( sadness! despair! tragedy! excessive use of exclamation points! )
So, last year, just before Christmas, Us Girls went out for a night of Bowling On The Town (five girls, bowling shoes, and the local Korean Grocery Store makes for an exciting evening, okay?). While out bowling, I lost my iPod. 'Twas nigh disastrous - I felt like someone had cut off an arm, or an ear. I was devastated. Then, lo and behold! The police department calls us up at home (E answered the phone. We were all really glad she didn't answer with her typical don't-recognize-the-number greeting of, "Hello, Taco Hut. What's your order?"), and reports that someone's returned my iPod to the district office. Thank God I keep my ID in my iPod case, right? (What do you mean, you don't keep your Learner's Permit and your Stop N Shop card in your iPod case? I thought everyone did...)
So Mom and I drive out to pick up my iPod - a task made difficult by the fact that I need to show ID to claim it, and my ID is in the case behind the barricade - and all is fine and dandy. I plug it in, charge it up, add some new #InformalTwitterPodficExchange podfics for my listening pleasure (this is, literally, the days immediately before and after Christmas). Everything's working fine.
Then! It's 4:30AM on December 28th, and we're in the car on the way to the airport. I go to turn my iPod on, and what happens? THE BIG RED X OF DOOM HAPPENS! I'm panicing, but only mildly - I've still got my Kindle for the flight, and I'm planning to sleep for most of it anyway, and Dad brought his MacBook Air that Uncle Philly gave him for Christmas, so I'll be able to fix my iPod when we get back to the hotel, right? WRONG.
I plug my iPod into Dad's laptop, at approximately 11:30PM that night, after an intensely long day of being on my feet and waiting on lines and being awake for far too many hours, and what does iPod Support tell me? That I've got to take my iPod to the Apple Store for service, because it's not currently possible to reset/restart/revert to factory settings.
So, yesterday I took my baby to the Apple Store (and, seriously - for something I occasionally call my baby, it's suffered some serious damage. It's possible this is a sign that I shouldn't procreate), and what do they tell me? THAT SOMEONE EITHER DROPPED A BOWLING BALL ON MY IPOD, OR ELSE RAN OVER IT WITH A CAR. ("See this dent in the back? It's indicative of a large object crushing the iPod." "But the screen's fine, not even scratched or cracked or anything! I drop my iPod all the time!" "Oh well. Sucks to be you.") Which means, of course, that the Apple Store won't replace my iPod this time.
So today, in a fit of desperation (my Kindle can play MP3s, but it's just not the same at all), I went to Rite Aid and bought a super-post-Christmas-discounted 2gig Sansa Clip for fifteen bucks. It's still not the same, but I feel much less like I'm missing a vital organ. And hey, fifteen bucks - I'd spend more than that on a shirt I'll never wear, y'know? So this will be a temporary measure, until I save up for a new iPod (thank you. Christmas gifts, for completely draining my wallet).
And maybe, if I keep repeating it to myself enough times, my Macintosh-sworn soul won't keep shouting things like "Betrayer! Deceiver! Shol-va!" at my subconscious.....
So Mom and I drive out to pick up my iPod - a task made difficult by the fact that I need to show ID to claim it, and my ID is in the case behind the barricade - and all is fine and dandy. I plug it in, charge it up, add some new #InformalTwitterPodficExchange podfics for my listening pleasure (this is, literally, the days immediately before and after Christmas). Everything's working fine.
Then! It's 4:30AM on December 28th, and we're in the car on the way to the airport. I go to turn my iPod on, and what happens? THE BIG RED X OF DOOM HAPPENS! I'm panicing, but only mildly - I've still got my Kindle for the flight, and I'm planning to sleep for most of it anyway, and Dad brought his MacBook Air that Uncle Philly gave him for Christmas, so I'll be able to fix my iPod when we get back to the hotel, right? WRONG.
I plug my iPod into Dad's laptop, at approximately 11:30PM that night, after an intensely long day of being on my feet and waiting on lines and being awake for far too many hours, and what does iPod Support tell me? That I've got to take my iPod to the Apple Store for service, because it's not currently possible to reset/restart/revert to factory settings.
So, yesterday I took my baby to the Apple Store (and, seriously - for something I occasionally call my baby, it's suffered some serious damage. It's possible this is a sign that I shouldn't procreate), and what do they tell me? THAT SOMEONE EITHER DROPPED A BOWLING BALL ON MY IPOD, OR ELSE RAN OVER IT WITH A CAR. ("See this dent in the back? It's indicative of a large object crushing the iPod." "But the screen's fine, not even scratched or cracked or anything! I drop my iPod all the time!" "Oh well. Sucks to be you.") Which means, of course, that the Apple Store won't replace my iPod this time.
So today, in a fit of desperation (my Kindle can play MP3s, but it's just not the same at all), I went to Rite Aid and bought a super-post-Christmas-discounted 2gig Sansa Clip for fifteen bucks. It's still not the same, but I feel much less like I'm missing a vital organ. And hey, fifteen bucks - I'd spend more than that on a shirt I'll never wear, y'know? So this will be a temporary measure, until I save up for a new iPod (thank you. Christmas gifts, for completely draining my wallet).
And maybe, if I keep repeating it to myself enough times, my Macintosh-sworn soul won't keep shouting things like "Betrayer! Deceiver! Shol-va!" at my subconscious.....