Emery Explosion.

I've always loved having my name. I love that I was named after some old man in a movie. I love that it's a unique name, but not TOO unique-- like Shanaqkwahleeanna or Fidget or something. I love that it's typically a man's name and I love how no one ever believes me when I tell them that.

I love how no one else I know has the same name as I do.

But that all changed a few days ago.

First, I learned that someone who goes to my church, whom I don't know personally, just adopted a baby girl named Emery Lou.

The next day, while talking to my friend Ryan, I discovered that another couple just had a baby girl and they were all excited about the name they 'found'. Yep... another mini Emery.

The day after that, I was sitting in the play area at the mall watching Ezra poke the foam dog in the eyes, when I heard a mom and dad talking to their little girl who was about 4 years old. Her name? Shanaqkwahleeanna. HAHA just kidding. Her name was Emery.

I feel sortof sad about this. Although, I always knew this day would come. I'm lucky to have made it 24 years without ever bumping into another female Emery in my life. Actually, that's not true. I was at the mall a few years ago when I still lived in Reno, and there was this little blonde girl who couldn't have been more than 3 years old playing on the chair next to me. Her mother was sitting a few tables away, and she kept looking right at me and saying, "Emery! ... Emery! ... HEY! Are you LISTENING to me, Emery?!" And I was feeling really confused and I kept just trying to smile and wave at her- and then she was looking all confused, and- well, it turns out the little girl was an Emery and I ended up looking like a creepy doofus in need of supervision.

Come to think of it, the only other Emery I've ever met happened in a very similar situation. I was in a college textbook store in California, buying some books for the semester, when one of the ladies that worked at the store told a customer that her employee could help her find the book she needed. The woman turned and was looking right at me and she said, "Emery! This girl needs help finding such-and-such a book. Show her where it is please." I remember I blushed crimson and started to stammer as I wondered if I'd accidentally become an employee of the bookstore while I was browsing the shelves of textbooks somehow. That's when a young guy who was standing right behind me turned and said, "Sure thing! Right this way, ma'am."

Emery the Mineral.

Emery the Board.

and Emery the Band.


So, maybe I'm just being lame and I need to suck it up and embrace the fact that my name just might become as popular as 'Sarah' or 'Amy' in the next decade or so, but part of me freaks out about that. So much of who I am is wrapped up in my name. It has always made me feel set apart... special.... different somehow. It has always given me confidence and pride to be the only one of me.

What if, someday, I desire to run for a political office or public school board? What if I drag out the old campaign posters from all the High School Student Council election days and enthusiastically remind everyone to "Burn it in your memory-- Vote for Emery!" ? What if the people see the poster and have to lean over and ask eachother "Which Emery is that? The dark haired one? Or the one that's overly hyped-out about things that aren't a big deal and never quite grew into her arms?"

WHAT THEN?!?!

*head explodes*