I'm sitting on one third of a three piece mini-sectional while I type this.
That's why there aren't pictures of my apartment yet.
Because it's not finished.
It isn't weird to name inanimate objects, right? I mean, I'm not talking about EVERY inanimate object here. Frankly, it'd be odd to name all my pencils, pens, DVD cases, pillows and the different velcro ties that tidy up my power cables. It would get confusing. I would call them by the wrong name and the relationship we had would be over. My cables would remain tangled and disorganized, my DVD cases would revolt by scratching the DVDs inside them and my pillows... well... it'd be hell.
So I don't just name ANY inanimate object. I name the ones that are useful to me. The ones that matter. Granted, if I'm classifying them as more important than other objects, does that not offend just as much (if not more) than not remembering the name I gave it? CONFUSION!
Alas, here the the facts:
-if you're inanimate, I feel like I have the right to name you
-if you're important to me and serve significant function, chances are I will name you
-chances also are that the name won't be particularly flattering
-I choose names based on a first-come-first-serve basis, which interesting results
This started a long time ago, though I can't remember with what object. Probably the most specific incident I can remember is driving in my parent's Echo with my friend Carol and discussing naming the car. For fun. For personality. Somehow, the name Carol suggested stuck.
Tourettes.
Tourrie for short.
What. The. Hell.
The car had been named after a bizarre psyhiatric disorder. Not only would my car now be ridiculed for having tiny tires, but it also had a potentially politically incorrect name. Not it's fault, but still.
Either way, naming-madness ensued. I have since named my current vehicle with the pattern of mental illness in mind. Sybil is my Cobalt. Sybil is also the fictitious name for a real life case of disociative personality disorder as made popular by a movie of the same name. Popular isn't the right word, but it felt right to write it that way. Especially at 1:15 am.
Sybil. Tourrettes. And so many more:
-Dolores: a purse I long-term borrowed from Heritage Park and used in my day to day life throughout grade... 11 I guess it would be. I once boasted at the amount of random and bizarre things I kept inside Dolores and did, one day, manage to produce a stapler from within her. Sadly, she had to be returned for me not to get charged money off my paycheck. I miss you Dolores.
-Lavar: my bike. I'm sorry that I named you Lavar but it was the first thing that popped into my head when I first got you. It stuck. It was either that or Lamar. I liked the v better. You're a great blue beauty and you've served me well. I like to imagine you'd could read my books under a rainbow and defend me from aliens while being best friends with a robot. You're a bike of many trades, Lavar.
-Philumena: okay, technically, Philumena isn't inanimate. He's a plant. A gender-confused Philodendron. I refer to him as a he in passing, but have clearly named him Philumena (which, in general, is considered feminine). I have no explanation for this. But Philumena is well adjusted and growing beautifully. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen a dead leaf on him.
-Marcus: my very recently acquired Nintendo Wii. Marcus. Again, it was the first thing that came to mind. The interesting part is that in naming Marcus, my old Super Nintendo ended up being names Leon. The two names just seemed to fit and it worked. It's already stuck. I officialized Marcus upon setting him up. It's in his system now and everything. No going back.
Maybe I'm creative. Maybe I'm just lonely and need cats. Lots of cats. Either way, at least I'm surrounding by things with personality.
Maybe I like to play God, a creator.
Or something. I don't know.
PS: I'm sorry I forgot about Pippin, Barry, Lacie and Bernard. You're all wonderful pieces of hardware as well!
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