Today’s topic was supposed to be about real life opportunities that your blog has given you. Yeah, got nothing. I’m in it just to rant about what’s on my mind anonymously. If we don’t have that we can tell a bit about ourselves. So, here’s today’s rant about what is going on with me.
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Changing your name sucks.

I didn’t really have to deal with the ramifications of this before. When I got married the first time I was living in one state, quit my job, got married, moved to another state, and got a new job. Everyone I met from then on knew me by my married name. No confusion.

When I got divorced I had been in my job for 8 years and decided not to change my name because I had a receptionist who was so resistant to change that another vet called her “the parrot.” He said, “You know how if you give a parrot a new toy they will scream and carry on and be afraid of it for a while and then once they get used to it they will defend it to the death? That’s her.” I didn’t want to deal with her and thought at the time that I’d be remarrying fairly soon so I didn’t change my name. I knew I’d have to change it to something else then since it is considered rude to keep your first husband’s name. Besides I’m working on my princess name. Princesses have like 10 names each. I’m up to 5. Sure, mine is more like Joan Collins in Dynasty than a true princess but it is as good as I’ve got.

The wedding got postponed a few years and then we moved and it got postponed again and now I’m changing my name after 6 months at a job. It is not going well. I don’t have a first name at my job. If I try to use my first name they look at me blankly and honestly have to think about who this Heather person is. So changing my last name has thrown them all into a tizzy. Conversations generally start out like this – “Hey, Dr…. uh… mumblemumblemumble…. ” It doesn’t help that my previous last name was a regular word in the English language and this name is just a random collection of syllables that doesn’t mean anything. That’s even harder to remember.

One person said he was going to avoid the whole thing and refer to me as The Doctor which thrilled the Doctor Who fan in me to no end. I want a sonic screwdriver.

I told the husband that every time I come home muttering that no one including me can remember what name to write down he is supposed to pet me on the head and repeat, “You’re so smart and pretty” without a trace of sarcasm in his voice. It helps somehow.