Well, quite a bit, it seems. People tend to love or hate their names. I rarely hear anyone who has a middle-ground opinion about their own name.
Cari is a pretty good name. At least, once you get past the confusion. I am NOT:
- Carl (as in, the man’s name)
- Car-eye (I have no idea why people want to say it this way)
- Curry – that’s an Indian spice
- Carrie – I once did spell my name that way (it’s a nickname, so I have leeway), but then this movie came along when I was a little kid and made my life a nightmare. I recently noticed a preview for an all-new modern version, which I dread because, let’s face it folks, not only kids can be mean. Grown-ups can be downright cruel.
- Carry – this is a verb, as in “cash and carry”
I’m not even going to get started on my last name – both my maiden and married names carry instant joke-a-thon potential.
Point of interest: I only took on the name Cari when my friends (circa the toddler years) couldn’t pronounce my “real” name – Carolyn. I don’t remember much about how they pronounced it (after all, I was probably still in diapers at the time), but I can tell you that in elementary school, one of my friends’ little sister called me Calendar. That was probably the final straw. I always thought it would be easier to be Caroline, or even Andrea (my sister). Even way back when I was born, it was an old-fashioned name in decline.
But Cari suits me, and heck, it’s what everyone calls me, so I guess it’s mine for keeps.