What's in a name?

I'm not sure if you know this about me or not, but I'm pretty particular about my name.

*pause for smirking at my sarcasm*

Names are an interesting part of our identity. On my birth certificate, I am listed as Emma Claire Miller, Emma Claire being my first name. As the oh so precocious 5 year old that I was entering grade school, I was given the choice as to what I would like to be called. I opted for Emma, which I was for years. Entering university, I decided to take on my full name again, acknowledging that it might help set me apart from the crowd, as well as liking the way it sounds. It was a struggle that didn't go over as well as I'd hoped. Entering my professional career, I've been very much more stringent in regards to this. The result of all my years is that there are people all over the place referring to me in all sorts of different ways. I've been Em, Emma, Emmers, Emma Claire, EC, EmC, Cheeseburger, Sr, Frog, Hammish, Princess.... (that last one is what my momma calls me. It's had an obvious influence on how I've turned out). I'm about to go through the whole excitement of explaining to my family why I'm referred to as Emma Claire now (they don't particularly understand my concern over what anyone should refer to me as, especially seeing as I'm just an actress... go figure) as well as spending the next few weeks introducing myself in the following manner:

"Hi, my name is Emma Claire Miller."

"Nice to meet you, Emma."

"Actually, it's Emma Claire."

"Oh, Claire, sorry."

"No no, Emma Claire. Both names."

"Both names? (insert quizzical look here) Oh... alright then."

The reason for all this back story is that about 20 hours ago, Heather and I booked in for our flight to Glasgow. We were informed that we were NOT going to be granted our upgrade to Premium Class, that my mum had so awesomely bought for us. Apparently the airline switched the aircrafts, leading to a seating change, resulting in about a dozen people who would not be enjoying extra leg room, select dinners, and (most importantly) complimentary drinks. The girl at the desk, who had obviously been dealing with this issue for the whole first hour of her shift, and not seeing the end in sight, was as nice as she could be, considering we were upset and there was really nothing she could do. We left the desk, a bit pissed off, but what can you do, only to look down at my ticket, under which all the baggage tags were listed, to see that I, Emma Claire Miller, was not getting on to this flight.

Flight number   Gate number   Departure time     Miller/Mrs. Rowena

Really glad that she had my name on my passport sitting infront of her face, right next to my name on the list of 'disappointed no longer first classers'.

Rowena... that's a new one.

All said and done, the tix were changed, we had 8 hours of non-sleeping flight, I next to a two year old in his parents' lap, Heather next to the makey-outy newly weds, reached Glasgow, were picked up and dropped off, have supped and rested, soon to be to bed... and hopefully Miller/Mrs. Rowena made it to her destination too.