A Strange Failing

There are plenty of reasons to envy other people.

Wealth.

Experiences they've had.

The fact they're tall enough to take things down off shelves without needing a stepladder.

But the one that has me in its grips at the moment is a deep, abiding envy of people who are able to give names easily.

As in give names to other human beings (you know, babies) or to pets and then stick with them!

I've had these cats for over a year now, since October of 2010 officially and about April of 2010 unofficially and I've only managed to name one of them.

The other one...

I keep coming up with names but then discounting them, or doubting them, or looking at him and thinking 'Does he really look like a [blah blah]?'.

When we got my cat Pickles 14 odd years ago it took me 6 months to name him and I thought that was a long time.

I thought I'd get better with age.

I did not.

I mean, it's just a name for [insert the name of your deity or scientific constant here]'s sake!

It isn't like it has to capture his essence and resonate with the universal truth of the cosmos!

I avoided giving the cats proper names during the 4-6 month period when I was pretending I wasn't going to adopt them and was trying not to get attached, during which time I just referred to them as 'Little Mama' and 'Little Boy'.

Now Little Mama has her real name but Little Boy... I can't call him Little Boy his whole life, I might as well name him Cat!

Also it's incorrect. He's huge! He weighs a good 6 kg* at least!

Some people just seem able to get a pet or spawn a child and say 'I name thee [whatever]' and then stick with it.

And it doesn't even occur to them not to stick with it.

That is the pet/child/whatever's name and that's all there is to know.

Envy.

So much envy.

I'm getting to the point where I think I'll just have to pick one of the ones I like the most, say 'that's the one' and then to hell with Future-Me when she starts um-ing and ahi-ng about it.

I will name you soon, darling, I swear I will.



*That's about 13 lb for the imperial crowd.

Are You Ready To Contemplate The Possibility Of Having The Capacity To Rock!?

Oh God, Internets! I don't know what to do!
In the interest of keeping my promises to both you and myself about not being such a lazy [expletive deleted] this year I got myself all geared up to move onto a second New Year's Resolution (namely Take Up The Guitar) after having a good three months to get over the shock of having started one of the others (Take Italian Lessons).

So I did what you usually do when you're about to buy or do something in these modern times.
I went to the internets.
It was worse than the WebMD incident!

I found websites telling me that it's best to learn the basics on an acoustic guitar.
I found websites telling me that electric guitar is easier to pick up and you might as well start there if you're intending to rock out later on.
I found websites talking about how to choose your guitar and not get ripped off by the music shop duders.
I found myself looking at the prices of amps and trying to tell the difference between a Telecaster and a Stratocaster.

I can't even reliably identify the order of strings on the damn guitar yet!
What am I doing comparing amps!
I have no idea what I'm doing!

Some of the websites also had sections on drums and I found myself getting wistful about the possibility of dragging a kit up into my flat and then finding out that I have insufficient timing and very cranky neighbours :-b

I know I could just go into a couple of stores and pepper them with questions until I find something that looks about right but my buying behaviour comes in two flavours: impulsive and excruciatingly drawn out.

I don't want to just buy an instrument just because I want to get started and then have to buy a new one shortly after when I figure out that it isn't what I'm looking for.
But I also don't want to get so turned around by the sheer amount of options out there that I never manage to buy anything at all.

I'm probably going to have to ask for help.

There's no trouble finding it. Almost every one of my friends is going out with a dude who owns at least three guitars, some of which have been given names*.
It might be a bit weird going guitar shopping with one of my mates' bed-buddies but they're all nice fellas with the parts of their brains that relate to guitars properly wired and pointed due 'axe' so it's the logical choice.

And then after that I just have to work out how to play the dang thing or gear myself up to take lessons without having flashbacks to my school music lessons.

Oh God, the recorders all tasted of disinfectant...



*The guitars, not the boyfriends. The boyfriends already have names.