Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Journal 103 Hermit Mode

..not Hermit in a BAD way (to me, there is no such thing).
Just me, at home, alone, the day unfolding, schedule-less.
Curling my hair with my new curling iron. Ok, not really curling--bending. Waving. Loving it.
Finding a hotel on line for Mike's parents and sister and nephew (yes, they are coming to the wedding! I'm happy.)
Reading the book I got out of the library on marathon training (I have such a long way to go).
Walking to the grocery store in the middle of the day. (Very few people. Very few cars).
Watching daytime tv, no not soaps. (Intervention. Football highlights. Criminal Minds. Under a blanket).
Thinking about cleaning my condo, renting a movie, making my dinner. In the abstract. As things I CAN do, things I DO have time for.
Talking on the phone, and NOT on my bluetooth.

I'm getting married in a week, not really hermit behaviour (I went for a quick dose of vitamin D today, and as I was lying in the tanning bed, I thought--woah. I'm getting married. Does everyone who is getting married feel this way? That strange blend of...wait..I'm going to have a HUSBAND? Keep in mind--an independent adult life, one of 'unmarried bliss' is dictating these thoughts. I'm excited, but yea, we're citizens of two different, but bordering, countries. It's going to mean paperwork. Paperwork. The bane of my existence).

But I'm still also stuck in the name game. What am I going to do? I'm of two schools of thought--I don't mind telling you.
One. My name, my lifelong name--it's the last vestige of my family name. My father was the youngest of three, two sons, one daughter. So, naturally (in the seventies, pre the real feminist era), his sister took her husband's name. And had a daughter. Then my dad had two daughters, me and my sister. And his brother didn't have kids.
Thus, my aunt's daughter had her father's name. And when my sister got married, she took her husband's name, too. My mother had also conceded her own last name when she married my dad. So I'm left, now, as the last Bignell in my father's family. It's a bit of a mantle. What of my name-choice? What about wanting to take Mike's name? What about joining forces with him? Yes, I like the hyphenating idea. But it has its own complications. I guess, though, any name-change does. I have a lovely neat new box of business cards at work--black and white, my name in a tight font, and now, they will be garbage. My email digital signature will be easier to change.
Then there's my driver's license, my passport, all those pieces of ID. The bills, what have you. Mike is of the opinion that it's more trouble than it's worth.
But I work at a job where I deal with alot of married couples. Let's face it--you can identify them instantly when they have the same last name. Is it wrong to want to fit in a box? I know. I've spent my whole life dreaming outside the box. And now, a desire to crawl into it (no matter how non-life-changing and how much I will keep my own identity) seems out of character for me, I know.
But I feel like I'm starting a new phase of my life. One that I wasn't sure I was ever going to embark upon.
It's taken alot for me to get this far, I guess I'm wondering why I shouldn't keep going....
(I'll keep you posted. And I welcome opinions...)

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