I don't think I'm ALONE in this stupid, ridiculous phenomena of NAMING STUFF.
I know I'm not.
I know of someone who named their STOMACH.
Anyway...up yonder is a picture of the back of my MP3 player. My friend gave Herb to me about a year ago after she got The Brick (so named because of its sheer SIZE). He's a refurb, so i think he must have had a fairly hard life before he came to my friend, and was than passed on to me. I love Refurb Herb's guts, and realized a few days ago he didn't have a name! Neither did my camera, my lamp, or my alarm clock.
This HAD to be rectified.
My camera, the cheap, epic little red Polaroid of my affections, is now Sam The Camera (i considered PAM, but its definitely a dude camera).
My lamp, the vibrantly green goose neck my mother bought me, far less ugly than the OTHER green goose neck lamp it replaced (that thing was never worthy of naming), is now Kermit. He knows it ain't easy being green.
My ancient, atrocious, horrendous, EVIL alarm clock is named Horvath, after the evil Maxim Horvath from The Sorcerer's Apprentice.
A waste of time?
But I have alarming amounts of time TO waste.
RANDOM: My purse has its own title that came on its tag...The Hippie Hobo. It's so epic, why bother to change it?
My desk, my bed, my chair, and other items i find particularly dear to my heart are still waiting to be named.
We'll keep you posted.