Ninth grade. Mr. Willey's Honors/AP Geography class. Waiting in the library for the bus to arrive to take us to Salt Lake City for RHSMUN. Obviously, very bored. So my two friends and I start flipping through the largest dictionary of names in the world. We looked up our own names. We looked at the surrounding names - names that are close to our own but a little more creative. I doubted my name would be in the dictionary - it's so unusual, you can't find it anywhere. But it was, and right beneath it was the name kerielle. Yes. It must be spelled with a lower case k. Leave me alone. And so it became a joke - we all had our close-to-real-name-nicknames. Mine was kerielle. And it grew on me. Certain people picked up on it and used it since then.
So the significance? If, no, cross that out, WHEN I get my own line of designer clothing, it will be called kerielle. It seems like designers are all known by one name - first, last, combination of the two or something completely irrelevant. Neither of my names are very cool. So...kerielle. Designer-worthy. At least, I think so.
That's the story.
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