My Twenty-Something Quasi-Soap

So my precious back-from-the-dead iPod is fully charged and hooked up to the computer. What's the first thing I see upon hooking it up? I only have enough room on the damn thing for about 2 more albums. I can easily rattle off at least 5 CDs that I've bought since last updating my iPod. Damn, damn, damn! Why does Apple keep phasing out moderately sized iPods? What happened to the 40 gig and 80 gig machines? Why am I forced to choose between 16 gigs and 120 gigs? The hard drive on my laptop doesn't even have 120 gigs! I don't need the space for movies or pictures or any of that other crap, just my music. And I have to spend $250 for space that I don't need ! Do you know what would happen by the time I was able to amass a large enough music collection to fill a 120 gig iPod? The damn thing would be dead! Because a new iPod will not last as long as the old one has! Oh my god, I'm starting to sound like my mother. Maybe I'll just (*cringe*) buy an iPod on eBay. ...

How spoiled am I? I got hooked up for Christmas, lugging home a suitcase filled with a new game for my Nintendo DS, a few gift cards, a 4th Wii controller and SD card and a brand spanking new Kate Spade tote bag (::squeeeeeeeeee::), but now I'm back at home trying to figure out how to get my hands on a new iPod or like equivalent and hook it up in my car for an affordable price. Easier said than done. And I'm a spoiled brat. Granted, I haven't used my iPod since June. I can't use it in my new car because I don't have an aux jack or a tape deck. I refuse to use an FM transmitter because those things only work if you live in Outer Mongolia and there are no radio stations broadcasting on any frequency on the dial. So I've been toting roughly a quarter of my CD collection in my glove compartment and center console, which is not appropriate care for my precious discs. Additionally, I'm limited to whatever I have in my car at that given moment, which is not cool i...

Greetings from New Jersey, where the current temperature is 35 degrees and it's raining. Sigh. It's good to be home. I stayed up all night on Monday night since I had to be at the airport at 5am. It took a half hour to get through security, which is unheard of at FLL. Until yesterday, the longest I had ever waited was 5 minutes. Of course I was seated in front of a 3 year old who did not understand the concept of not kicking the seat in front of you, no matter how many times his mommy told him to stop. The inflight movie on the plane was "Fred Claus," and there were no other options because I got stuck on a ghetto plane that didn't have the new entertainment system yet. At least it was clean. I was, however, treated to a beautiful view of NYC in winter morning sunlight, and everything was good after that. Except for being stuck behind abnormally slow moving people on the freezing cold jetway. That sucked. Slept for pretty much the rest of the day yesterday, since ...

I said the next post would be from home, but I just made a horrible discovery: My iPod is dead. It has passed on. It is no more. It has ceased to be. (Apologies to the geniuses from Monty Python.) I plugged it into the charger, got one flash of the dead battery signal, and then nothing. Blank. Resetting it doesn't work. It's been charging for 2 hours. I plugged it into the computer, and nothing. If I hold it up to my ear, I can hear its little hard drive (yeah, it's so old, it still has a hard drive ) gasping for breath, trying to turn over. But it will not. It is dead. This is the replacement iPod, mind you. The one I just replaced like two years ago. Exact same model, just brand new. Or refurbished. Anyway, it doesn't matter. It's dead. Two frickin' days before Christmas, 8 hours before I have to be on an airplane, and my iPod dies. To be fair, I haven't used it since my last beach day in June. So it has probably died of neglect. And it is a 5 year old mod...

...and that's about all I've gotten done as far as packing goes. I hate packing because I always think I'm going to forget something. It's not the end of the world down here because at least there's a 24-hour Walmart about half an hour away. However, very few things are open 24/7 back home in Jersey. At least nothing close to where my parents are - the price to pay for living on the edge of nowhere. But I have made an extensive list. It's almost 8pm and I have no shortage of things to wash, pack, and prepare before heading out to the airport at 5am. I probably won't sleep tonight and just pass out on the plane. Grrr....I. Hate. Packing. And Chez Target closes at 11, so I have to determine my purchasing needs and make it over there no later than 10, which is 2 hours from now. But do I start my laundry first and then go to Target, or do I wait to see what clothes I need to buy (mainly socks, for they all seem to have disappeared now that I no longer wear them)...

...as I quote Madonna, who sampled ABBA, who spawned Mamma Mia, which is playing again in the store to celebrate the release of the DVD. The natives are not pleased. Simply because we had to listen to that CD (the movie soundtrack, mind you, not the B'Way version) for 6 weeks straight this summer. That's an average of twice during an eight hour shift, five days a week, for six. effing. weeks. And it's baaaaaaaack! Except now, instead of endlessly bitching about how much we all hate this CD, we have submitted to singing along with it. You have not seen true nuttiness until you have seen a bunch of bookstore employees singing along to ABBA out loud while putting books away. In other news, I am soooooooo close to Jersey that I can almost sme- wait a minute- I was about to give any Jersey haters a good avenue for a really lame joke right there. I am so close to home I can already see all the cat fur on my stuff! Actually, I still find random strands of kitty fur on my old sweat...

**shaking fist at the heavens in Shakespearean rage** I only curse it because in the midst of trying to update my MySpace page, there was a 45 minute window during which my page was visible to the whole wide world instead of just my friends. And somehow, within that 45 minute window, someone saw my page and got some wrong ideas and caused some drama for a few people. (No, there were no dirty pictures or drunk pictures or anything stupid like that. Good luck trying to find my page if you don't already have access to it. And if you do find my page, and you're someone I don't know, don't expect me to friend you. I don't roll like that...sorry!) But I think (I sincerely hope) that the drama is over. I have double checked that my info is private again, and we can all return to our previously scheduled programming. But I still curse MySpace for making privacy an opt-in feature upon upgrading as opposed to an opt-out. And my little screw up makes me feel like one of those ...

...how general malaise and discontent can easily be solved with a couple pitchers of Yuengling and a good long talk about the good old days. Actually, the "good old days" weren't all that long ago. But long enough ago to reminisce, laugh, and cringe about. But at the end of the day, it's nice to kick back with someone who knew you "back in the day," and just drink and talk and chill. Often it's the basic and simple things in life that we enjoy the most.

...agitated? Restless? Tired? Bored? Just overall feeling blah. Maybe it's the weather...it's icky and grey and "cold" outside. We're so used to constant sunshine down here that more than one cloudy day throws everyone out of whack for a minute. Kinda like when the sun doesn't shine for two weeks straight in New Jersey. Or that one summer where the weather was 70, damp, and cloudy from Memorial Day till the 4th of July (Summer of '03, if my memory serves me correctly). Maybe I'm irritated that I was at work for most of the time that my parents were visiting for Thanksgiving. Maybe I'm confused about a possible reaction to something I said out of true concern for someone that was misinterpreted somehow. (Wish I could go into detail, but since it would involve airing out someone else's issues, I can't. Most likely you're not the involved party, but I still have to cover my ass - you never know who actually reads this thing...but if you...