It’s not a big secret; just a little baby one. Huddle up. My name isn’t really Kari. I mean, it is Kari, but it’s really Carrie. I changed the spelling when I was 13 for no reason at all. It’s not my fault though. My dad started things off right by spelling it Carry on my birth certificate. Carry is a verb not a name, in case we aren’t clear on that. It’s fine though. One daughter out of six children and you make her a verb—no biggie. High five for the effort there dad.
My dad (who believes himself never to be wrong) claims he spelled it Carry on purpose so he could
tell ask me to carry things for him. Good one, dad. I heard that joke about every two minutes growing up— “Carrie will you carry this” hardee, har, har. Of course my dad will deny all of this. I can hear him now– “I never said that!” Sure dad. I just hallucinated all the way through my childhood, that’s it.
Actually, when I heard “Carrie will you carry this” is the only time I ever heard myself called Carrie because my dad always just called me “girl.” I guess when you’re the only female running around it works but I still have a complex about it. My mom and my brothers just called me “sis” and still do. The boys (my brothers) were just “the boys”…although none of them were ever verbs. To level the playing field I would like to announce all their real names: Robert, William, Michael, Bradford, and Christopher. Shall we do middle names too? Yes, I think so: Robert Lee (the 2nd, mind you), William Eugene, Michael Harold, Bradford Neal, and Christopher Thomas. Bam. It’s on the internet. That’s what “the boys” get for not reading this—no say whatsoever when their full names are revealed on the ol internet. Wahahahaha <———————– Laugh of power and conniving. It’s okay, none of their real names are even that bad so we can all move on.
Changing the spelling of my name was fun until it was confusing. When I went to college, I had to list my legal name on everything but then when I turned in exams and such I would spell it the super awesome way with a K. Some of my teachers seriously started to question whether I even knew how to spell my name.
After college came work and marriage and the confusion continued. Everything legal has to have it spelled with a C. This always goes down the same way: I’m at the bank, new job, wherever filling out paperwork. I sign my name first with a K and then realize it doesn’t match my license and such and won’t fly. So I, blushing, try to explain that, oh actually, I spelled my name wrong on that…I’ll just ex that out and try again. This is of course not the best way to open a bank account or start a new job. The people at the bank always look at me like I’m a criminal trying to steal someone’s identity.
After I got married and changed my last time, I tried to legally change the spelling of my first name to end the confusion once and for all. They wouldn’t let me do it. Can you believe that? Geez. It’s my name isn’t it. Well, at least that’s what I told my parents in junior high when refusing to spell it the “right way” as they call it.
Oh, and to rub it in that I spell my name the “wrong way” my parents started spelling everything the wrong way. My dad spells daddy “dadi.” Are you kidding me? My parents have always called me Ladybug. I have no idea why. You would think if you had a nickname your whole life you would remember some story or reason as to why. Nope. No idea. Anyway, now my parents spell it Ladibug. Funny aren’t they? It wasn’t that bad until I started blogging and my mother decided to go ahead and call me Ladibug in all of her comments. Oh good, she’s using my childhood nickname…spelled wrong 8/
It’s okay. I get my vengeance by telling stories about them on the internet. Who knows what I’ll decide to talk about next. I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it though…it’s just your whole life spelled out on the World Wide Web :]