Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Will I Miss the Miss when I'm a Mrs.?

Turning an important corner.

So as a 32-year-old Miss soon to be Mrs. I needed to document my mindset at this point, in these last 40 days of 'the Stutts.'

My given surname has provided me angst and enjoyment. From the improper spellings and pronunciations ("no, Miss Slutts is not here, she's out working her corner!") to the incessant phonetic spelling for customer service reps ("It's S as in Sam, T as in Tom, U, T as in Tom, T as in Tom, S as in Sam"), there are parts of me that relish the notion of increasing my alphabetical altitude (N from S, as it were), and for the ease of saying "Now as in Now, ling."

Then I become circumspect and recall that I've built a fabulous life and reputation with this German moniker, which I will soon replace with an Irish one. Although both voracious beer consuming countries, so probably no harm, no foul, wink wink. In these 32 years, with this name, I was born to two of the greatest people I'll ever know, graduated in the top of my high school class with honors, was the first Stutts in history to graduate college, opened up an advertising agency, dodged a breast cancer scare, and then, met the man whom I can't wait to marry.

When I was 16, I made certain assumptions about how my life would play out, never imagining for one red hot second that I'd find someone so completely perfect for me. Before you bust out the Betty Crocker apron and good flatware, what I mean is that he is perfect for me because he found me as I am, loved me as I am, and wants to spend a lifetime not changing me. The fact that I choose to change my name might seem ironic after all these years, but then again, irony isn't lost on me that I am so fortunate to have found someone worthy of changing something as monumental as this. Kind reader, remind me of this gushy interlude when I'm standing waist deep at the DMV to change my license, or sitting on hold for 4o minutes while my bank works out the details of my new identity!

In the end, and in the beginning of this path I'm walking with my fella, it turns out that names, like countries, know no boundaries. 'Stutts' will travel with me until the day I die, or at least as long as Facebook is still around!

Paint me nostalgic, but I do mourn it a bit - not the single life being gone - rather the name that got me through it all. But yes, I'm excited for what new corners I'll turn under 'Nowling.'

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