I hate it when my last name is pronounce Ver-Says.
Versace.
Ok, kidding. It’s really pronounced Luxury Yacht.
I’d expect less FAQs, more FSBs.
That’s Frequently Screamed Beggings.
Q: Oh, please, make it stop!
A: I’m sorry, we can’t do that right now.
Q: Oh god, what do you want?!?
A: We want you to die.
And so forth.
We need an I salute you! smiley. Remind me to give you one of those perfect cookies.
I have a Thai friend who spells her first name Lane, but pronounces it Lani, like the Hawaiian name. I suspect some issue with how to convert her name into English characters.
Coming in from the other end–having been one of about a hojillion Me(a)g(g)(h)ans in my classes post-gradeschool*–I would have absolutely *loved *to have had a unique name (or even a less common one for my generation). I suspect that unusual names are like freckles: the kids who had them often didn’t want them, and those of us who didn’t, wanted them.
*I was the only white kid in my class for most of K through 8.
Honeyplease. Everyone knows it’s GOW-chee.
Fuck those racks. They never had any Neils on them. Neils!
I mean, we were the first to walk on the Moon! We wrote Sweet Caroline and Breaking Up Is Hard To Do! We were sort of the lead singer of Motley Crue! We were the drummer from Rush! We were half of Simon and Garfunkel and the Pet Shop Boys! A quarter of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young! We were Doogie Howser (M.D.)!
This was in Britain, I might add, where we were also the Leader of Her Majesty’s Most Loyal Opposition in the United Kingdom for the last nine years of the Thatcher government. Also, carrying the Welsh rugby team.
So, as I say, fuck those racks.
Can we just motorboat them instead?
We can do both.
My friend’s cousin’s girlfriend is named Typhany. That’s pronounced “tiffany”. She’s as white and suburban as I am. I think there may have been a Welsh influence from names like “Myfwany” though.
Wait, what? Skald’s black? I thought he was Evil Genius-American. 
Depending on your personal proclivities, you might want to give some thought to the order, though.
You say that like the two are mutually exclusive.
Well, there’s more than one rack.
Tsk. Slut.
Are you sure it isn’t Sarah Bryan-Miller?
Positive.
She doesn’t go by Sarah Bryan, she goes by Bryan Miller.
That is, her friends call her “Bryan”.
While my son Neil also hates those racks, you wrote plays, not songs.
(Yes I know Paul wrote plays too, I am just saying…)
My shame knows no bounds.
“Evil” is not a heritage. It’s a life-style choice. We even have a magazine.
I am absolutely positive.
It’s a family affliction, one applied to one girl per generation in my mother’s (Savannah, Georgia) family: My aunt was Bryan, my grandmother’s cousin was Bryan, my great-grandmother was Bryan…
Having a name like Bryan definitely builds character.
As a high school English teacher, I spend the month of September trying to learn anywhere between 75-100 names. The ones that confuse me the most are the very close, but not quite names:
Kaileigh, Caileigh, Caileen, Cailin (spread over three classes)
and
Mikayla, Michela, Michaela (all in one class…we resorted to last names).
I suppose their payback is the butchering of my 10-letters-long last name that’s half vowels. Originality is nice (my parents gave my siblings and I unique names), but it seems futile when the quest for originality converges with the quest of several others in the same town at the same time. Is there such a thing as a “pursuing originality when you really have none so you copy what you think is original” meme?
I suppose in 15 years or so, I should be anticipating 5 variations each on the names Edward, Jacob, and Bella. :rolleyes: