Mr. and Mrs. Smith

Every girl, I would recon, at one point in her life has made a list of qualities that she desires in the perfect boyfriend (and as you grow up, it becomes 'the perfect man'). When I was younger (14 or so) I wanted someone who wasn't a sloppy kisser, would hold my hand in front of his friends and would care about the things I liked. When I was in high school, I wanted someone athletic who was nice to his family and would remember that I really liked slurpees. I'm sure by the time I'm 30, my standards will be simple enough to include "relatively attractive, doesn't smell and has a steady job". But as a girl, something that is always somewhere in the back of your mind is the last name. Not quite as important as a sense of humor, but definitely up there along with sports team allegiance and favorite band.

A girl grows up knowing that along with finding and marrying the right man someday (or woman, or whatever, etc) - she also has the option of a new last name. I remember being as young as 5, and carefully printing out the name "Brianna Wheeler" on the inside of my notebook, inspecting it to see how it looked. Since David Wheeler, the blond hair, freckled boy who sat next to me in music had already asked me to marry him, I thought it was only appropriate. I would practice my new signature with my friends in junior high, because when you're in love for the first time, you ALWAYS think that it's going to last forever (because why would you ever want to leave the captain of the soccer team?). And I don't think this is unique to me - it's a widespread girl phenomenon.

My point, however, is that a bad last name doesn't bode well for an otherwise decent guy. For example, my mom fell in love and was engaged to Michael Dix, an englishman with two sons (one named Harry ... yes, I'm serious. Harry Dix). If they had gotten married, it would have been the Young-Dix wedding. And even more applicably, my ex-boyfriend (bless his heart, but still) had the last name Minshall, which I absolutely HATED. Don't ask me why, but the thought of going through life as Brianna Minshall made me buggy. It sounded so harsh! It's not to say that his last name is the reason it didn't work out between us, but there was nothing appealing about it. I guess when you have a last name like Johnson, you're eager to trade it in for something better -not eager in a Mary Anne Heppler kind of way, but still looking forward to it-. That's why my friend Max Summerlee and I had a good deal going: I would use him for his last name, and he would use me for my airline passes. Now there's a good deal if I ever heard of one.

And while we're on the subject of relationships, how many people out there have back ups? The tried and true friend who you've always had a little thing for, who you make a pact with along the lines that the two of you will get married if neither of you has found someone by the time you're, say, 30. I don't remember who mine is (although I think I've made a deal with Adam, at some point), but I DO remember a boy in high school who, we discovered at a sleepover, was the back up for 7 girls. We all 'dumped' him the next day.

Ahhh high school. I'm glad I'm not that inmature anymore ;)
Please forgive this indulgant dip back into puppy-love teenagerhood. Sometimes being an adult in a logical adult relationship isn't as much fun as being 16 and thinking you've found the one.