Emily and Matt

Hello blog land. No updates on bread baking, but I’m almost out of the loaf that I bought for Matt and managed to eat all by myself. This post is actually one I never got around to publishing before the wedding. Like food on the ground for less than 10 seconds, this one is still good. Enjoy!

In reading wedding blogs and forums, it’s interesting to see that many betrothed women are not changing their names. I, for one, am anxious to change my name. Mom and dad — it’s not that Atwood is a bad name. I really love it. I’ve had people tell me that it’s a perfect writer’s name. Sure, there was that boy Patrick in third grade who always called me “Itwood,” “Ofwood,” “Bewood,” etc., but the playground taunting didn’t really come into affect until I interned at a big company.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t change this,” my boss told me. “I guess your parents weren’t really thinking about email addresses when they named you.”

Yes, my first initial with my last name becomes: eatwood. As much as I tell people my email address is “E for Emily and Atwood,” they write it down and say “Oh, eat wood! Ha!” Sometimes a coworker will walk by my desk, mutter it out loud and laugh.

And then there was the woman who said, “Eat wood! That’s great! Like, go suck an egg! Go eat wood!”

Now, unless you lived with me during my last year in college (or you presented me with one major diamond beauty), you’re not allowed to call me that.

(Post-wedding Emily here, and you also can’t call me that because my name is officially and legally changed.)