I’ve never read Antony and Cleopatra so this is the first I’ve seen of it. That’s one of the most beautiful names I’ve ever heard. I said it out loud to myself a few times. It just flows. Cool for you! I don’t blame you for being ticked off when people pronounce it wrong.
I have problems both ways. I’m a Vickie. That’s what it says on the birth certificate. I’m not a Victoria, but I love the name so people can call me that (only one person ever does). I am NOT a Vic/Vick and if I’m called that I’ll stare daggers. My dad calls me Vic, but I let him get away with it. No one else though. People are always spelling it wrong too, even when they’ve seen it written countless times. It’s not Vicki. It’s not Vicky. It’s especially not Vickey, which brings back horrible memories of childhood taunts (“V-i-c…k-e-y…M-o-u-s-e” ACK!). It’s just Vickie. I don’t like it, but I’m used to it.
My name is Richard
Both of my parents come from parts of Massachusetts where everyone is Billy/Marky/Paulie/Richie/Bobby/Jimmy/Dicky*/whatever-y. So for the first decade or so of my life I was Richy/Richie. At ten or twelve I decided it was a little kid’s name and henceforth I would be Rich or Richard. Got pretty much everyone to agree to it (some relatives and old friends long unseen would occasionally screw up to my consternation. One of the benefits of being a navy brat was that to get everyone to change your name required only introducing yourself to everyone differently after moving).
And so for the next fifteen years I was Richard or, more often, Rich. Then I moved out here on Long Island, which apparently is “-y” territory. All of a sudden I am Richie again. I felt too awkward saying “Dammit! Richie is a kid’s name” given that: a) I was new and didn’t know everyone, and b) there were three other Rich’s, all of whom occasionally called Richie. In retrospect, objecting to it would have virtually guaranteed being called Richie forever. As it is with the embarrassment of Riches at my job we are called by last name (mine often has “-y” appended)
*I had an Uncle Dicky. One of many Richards I was collectively named after.
Well, from the tone it was real clear it was being said in a derogatory way (in the baby-talk fashion). Plus the person is a major a-hole.
They almost named me Dennis, but it was the 50’s and they were concerned about me being called Dennis the Menace.
And don’t get me started on my middle name, which is very strange. The only other people I’ve ever come across with the name are my grandfather and a bad guy in an Elmore Leonard novel.
Whenever I write my name I always use Michael, never Mike. I don’t know why, I guess I just like formal names better.
We have three children named Catherine, Elizabeth, and Matthew. We address them as… Catherine, Elizabeth, and Matthew. 
I’m Jacquilynne. See, it even says so up there ^^^.
I am willing to be referred to as Jacq, since I know that’s just you taking a quick shortcut with my name, especially in writing, since I know you don’t know how to spell it. Jacqui, however, is a different name, one that doesn’t happen to be mine. My family gets to call me Jacqui, they’re grandfathered in on the grounds that I willingly went by that name until I graduated high school.
But when I graduated, I moved several thousand miles away and developed a new and entirely different group of colleagues and friends. Not one of them has ever heard me refer to myself as Jacqui, sign something Jacqui, or give any indication that I think it’s acceptable. Most of them have probably heard me tell someone else - if not them personally - that I prefer not to be called Jacqui. And yet people do it. People who met me mere minutes ago, even.
Also, I’d like to say to the people who ask me if I’m sure it’s spelled that way, that I am, indeed, sure. I learned to spell my name when I was 2 years old, and have since verified it against my birth certificate. Also, my mother assures me the spelling was entirely intentional.
I’d just go by my middle name, but then people would no doubt call me Andie.
I find it extremely annoying when people call me by my full given name after I’ve told them what I go by. Seriously who the hell goes by Timothy? It sounds so silly and childish. Besides Timothys Leary and Dalton I can’t think of anybody. Dalton is British so I don’t know, maybe its more exeptable there. Timmy is even rairer. I’ve know Jimmy’s, Billy’s, and Tommys but I’ve never met a grown man who went by Timmy.
I’m Jonathan. I really hate being called Jon, but it happens so frequently that I don’t even think about it anymore.
I developed this attitude because when I was young, there would be four other Johns in the class and I wanted to be the only Jonathan. By the time I got to college, everybody was Jonathan.
I can understand someone misspelling a name, but what kind of asshole asks you if you’re sure you know how to spell your own name? I know this happens, I’ve seen it happen, but damn.
Is that Gen-eh-vive or Jean-vi-ev?
I’ve heard it pronounced both ways. When I read it it comes across as Gen-eh-vive but I learned to say it as Jean-vi-ev so my mind crosses my tongue sometimes.
Me I’m lucky enough to have names that are uncommon enough now but not so uncommon that people don’t know how to spell them. Though lately I’ve been seeing a number of little girls with my middle name… and my first name was made fun of on National tv. The most I have to do is generally tell someone to add an e or an i in the appropriate place. There’s 3 ways to spell my name I just happen to use more letters than most.
I’ve never heard Lauren pronounced in any way but “Lawren.” Is that a function of where you’re from, or is it the same thing, or…? Of course, that way is kind of indestinguishable from Loren, but I think it’s usually spelled that way when it’s a man’s name.
My sister’s name is Erin. When she was little, she would pronounce it “Ewin.” My mom and I call her “Win” or “Winnie.” My dad gets furious when we do this, because “Erin is such a pretty name, and Winnie is stupid.”
My name is Kerry. I hate having to spell it out all the time (even with people who know me, and especially because I always have to spell out my last name as well), but I like that not a lot of people have it. I don’t mind being called Ker, and I don’t mind Kerr-bear most of the time. I was asked once if it was short for Caroline. When people see my name alone, I do occasionally get mistaken for a boy. But for the most part, I really like my name.
No one really messes with “Melissa” except a few relatives you haven’t gotten over the “Missy” that was attached to me as a small child. One guy in high school tried to get “Mel” to catch on, but I’ve never been fond of that one, and thankfully he was the only one who tried to shorten it that way. If some one called me that now, I probably wouldn’t look up. It just doesn’t seem like it refers to me.
I use “Liss” online alot, and I’m always surprised by how many people assume that’s short for “Elizabeth”. Are there really that many (any?) Elizabeth’s out there going by Liss?
I work with a woman named Bonna. My mother’s name is Donna, so I never had a problem catching on to Bonna, but I guess it’s a hard one for many. Most people hear and repeat “Bonnie” when she says her name, but we find Donna, Bonita, and even once a “Bwana” in notes and things addressed to her.
Heh. I bet you’ll enjoy the next presidential administration.
What? It’s a long way until 2008, and her name isn’t Jeb after all. 
My real name is a short version of a longer girls name that was very popular in the 70s.
Let’s take an example using another name:
Pretend my REAL name, on my birth certificate, is Gabby. Just plain Gabby.
And then people call me Gabrielle all the time, because they assume Gabby is short for Gabrielle.
Rar.
I generally default to the name someone was introduced to me as, unless it’s someone I’ve gotten really fond of, then I tend to drift toward the long form of their name if it’s been shortened. If they don’t like it, I stop, but somehow the long form of a name seems more dignified, so it’s really a sign of respect.
OK, now…
Hi, my name is Loretto. Not Loretta. Loretto. I will only correct you once, then I will say mean things to you and hurt your feelings. Oh, and if you see it in writing, or on my name tag, don’t tell me it’s spelled wrong. I’ll probably say something like, “What, did they put an A on the end?”
Oh, and do not take it upon yourself to call me Lori. Only my kid sister, who has known me as Lori since she was a zygote and therefore has the name ingrained in her neurological wiring. My mother is not even allowed to call me Lori.
Sometimes I wonder if the reason I’m having a hard time finding a job right now is because people see my name on the application, assume it’s misspelled and figure, “Well, if she can’t even spell her own name correctly…”
Because, you know, that is a mistake a person might make, spelling their own name wrong.
"Why yes, it’s a German name.
Yes it’s very common, there are a lot of people here with German names. No I’m not related to…"
“…”
“What*? I already know all about Christmas and Easter.”
*with special thanks to my 5th & 6th grade teacher.
My brother seems to think so. Pretty much all of his friends call him Pat. Our family calls him Patrick, partially to differentiate him from our aunt Pat, partly because we used to call him by his middle name. (My grandfather announced he wasn’t calling his grandson “a pansy Irish name” like Patrick, so he started calling him “Danny”. Yeah, I know. Try telling Grandpa, though.) I usually call him Dan-o or Butthead, though.
If it weren’t for the fact that he doesn’t mind being called Pat, I’d swear exgineer’s friend knew him. He’s pontificater of the highest order, to the point that some of my uncle’s friends used to call him “Cliffy.”
Me, I’m a Tamara. A tam-uh-ruh. Not a tah-mare-uh, and sure as hell not a tomorruh. Tam-uh-ruh. If I met you past 1994 or so, I am not a Tammy. My friends and their families call me Tam. If I have known you for five minutes, you may not call me Tam. You also may not call me Tamster, Tamola, or Tamaroonie. (I meet some of the weirdest, most presumptuous people.) There is only one person in the world who can call me TamTam without getting kneecapped, and you are not that person. If you can’t manage Tamara, you can call me by my last name. My last name, not my husband’s. If you can’t manage that either, I’d really prefer you just get out of my face.
I’ve had the same problem with my given name. It ends in “y”, but is not a nickname. It is in fact a fairly common name, and I cannot think of any other name it could possibly be derived from…but I’ve gotten “Is that short for something?” several times. Gah.
But at least, as a man, you probably don’t have to put up with people changing the “y” to an “ie” or “i” on you when they write your name down. Other people can spell their own names however they like, but I always feel that if my given name is spelled with an “i” it transforms from “reasonably respectable” to “bimbo cheerleader”. You might as well dot the “i” with a heart and write the whole thing in pink glitter.
Heh, My name is Daniel, and I have the opposite gripe. I really, really hate it when people call me Dan, especially when they follow it up with “the man.”