What's in a name?

I've been toying with the idea of pseudonym. Specifically that I want one for myself but am having trouble coming up with a name. It started last week when I was writing a little opinion piece for the newspaper-- something about certain illegal acts I may have been cited for-- and caught myself censoring, which I hate. At the time I used a mental fix, swearing to leave my identity off the article. Only there are two things wrong with anonymity...
1. It defeats the main purpose of my writing, which is of course to get the much needed attention that a youngest child is accustomed to.
2. It's just no fun.
I've thought about my alias before. Usually the thought occurs at a bar, though, develops into something like "Shamrock" or "Hennessey," and is served with some sort of accent to the creepers-- you know, those ones at the bars that like to pick up girls with such names as "Shamrock" or "Hennessey."
I've also thought about making character names for this blog, a sort of cast list of all my friends and lovers that appear on this page. Then I realized that there are actually very few friends and lovers (make judgments as you will) that come up in my writing. So really, I would only be characterizing myself... which brings me back to this pseudonym.
Once in Italy I sat on a canal-side dock with some Venetian philosophy students, not actually thinking about myself, until one of the guys (in a very chauvinist Italian sort of way) looked at me and said, "You know I've forgotten your name already, but I think you look like a Sarah."
BLAH. I wanted to puke on his greasy, cigarette-dragging smirk. And then I realized, shit, what if he's right? What if I do look like a Sarah?
My friend David swears, on the contrary, I am "such a Josie." And I kind of agree. I feel this way about the names of a lot of people.
My mother, for instance, notoriously answers the telephone with a soprano "He-looo," the rounded vowel carrying out awkwardly for a few seconds as the person on the other end waits for her to breathe. Her name is Melody.
One of my best friends is all of 4 feet 11 inches, a legal midget, but she has the most beautiful long chestnut brown hair and eyes to match. She is a spitfire, Jewish, daughter of a lawyer. Her name is Talia.
And then there's this guy I, suppose, had a fling with a bit back. He is completely New York, Upper West Side, belonging to some obscure eastern religion, sharp model-like features, intent gaze. His name is Julian.
So I'm back to my pseudonym, which is so hard because my parents have given me these three wonderfully out-of-the- ordinary names to play with, shorten, and go by as I choose. And now I want one more. It doesn't have to be perfect, and obviously it won't be "soo me" like my real name. But Sarah? Really? Somehow I'd rather be anonymous.