“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose/By any other name would smell as sweet”. Ummm… okay, Shakespeare. That’s why Juliet fell in love with Romeo and not some guy named Fred. Yeah, somehow, I’m not buying the names are meaningless sales spiel. Why? Because names aren’t meaningless. They’re important. That’s why most parents spend the entire nine months trying to decide on one (I, on the other hand, was named after the toilet paper and one of my brothers was named after a box of tissues). They set expectations, invoking feelings and passions. For the rest of your life. I know this first hand. Who do you picture when you hear the name Kimber Chin (or, if you prefer, the Dr. Seuss version Kim Chin)? Perhaps Lucy Liu from Charles Angels and Kill Bill? Or Ziyi Zhang from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon? Or… I’ll stop naming gorgeous Asian actresses now before I get depressed. You see, that’s SO not me. Even the top Photoshop expert in the world (i.e. my hubby or so he thinks) can’t make me look like Lucy Liu. I had to marry to get that last name. My background is Irish, my two…