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I Lost My Name

It is official. This morning, I locked my doors, rolled up the windows and drove to the ghetto to change my name. There were no fewer than three "quick cash" shops and two pawn shops within sight of the Social Security office in Kansas City. There wasn't much activity at any of these fine establishments, however when I arrived at the office just before 9:00 am, there was a line waiting outside in the cold. I zipped up my coat, tucked my papers in my jacket and got in the back of the line. Not that I've ever been to Russia, but with the wind chill at negative fucking freezing, it felt a bit like waiting in line for bread in the bitter, unforgiving cold. What's worse is that inside the nice, toasty warm government office the security guard felt the need to shuffle around in the waiting area arranging magazines in order by date and putting chairs in perfect rows, rather than opening the door for all of us poor souls outside. I'm not kidding, I checked and he had lined up the chairs with the lines in the government tiled floor. I think that's a bit OCD, don't you?

When I finally got inside, the name change only took a few minutes. I had filled out my form in advance and had chosen to go process the form in person to avoid the loss of my precious identifying materials which consisted of a marriage license and my driver's license. The lady at the counter was impressed and processed the name change quickly. Despite her reminding me to sign the final form with my new name, I still hesitated like I was trying to divide 345,588,511 by 9,246 in my head. I left with a new piece of paper declaring me Jennifer Marie HisLastName. I got my new business cards yesterday, so I guess that makes it official... except for with the people at a major hotel chain who insist they need a faxed copy of my marriage certificate in order to change my name on my frequent guest account. I guess they take those things seriously!

Speaking of OCD, that reminds me of something else. Saddened by the news that it was indeed a lethal combination of cocaine and prescription pain killers that took yet another talented soul from our airwaves, I put in N***A Please, and am jamming out to a little O.D.B. I'm really not a big fan, but a certain song had all us little white girls shaking it at the Lake of the Ozarks one summer which inspired the purchase of the CD. Just a question for those who listen to rap music on a regular basis... what's up with the heavy breathing while recording rap music? There are at least two tracks on every rap cd I've ever listened to that incorporate the heavy breathing effect. Quite the different phenomenon seeing as the cd I was listening to prior to O.D.B. was Queen. They aren't so much into the heavy breathing.

Okay - it is seriously hard to write and concentrate while listening to "Hey Dirty." I keep bouncing.

I really don't have much else to write about today. I'm pretty much just trying to look productive and alert for another hour so that I can go home. Today, I'll share a picture with you of where I'd rather be right now...

I call it "Anywhere, but in my office."

3:59 p.m. - December 15, 2004

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