Don't call me Mrs. Washburn
I won't get mad if you call me "Mrs. Washburn," but I probably won't respond either, because I'll assume you're trying to get Sandy Washburn's attention, rather than mine. (You can just call me Bliss, but Ms. Khaw would be fine, too.)
I'm not just trying to be contradictory — I have full respect for those who choose to adopt a centuries-old tradition. And my decision not to take Dan's name is no personal affront to him and the Washburns. I have no problem with the Washburn name — I think it's a perfectly wonderful family name. But like any other family name, it's not my family name. I can still remember being rather bewildered as a little girl when I first found out that my mother had not always been a Khaw. I asked her if it was difficult to start signing her name as "Khaw" rather than her maiden name after she got married, thinking I would never be able to sign my name as anything but "Khaw." Somehow it would never feel quite right.
I also can't say that I've ever liked the idea of being forced to go through the tremendous hassle of officially changing my name on everything from bank accounts to various forms of ID ... especially on any sort of official document that has anything to do with China. Just the thought of all that inevitable running around, confusion, paperwork and red-stamping scares me.
We just got back late last night from an amazing wedding ceremony and honeymoon in Koh Samui, Thailand. No signs at all that a military coup had just taken place in the country just weeks before. The sun came out just in time for our ceremony. The staff at the