I'm baaack~ With power.

Hello, nettertubes. Long time no post. Not that you missed me.

And no, that wasn't me angsting. I was telling the truth.

But barring that, I must say that I return to you with happy news. My name change has been finalised, and I'm now running through the massive barage of paperwork to change EVERY document I've had up until now, so that it reflects what I feel is the truest form of myself; my name.

For those of you who even care, there is a reason behind my decision, and a method to my madness. For the longest time, since I was a child, I had hated my last name. It looked ugly, its colours were off, and people never pronounced it right. Oh, and I kept getting the lovely question "Is it French?" For the record, no. It wasn't. Shut up.

I won't get into the exact reason that finally pinned me into getting this done. I will say, however, that I feel damn liberated. Took me months to do, but in the end, that $137 cheque gave me something I don't think any sum of money could ever do again; spiritual independence.

And it's not like I'm denouncing my family by changing my name. Not at all. I kept my family informed and active during the entire process, albeit that I still wound up with some not-so-positive enthusiasm* after the fact. I'm merely seizing my own path in life, and doing it in progressive steps. The first one being to rid myself of one of the things I was tormented for as a child.

I'd finally decided in September, after starting University, that I'd wanted to change my name. I didn't know what to, and I didn't care how long it took, I just wanted it gone. So I enlisted the help of my friends, and a short while later I was met on MSN with a link that walked me through the process. Bookmark in browser, I then went to friends and family with the notion, asking for suggestions on a new name. For a short time I'd considered changing my middle name as well, because every girl and her sister has the same middle name (Especially if you're Canadian.)

The notion didn't last long, simply because the middle name was never the problem.

One day, my grandmother and I were discussing over laundry the various Irish names I could bestow upon myself. Why Irish? Because my grandmother, one of the precious few people in this world I will always respect, is a leprechaun. And I love her dearly. After much deliberation, we both came to the conclusion that I'd have just as much fun trying to get those names spelled right as I had with the then-current surname. So a new route was taken.

I then considered the geography of things. Dungannon, while being the little town that my grandmother grew up in, just didn't fit right with my first name. Neither did Omagh, one of the nearby towns where family friends reside. So we went metropolitan.

Belfast. Capital of Northern Ireland. Short, Irish, easy to spell, and to-the-point.

Then it was the lovely task of acquiring information for the paperwork, which was surprisingly easy to do, considering I didn't need anyone's permission to do so, I have no criminal record, and no shady financial history (yet. Fuck you, student loans and horribly overpriced tuition). Being the lazy ass that I was, it took me a good while to get off my ass and find a guarantor to prove that I'd lived here for the past year. Then it took me three months more to work up the nerve to walk into Town Hall and talk to the Commissioner of Oath and sign the papers.

Couple weeks later, I mail the application.

Couple months later, I get a letter back saying I needed a new guarantor 'cause Dad's** statement wasn't quite up to snuff. So I toddled on into my old high school and politely asked the principal to sign for me, and she did, bless her heart. <3

June 30, 2008, as my boyfriend and I are chilling in my room, my grandmother walks in and tells me I got a letter from the Registrar General. I flew into the kitchen, grabbed a knife from the drawer and tore the damn thing open so fast I thought I'd slice my hand.

Less than a minute later, I was in tears. In my hands was the change of name certificate I'd stewed over for months. I was free.

Two days later my new birth certificate arrived care of Purolator courier.

And now I'm getting it all updated. And loving every minute.

*My mother was apparently less than thrilled that I was changing my name, and since the idea's conception, when I'd originally told her, thought that I was kidding. Much confusion on my part, as well as Gran's.

**He's not my real dad, but damn if I don't love him as if he were. He's been there for me so many times, and I'm so grateful for it all.

Peace, Love, and MarioKart,
~Poindextra