Name Game...

Today I went to get a passport and inadvertently filled out the incorrect spelling of my name; which so happens to be the way that I've been spelling my name for the last 20 years. The mishap caused more of a stink than I would have liked. You see...my parents kinda misspelled my name. It's spelled in a way which would invite most people to mispronounce it because it is grammatically incorrect for that pronunciation. So by the wave of a pen in about 3rd or 4th grade it was changed and another vowel was added. This has caused me nothing but trouble in my adult years. Because my documents vary from place to place.

So as I quickly approach 30, I decided today that I would change the way in which my name is spelled or the whole fckning thing all together. This thought is profound because it's so not me. But as I walked back to work from the post office I realized that there may be some symbolism to this ordeal.

Maybe the spelling of my name at birth is the real me and the misspelling is an altered version of me after being old enough to be formally introduced to disfunct. This sht is cray-zee. I'm like so curious and excited to see what I decide.

But yeah, I've had enough of being 2 vowels one day and 3 the next.

What's a name anyway? Why do we have to carry around some word that our parents wanted us to be called.

I used to think that people who changed their name were crazy. Now I think that they are liberators. Leaders of their own destiny...

But which am I...