The Great Name Change

I wrestled with my decision on changing my name after marriage. I'm a Sullivan, born and raised. It's not only awesomely Irish (much like myself) but it gives off a sense of elegance, legacy, importance (much unlike myself, but something I can at least strive for). It's beautiful. It's sophisticated. It's cause for laugh when people mispronounce it. It's well known. I love it. I just plain love it.

Then I meet Ken. He's wonderful. He's my soul mate. He's going to be the man I spend my life with. He has the last name Mendez. Mendez is not awesomely Irish. It's ethnic in it's own right, but not in the way I am. I'm a freckled face red headed, blue eyed, pale skinned girl. Nothing about my looks says Mendez. I know we could both just keep our own names, but I want to be a family. I want our kids to have the same last name as both of us. Ken being the loving man he is offered to take my last name. I seriously considered this. Ken looks more like a Sullivan than I do a Mendez. And it's not like Ken's family's attached to the name. Ken's mom went through the same thing when she married his dad who was also willing to take her name. But like my mother in law, I too realized that anyone that wonderful deserved to be honored.

So the decision is made. I too will be a Mendez. As for Sullivan? Well I never liked my old middle name anyways. Now to make the decision legal. First was the headache of trying to find out where the marriage license was. I thought it was left at the church but no one from the church could tell me such. Turns out the church was on top of things and turned it in already. I was able to pick it up no problem. Fast forward through 3 busy weeks and I realize I should actually start to change my name before we get to our 1st anniversary. They say the best first stop is going to the social security office. Apparently there's an office in Gilroy. I got there about 9:25, by 9:30 I was talking to someone. I got to answer all kinds of fun questions to prove who I was. I say this sarcastically of course as I just answered my parents names and the city I was born in. I guess that's enough these days. We did have this fun exchange:

SS lady: Now, the next question is voluntary. We are wondering what ethnicity-
Me: I'm white.
SS lady: Thank you. I hate having to do that whole spiel.

That was all. I'll get my card in about 2 weeks. Feeling like I was on a role I headed over to the dreaded DMV. I got a spot right in front. I walk in and get my form to have a new license. As stressed out as I was filling out the form (Do I put my new name or my old name? I don't want to ask the lady at the desk, she seemed mean and annoyed I didn't know where to take a number...), I turned it in and went to sit down only to be called to a window right away. They took my form, renewed my license after a quick test, and took a new picture. I wished that I had put on some make up or at least brushed my hair. But the lady was nice and said the picture looked fine. So I walked out of the DMV within 30 minutes. The entire name change process took only an hour, and that was counting driving down to Gilroy. I don't know what all these crazy women are complaining about. That was a breeze.