Monday, December 5, 2011

What's in a name?

     I'm finally getting around to making my name change official.  We've been married for a year now.  My procrastination wasn't because I wasn't sure of him or the marriage ... but because it is always such a hassle.

     First you have to change it with Social Security.  Then where your drivers license (I just finally got around to getting one with a Texas address!), work, bank accounts, credit cards, everything....  You'd think that it would be an easier process, but it isn't.  You'd also think that since I'd already done it six times (married, divorced, married, divorced, married, divorced) that I'd be tired of it, or at least have the process down to an exact science.

     Not.

     At least this time I like the name.

     My first married name sounded like someone hacking up a lung.  It lasted just a year before his drug use made me leave.  The second time around my name became abbreviated to CyCo at work when I had to sign something quickly ... which is what he was and what I almost became after twelve years with him.  "Sometimes it's better to have loved and lost, than live with a psycho the rest of your life." 

     The third was probably doomed from the start when I told someone how to pronounce my new Hungarian last name.  "Think of commode and put in a load!"  My father-in-law didn't think that was as funny as I did.... the marriage didn't last two years... I had a problem with him and his son trying to sneak his ex-wife into the house.  (Imagine that!)

     But this time around, the name... the man... and the marriage is a keeper.  Summerlin.  It sounds almost like a romantic resort on the beach... or in the mountains.  My cousin told me after we were married that it made my name sound like a song.  Cindi Summerlin.  I like it.

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