17), my mom urged me to send him an e-card. Rejad and I didn't talk... Or, more accurately, Rejad didn't talk. He was one of the most quiet persons I had ever not met, despite some efforts of mine and my friends to get him to speak. Looking back, he probably laughed at us the whole day, and I don't blame him. He was 2 years older than I am, and still is, as a matter of fact. All of my friends were older than me, excepting some cousins, so it wasn't the age that made me nervous about sending him a virtual birthday card. It was that I felt he would either 1. think of me as the oddest person he'd ever not met, 2. think I had a crush on him, which I didn't, or 3. ... well, there really was no telling what his reply might be. Summoning all of my courage, I found one that I thought of as amusing, knowing that he liked odd things for reasons of his own, and sent it to him. I still remember the card. It had a dog on it, sniffing the screen, and the words said something like, "Well at least you don't smell old yet." It was a wonderful card.
To my amazement, shock, and horror, within the next few days I got a reply. From Rejad. To me. My parents had the time of their lives teasing me about it. I can't even remember what he had said; it was something witty I'm sure, along with a heartfelt thanks for the card in celebration of his birth and reaching an older age. I wrote back. He wrote back. I replied. He replied. It was fantastic.
I found out that Rejad had a peculiar sense of humor, could write well, and was obviously more comfortable writing to a girl than speaking to one. Among the inside stories and jokes of our letters, there is the answer to the name of his blog. Rejad had said something, to which I replied with some words, among them, "Cra.. uh.. nice of you." He combined the shortening of 'crazy' with 'uh' and 'nice', creating the fantastic word 'Crauhnice', about which he has made up a definition, a principle, and pretty much written a few books about (yes, I'm advertising for him).
After a while, we spoke to each other in person at our church fellowship gatherings, and a splendid friendship grew from that. In our letters, we spoke in other languages entirely. Languages like German, Portuguese, French, etc. Online translators are such helpful things.  Our friendship grew so much that we decided we must have nicknames, or he decided that, as next I knew he was calling me Falador. It took a while for me to find the correct language this came from, and when I did, I don't think I got the proper translation. Of course, he wouldn't tell me what it meant, so I had to try several of the different translators found online in my quest to find the meaning of my name. Eventually, I found that it meant, in Portuguese, 'Talker', or 'Chatterbox'.. even, my favorite, 'Speaker of nonsense'. And that was my name from him. And that is the name of this blog. And there.. you have it.