What's In a Name?

I remember sitting there in his dorm, watching him play guitar. He wasn't Mystery Guitar Man, by any means (he's of youtube fame), but this guy did have some skill. I remember wishing my boyfriend could play guitar (but my boyfriend has other talents).


Anyway, this guy was the proud owner of several guitars. They all were named after girls he knew—not necessarily had a relationship with, but knew. When I found out he was getting a new guitar, I had high hopes of having it named after me.

It was a creamy white Fender. Pure—like myself. (Not to toot my own horn, but yeah, I'm a virgin.)
He had asked me on AIM what he should name it.
I figured if I suggested myself off the bat, that would be too presumptuous. Instead, I sarcastically mentioned the name of a girl that had jilted him on Halloween.
He got mad and said he would have named it my name. But now, it will be named Miley.

Grrr. Miley. When will he stop obsessing over a brunette Barbie doll with a southern accent?
I was a Miley fan. I guess I still sort of am. But now, there is a little bitterness between her and I. Maybe even jealousy.

I'll get over it later.

The point is, to this day, I still don't have an inanimate object named after me. So, are there any guys out there that would like to name their pen “Nicole?” How about your laptop? Or hey—any musical instruments would be appreciated—especially guitar. At this point, though, I don't care if a tuba is named after me. Something.