I remember sitting at the Fulton County Registrar's Office about 4 years ago, next to my strong, handsome fiance, waiting to apply for our marriage license. Among other things, I was still pondering right down to the wire what my new name should be. When I married the first time, I HYPHENATED my last name AND kept the middle name my parents gave me, rendering me The Person with the SINGLE. LONGEST. NAME. EVER. Needless to say, about 6.42 seconds into that marriage, I slapped my forehead in resolute regret and wished fervently that I could just be Megan, like Cher, or Madonna, or even Roseanne. I was forced to perfect the art of writing microscopic letters and drawing in additional circular bubbles on forms of all kinds. OH it was all kinds of fun, people. And the cropped versions of my name that would STILL appear on licenses and government documents and mailing lists even after all of my diligent documentation? Always an object lesson in humility. They didn't just lop off however many letters they were short at the end of my name... they pulled them out randomly whereever they saw fit. I knew I didn't want to hyphenate again. Ever. A girl gets tired of seeing her name spelled so it looks like a half-finished New York Times crossword puzzle.
I had to shorten things up this time around. I didn't want to just keep my maiden name. True story - a certain popular spell-check program corrects my maiden name to Mean Ferret. You cannot begin to imagine the hilarity that afforded my co-workers back when I was gainfully employed.
But my parents were blessed with two girls and no boys, as were my Dad's brother Butch and his wife Joy, my mother's sister. Yes, that's right. Brothers married sisters which means that I have a couple girl cousins to whom I'm so closely related that even though we're nearly a thousand miles apart, when one of them sneezes, my eyes water. Anyway, we, the four female products of these two unions, single-handedly cauterized the branches of not one but TWO family trees into stumpy little nubs. Irrrrrk. Giving up my own family surname felt wrong to me. Like a final stinging slap in the face to my father and his father and all their fathers before them.
So when the registrar finally called us into her office so we could sign over our single lives to one another, and the moment came for me to write into existence the new manifestation of the Mean Ferret, in one fell swoop of the pen, I gave up my given, girlhood middle name, Carol, which is also my mother's name, and became Megan MaidenName Surname. And for three weeks out of the month, that's who I am.
But long about the middle of that fourth week, the week we're in right at this very moment, I become Megan Priscilla Maude Sybil Surname.
And those are the middle names I'm gonna use for purposes of this Middle Name Meme, because, that, afterall, is my PREROGATIVE, dangit!!! And I'll thank you VERY MUCH to keep your opinions to the contrary to yourself!!!
1. You have to post these rules before you give the facts.
2. You must list one fact that is somehow relevant to your life for each letter of their middle name. If you don’t have a middle name, use the middle name you would have liked to have had.
3. When you are tagged, you need to write your own blog post containing your own middle name game facts.
4. At the end of your blog post, you need to choose one person for each letter of your middle name to tag. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
P is for Persnickety. As in Who in Sam Hill put this coffee cup back in the cabinet with the handle pointing to the RIGHT? What kind of MORON doesn't KNOW that the HANDLE of a COFFEE MUG goes on the LEFT, so I can grab the MUG out of the cabinet with my LEFT HAND while I SIMULTANEOUSLY grab the COFFEE POT with my right hand and pour without having to pause and shuffle, thereby delivering coffee down gullet and caffeine into brain with not a millisecond of time wasted. ECONOMY OF MOTION, people. COME ON!
M is for Mental. As in OHMYGOSH WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT? Get your crummy eyeballs off of me this instant, they make me SICK, all round and googly and questioning and WEIRD. What am I a one-woman side show that you have to be STARING AT ME all the time? STOP IT RIGHT NOW YOU'RE HURTING MY FEELINGS YOU COLD, HEARTLESS OGRE. Sob! No one loves me... No one's ever loved me... I am the most unloveliest of unloved souls on the face of this planet!! Sob sob sob!!!
S is for Starving. As in YESSSSS! YESSSS! Look at this! I CAN load an entire 40 oz. tub of Jif® onto this 1 1b. Hershey® bar! Sure the chocolate hangs over the edges of the graham crackers a little, but the peanut butter's staying up fine and look! It's holding the 2 lb. bag of Cheetos on, too. Come to Mama, sweet snack of love!
What's your middle name this week?