So on Wednesday, one of the many little annoyances that built up over the course of my morning was that my iPod (aka, Frank - which, btw, I looked it up and I got it on
November 30, 2007 as a replacement for the one I got for Christmas 2006 (aka, Sammy), which was a troubled machine from the start) stopped playing twice in the space of half an hour, and had to be reset. Since it is old venerable, I looked into the possibility of replacing it. I wanted something that could hold my full collection, but wasn't willing to pay an extra $100 for it (nor was I willing to pay $200 more for the latest iPod touch that only holds 64gb), so since Frank still works perfectly fine when hooked up to a speaker dock, I decided to purchase
a new iPod Nano, in blue (I waffled for a bit between the blue and the purple but kept coming back to blue). From Amazon, where it was cheaper than Apple, and I had gift certificates, so I got it for $54 (including applicable taxes and the $3.99 upgrade to overnight shipping).
(Today, I am also wearing new jeans I bought with a gift certificate. Gift certificates are the best. The jeans are a little darker than I normally like - why does nothing come already faded to light blue anymore? - but they fit well and aren't too long, though I still had to cuff them and they are petites. idek.)
ANYWAY. The new iPod, henceforth known as Ella, arrived yesterday, and it is so TINY and AQUA and SHINY. I spent last night loading music onto it. Except, because of the external hard drive corruption back in September, almost none of my music was actually on the laptop - it was all in a recovered folder on the new external hard drive or in the iPod backup folder i made as soon as I got the new external hard drive. Which meant I had to import it all into iTunes first, and then load it onto the iPod. And that took forever, so I went to bed really late and overslept this morning, and still have no playlists set up on the nano, but it has about 1200 songs on it now, while I decide how much Led Zeppelin, for example, I really need to have on any given day. I'll set up commuting playlists over the weekend. And Frank, the old iPod, is in the dock on my desk, doing fine yeoman's duty.
Maybe we'll break Ella in with some iPod oracle at some point (speaking of which, did I mention I named my kindle "oracle"? My phone is Bucky and my iPad is Robin (I couldn't choose just one!), and my laptop is Alexander III. The tiny white laptop was Nina, but it never saw much use, so I might recycle that name back into the rotation at some point.)
While I was doing that, I watched Elementary. Oh, my heart.
While I am a little iffy on both Holmes's sudden swerve to the dark side and also Joan lying about staying, those two mirrored scenes where they finally speak of their appreciation for each other were simply wonderful. "I think what you do is...amazing. I'm going to miss this. Not...this. But, this." And then "I'm sorry our last days together have gone so poorly."
Now they just need to bring Alfredo and Alistair back. And cast Idris Elba as Moriarty. Or possibly Indira Varma. I'm not fussy.
In other news, I'm trying to decide whether to shell out money to see Sebastian Stan on Broadway in Picnic. Arguments against are mostly money-related. Arguments for are
self-evident (NB: links to a pic of shirtless and oiled Sebastian Stan). Either way, let us hope that
Bucky's canonical aversion to shirts transitions unchanged into the movieverse. (Also, shirtless training montages for Captain America, Falcon, and Winter Soldier, please. Also, also, if you ever were going to get a Wolverine cameo in a non-X film, Winter Soldier would be the place for it. IJS. Shirtlessness all around, please.)
Lastly, I posted a story yesterday:
I can still hear you when you dream (@
AO3)
Push; Nick/Cassie; adult; 3,860 words
Cassie doesn't believe in shadowy government conspiracies, and she doesn't even know anybody named Nick.
aka, the one with amnesia and reunionating. I had the beginning of this written for months, but I couldn't figure out where to go with it (I had some terrifying visions of long and plotty that thankfully never fully coalesced into anything workable) and then it started perking along last week, and there was reunionating sex, which is one of my favorite kinds.
I need to write a story titled "You thought that you could outrun sorrow." Tommy? Wally? Bart? Hmm...
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