Note to Mom and Dad: skip this entry. Seriously, youâ€™ve gone this long without what Iâ€™m about to share, thereâ€™s no need to internalize it now.
Everyone likes to be remembered, right? Itâ€™s particularly a charge if someone who didnâ€™t need to remember your name does, the next time they meet you. Iâ€™ve always gone out of my way to note names, partly due to my own name and the irritation I feel when people get it wrong (especially, more than once), and also due to Sister Bernadine. Sister B. worked in my high school office and knew the name of every single student and, more than likely, all their siblings. It was, at times, creepy. I always thought it was cool to have a memory like that; itâ€™s on my list of items that cannot be bought that I would totally buy.
My parents, in their groovy 1970s wisdom, gave me a gift. When they decided to name me Marijean it was in recognition that, in all likelihood, I would be their last child. They chose to combine their names; my mom is Jean, my dad is George Anthony Mari. Heâ€™s French. Whatever. So in 1970 I became Marijean; thus saving me from being named Barbie (my sistersâ€™ pick) or Patricia Jean (PJ) their compromise. They kept the Patricia as my middle name and, as those close to me know, you can call me MJ, but only if Iâ€™ve given you permission (itâ€™s nonverbal and understood; youâ€™ll know if itâ€™s OK to call me MJ).
Growing up, I hated my name. It was different when I wanted to be same. It was weird, not cool and people got it wrong. A lot. Plus, everyone else was named Jennifer.
Then, adulthood: the internet, and epiphany; angelsâ€™ choirs, sparkling lights, microphone headsets; and magic.
Spell check changed my life.
The first time it happened, the CFO of the company I worked for, a straight-laced accountant, of course, approached me with a giggle and a twinkle in his eye. â€œDid you know,â€ he asked mischievously, â€œthat when you spell check your name it pulls up marijuana?â€
YES, I know. It IS hilarious and NO my parents are not hippies. I always finish the story by telling people to please not tell my parents, that they’re really conservative and wouldn’t find the humor at all.
The second greatest attribute of my name is this: it is original and totally googleable. If you Google me, itâ€™s all me, baby. Thereâ€™s no wondering if itâ€™s some other Marijean Jaggers. Nope, right there is a history of what Iâ€™ve been up to, writing, where Iâ€™ve been working, etc. Thatâ€™s good, right? Well, itâ€™s handy, as long as I keep my nose clean and keep doing a good job, I guess.
So, Mom and Dad, if you were stubborn and continued to read past the warning then, thank you both; I love my name. It sure makes great cocktail party conversation and almost everyone remembers my name (and enjoys spelling it right) later.
There’s also a Marijean Trew (dead link but cached at Google), co-author of a book of children’s stories.
Any relation? 😉
Pingback: STLWorkingMom » Blog Archive » Five things
Enjoyed you blog! Too funny! Turns out I have a name like yours… A combination of mom’s middle (Lynn) and Dad’s first (James). I’m grateful they decided on J’Lynn instead of Jimmilynn! Have always dreaded the first day of school when every teacher made their attempt to butcher it, but I learned flexibility and no longer have the desire to correct those who remember me as “julie” or “linda”. It’s assumed someone’s calling for me if they pause, stumble or use a name beginning w/ a J or an L!
I had the opposite result when I googled myself. There are several of “me” out there.
Pleased to have “met” another uniquely named gal!
Well….I certainly identify with what you are saying. Everyone in my area loves to bring up the whole spell check thing. I am reminded at least 10 times during the year. So how exactly do you pronounce your name? I can remember my dad correcting people all the time while I was growing up. “It’s not ‘Mary-jean’ it’s ‘Mara-jean’, you know…like ‘Marijuana’…” Now why couldn’t he use the word ‘Marigold’ to express the correct pronounciation??
No, my parents weren’t hippies either. We were the strict church-going people type. My parents were discussing what to name me prior to my birth. My mom liked Jean. My dad wanted to name me Mary – after my mom. It turns out that my brother, who was four at the time, very innocently says “Well, I don’t know what your are going to call her but I am going to call her Marijean”. So where did Mara-jean fit in? I think my dad just wanted to be funny.
And I am ok with some people calling me MJ (my dad hates that) but I’m like you….there are only a few and they know who they are.
Marijean L Higgins
Really? Don’t get me wrong, I’m in agreement with you partially, but when you state something like this you have to be prepared to back it up.