Even after five years of marriage, I'm still getting accustomed to my married surname, Chan.

Growing up, my family had an unconventional last name: Quock. As our ancestors had begun immigrating to the United States from China earlier than most, they were not given the later, more common anglicized versions of Kwok or Kuo. It was rare for my family to come across another Quock; if we did, he or she was usually related.

Our family bonded over our unique last name.

As Quock is easily mistaken for Quack, we shared a good laugh when I received mail addressed to Dr. Quack. Who would want to patronize a quack doctor?

My parents have grown fond of ducks, and our cousin Ted has a collection of web-footed mascots. Quirky Quock Ted even journeyed to Rottnest Island, Australia (merely some 2,500 miles from Sydney) to visit marsupial quokkas in their natural environment.

When it came to alphabetization, many times Quock meant quick. At Costco, it was almost effortless to pick up developed photos; rarely were other envelopes marked with a Q.

In college, I and the one other student whose last name began with Q were able to register in a jiffy. It was a cinch to spot my name on practically any list.

After getting married, the hardest part about switching to Chan seemed to be the prodigious amount of paperwork. The name-changing procedures differed across the several dozen organizations that I needed to contact. After making the alterations on everything from my driver's license to employee badge to frequent flier accounts, I was finally finished.

The sense of relief was replaced by wistfulness as I regarded certain items that could not be changed, such as the baby bracelet I wore at birth, or my university degrees. I had been a Quock for most of my life; it seemed that I was leaving a part of myself behind.

There wasn't much time to reminisce, however. Almost immediately, I had to manage the popularity of my new surname. The IT department of my former workplace had to begin my e-mail address "monica.q.chan" instead of "monica.chan" because there was already another Monica Chan at the company.

"At least the initial Q will lend an aura of mystery to your name," quipped our corporate lawyer.

Even now, in my husband's organization, there are two other employees with first and last names identical to his.

Chan is about as widespread in China as Smith is in the United States, with Chen, Chin and Chun all being anglicized variants of the same family name. A quick glance in the Hawaiian Telcom phone book reveals no Quocks but a page full of Chans.

Even the spellchecker doesn't highlight Chan as it does Quock.

Humans, though, have more troubles with my married surname than computers. Although Quock appears more complex, I still find myself spelling out my new last name more often than not, as Chan is frequently mistaken for Chang or one of the variants mentioned above.

Yes, I still miss having Quock as my surname. However, there is something bonding about my husband, daughter and I all having the same last name, just as my 'ohana did when I was growing up. It is for that sense of connectedness that I plan to stick with Chan.

Monica Quock Chan is a freelance writer who lives in Honolulu with her husband and daughter.

Reach Monica Quock Chan at (Unknown address).