In the paralell universe where I have kids, I totally want to name them so that their name makes a phrase... mine does, somewhat:
Haha, that's cool. I've got...
First: Blissful
Middle1: Rose of the Sea
Middle2: Who heals madness,
Last1: That son of Will (... meaning will/desire, of course)
Last2: She who is feared like the wolf.
Sometimes I hate my parents and sometimes I love them for giving me such a crazy name--it's especially awesome at graduation, when the reader can't pronounce 3/5 of it. Middle1 also has the alternate readings of "remembrance" and "famed love," while Middle2 can also be translated as "who has worth beyond beauty." My parents were thinking of another aspect, though, which amounts to "tenacious flower which brings beauty to dismal places."
And, for the story I promised. Basically, my mother took a horrible backpacking trip to Europe when she was fresh out of college. She nearly starved to death, got lost in Amsterdam's red light district, was ditched by the group she was traveling with, and so on. When she was in France, she literally knew how to say no food names but "bread," "milk," and "cheese," and when she tried to buy tomatoes they gave her rotten fruit. She was very sick and extremely shy after a lifetime of abuse, barely able to speak above a whisper.
So, it was this person who, weak and ill and tired, dragged herself down Le Boulevard Champs-Elysées in the shade. At the end, there was a pond where all the schoolchildren ran around like a swarm of starlings, sailing model ships. She watched them and, despite her heavy burdens, felt an odd sensation of blissful peace.
Thus Vector was named after a certain road in France with a certain boat pond, rather than Bernadette (after my father's uncle), Starbird (after a road in Oregon), or Anwalalys (after my mother's whimsy).