Some people are born with their signature in mind. Some people try to copy their parents or the style of the famous basketball player that left his Hancock on their basketball.
I’ve only gotten as far as knowing it has to include an A.
And then it all goes to hell.
Like everything else in my life, I’m overanaylzing. A for Ali? or A for Allison?
I have a long last name, which complicates matters. My mum’s maiden name, on the other hand, is decicively short. Thus, I’ve tossed around the idea of taking on her maiden name instead.
- For legal and safety measures, let us assume my last name was Huntsburge and my mum’s maiden name was Burk. -
I can go with the short summary of my name: Ali Burk or I can elongate it: Allison Huntsburge.
Or any of the variations that occur in between.
For good measure – or rather to ensure that the situation is as complicated as possible – consider my middle name (let us assume it is Elizabeth).
With this in mind, I’ve been known to drop my last name completely and use my middle name instead.
It is at this point where the pointlessness becomes superficially ridiculous.
But I can’t resist. I must ponder the issue.
For not only the content of the signature but HOW am I to sign it?
Loopy letters? Crossing my H in an elaborate swoop? Should I make it short and fast? Long and dignified?
I have little doubt that at some point I will be called out on this unfortunate situation of mine by a waiter or more likely, the bank, that realizes the apparent inconsistancy in my signature.
Most times I try to sign illegibly with the main letters (A and H) distinct and the rest rather blandly blurred together.
I can’t help but feel unwhole, however, without a signature to call my own.
I can only guess that when I finally feel I’ve accepted myself that I will discover the signature that was meant to represent Me.
