When in France...

I measured myself for my new pastry jackets (Nate helped). I had to email the measurements to the school and tell them what name I want embroidered. Good question. After consulting with a couple friends, I decided to go with Jacqueline. I may as well take advantage of my already French name. It'll feel like I'm back in my high school French class again. That's what I went by. And that was lucky as there were two Jackie's. I mean, Jacqueline is my official given name, but no one has ever used it. When I first graduated from Ad school, I put it on my business cards in an effort to sound more professional. Or start a new identity of some sort. But it never worked. People naturally shorten it. Or they'd ask me point blank if I go by anything else. I gave up quickly. I've always been much too agreeable. My parents don't call me Jacqueline either. Not even when I was in trouble. They do, however, sometimes call me Jacquelino. But that's not the same. In Australia I pretty much went by Jack or Jacks. The Aussies crop every word they can. I guess Nate calls me Jacqueline occasionally. He's the only one.


But France will be a different story entirely. Jacqueline will roll off their French tongues with a beautiful melodic ring. And I'll have it sewn onto my pastry jacket so they can't forget. And no one will know me as anything else. In fact, they won't know that Jackie even exists. Mon Dieu!