grrgoyl

We're gearing up for the big road trip to California. I had the brilliant idea of loading up a couple of mp3 players with our individual (and never-intersecting) music choices -- if I learned one lesson from the first trip, it's that fifteen CDs, which seem like plenty while you're packing, become tedious and repetitious surprisingly quickly on a 16-hour journey. My sister and I actually hit a truck stop and bought a cheesy 80's compilation, so desperate were we for something fresh.

I also knew if anything were to give Tery a silver lining on this trip that we're both dreading, it would be the excuse to shop.

I already had a 2nd gen iPod Nano, 2 gb, which had always seemed to be plenty. Lately though I've been hovering near full capacity, and it's been a bit of a drag switching out albums. Still, 500 songs should be plenty for the trip.

Her eyes lit up at the suggestion, and within the hour she was on Amazon poking around. Within another half hour, she bought a Sansa 4 gb Fuze based on some positive reviews, a shockingly quick decision, but I guess she doesn't like to draw it out and get bogged down for days reading every possible review like I do when buying electronics. Hey, it's a serious business.

The really nice thing about the Sansa is it has a slot for a memory card, so you could increase its capacity to 32 gb, though it's highly unlikely she will.

It arrived, and it was small and sleek and shiny. I felt a twinge of jealousy, I'll admit. I STILL thought I could live with my puny 2 gb, but Tery knows me better than I know myself. She insisted adamantly I let her buy me something with larger capacity as an early Xmas gift.

As sexy as the Sansa appeared, playing around with it I quickly realized how used to the iPod's menus and controls I had become. Everything was in a different place on the Sansa and, well, different. I realized I wanted another iPod.

We had of course looked at them first when Tery hopped online, but she insisted on new, and new iPods are still crazy expensive. Fortunately I'm not so particular. Ebay had the typical feeding frenzy on anything worth buying, so I turned to Craigslist. Plenty of options for 4 gb. Then I noticed that for just a little more, I could have an 8 gb. Well, why not? (Also noticed some highly delusional people trying to pass off their 2 -- and even 1 -- gb players in the same price range. Yeah, good luck with that.)

I sent out about six emails, went back to work and waited. About three hours later I heard back from one; Ian had an 8 gb described as "got some scratches so it has a case now" and light blue. Ehhhh, not ideal. For fifteen minutes I debated holding out for a better offer, but reasoned that his price was right and I would be slapping it into my own case anyway. I arranged to pick it up at his place after my shift.

He sent directions and the explanation that his phone had been turned off so unfortunately I couldn't text him. This dispersed my cloud of buyer's euphoria pretty quickly, wondering if I was headed for a drug den or if Ian was one iPod away from homelessness. I didn't want to be judgmental, though; I've had to sell things to pay a bill from time to time. Doesn't make you a criminal necessarily.

I shared my concerns with kavieshana (N), who wanted me to bring a gun to the transaction. Apart from the fact that the closest thing I have to a gun is the cheap plastic thing from my Jayne costume, I didn't think it was a wise idea.

However, she apparently was really freaking out. "If I don't hear from you in 60 minutes I'm calling the Colorado police." (Haha, you might want to narrow it down to Denver for future reference.) I followed Ian's directions, but unfortunately the sun had set and his apartment complex was none too easy to navigate. As I wandered in the frigid dark, she texted again "Report!" "Having trouble finding his place" I answered. "Yeah, I totally believe this is Elaine" she sent back. She's adorable when she worries.

I finally found his building. It was pretty grotty, alright. It was in fact only a few blocks from the grotty place we lived before moving to the condo. I was somewhat reassured by the Wicca goddess stickers plastered all over his door. Sure enough, he opened the door and was a total crunchy granola hippy, with dreads and a double pierced lip. And a really cute shy little smile as well.

The hand-off was completed. "I hope you get your phone turned back on," I said teasingly as I left. I updated N with the good news of my survival. I described Ian and she replied, "Ah, we didn't consider the pothead spent his phone money on pot angle." I added the detail of his sweet smile, and she shot back, "You hooked up with him? Oh my god, Elaine, they don't BATHE."

Anyway, I got it. I took it out of the very cheap silicone case (seafoam green, ugh. It haunts me everywhere) and almost every edge had pretty ugly gouges in it, but that spares me the heartbreak of putting the first scratch on it myself. And it functioned perfectly so that's all that matters. I have a sleek black case coming from eBay. It's all good.

Well, almost. I wouldn't be writing this if there weren't some saga involved.

I was now pretty excited to be able to sell the 2 gb and get some extra cash for my vacation. I cleaned it up, dug out no less than four different cases for it (I'm very picky about my cases) and listed it on eBay and Craigslist. Only 2 gb, but in near perfect condition (thanks to living in four different cases), which was more than most other listings could say. I was confident.

Sure enough, within about two hours an eBayer snagged it at my Buy It Now price. Then literally over the next ten minutes I got an email, a text and a call responding to my CL ad. Hot, hot item. I removed it after that because I HATE people who are too lazy to remove their ad or respond to you after its sold. Like those five other 8-gb sellers I'm still waiting to hear from.

I had kept my music on it in case a CL buyer wanted to test it, but now it needed to be restored to factory settings for its new home. Here's where the problems started.

I thought there was a menu option to do this, but apparently it can only be done through iTunes. You all might or might not remember that iTunes is dead to me and I've since moved on to Media Monkey, which does the exact same thing except you can use other file formats besides mp3 and, more importantly, no one can hack them and steal $250 from me. Unfortunately I need a separate program to rip from a CD (FreeRip, which I also highly recommend); N simply can't understand going through so much work when there's already a program that does it all. She doesn't know how highly I value my principles.

So I had to download iTunes special just to wipe my Nano. After the fifteen minute install (JESUS CHRIST ITUNES), to my dismay I realized my computer had stopped recognizing my iPod. It would charge, but no data transferring was happening. I only update it once a week (with the new Dan Savage podcast), so it had been a week since I had tried. Two cables, one computer reboot and a few halfhearted attempts to play in the Apple configuration screen later and I was no closer. "What are the odds of this happening? To anyone who isn't me?" I asked N (we text quite frequently if that isn't obvious by now). Answer: ".000000000000001." Too fucking right.

After digging through the Apple forums, finding plenty of people with a similar problem having solved it quite easily by rebooting the iPod (tried several times), I came across one lone post that made my stomach slide down into my groin area. Guy noticed his friend's Sansa cable looked the same as the iPod's and experimented, apparently frying his iPod.

Yep. I had done the exact same thing to see if we could minimize packing duplicate cords on our trip. Stupid, stupid, STUPID. Though since I already hate Apple (to some extent), I prefer to blame them for making such delicate equipment. The good news is I didn't do the same thing to Tery's Sansa. Oh, and that I didn't decide to stand by the 2 gb and discover the night before the trip that I was stuck with the same music I've been listening to for six months.

I reluctantly refunded the eBayer his money with a truthful explanation. I'm hoping he doesn't ding me with negative feedback -- I mean, I could have sent it off and claimed it was fine when I packed it (yeah, right...I would never have a good night's sleep again). We'll see.

So what's the market value of an iPod in perfect cosmetic condition, packed full of songs that can never be changed? Surprisingly, probably something. Not the price I was asking obviously, but there are tons of auctions for as-is, parts-only iPods all over eBay that get interest. Sure beats just throwing it away. Will look into it after our trip.

~*~

Tery and I were watching the NBC Nightly News with Brian Williams, and they were wrapping up with a puff piece about discovering why cats don't slop water everywhere when they drink like dogs do (a high-speed camera captured a cat drinking, and you can see the tongue pulls the water towards the mouth in a column, and their jaws snap shut on it rapidly with every sip).

I couldn't resist this joke at the closing line, though:

Brian Williams: This is unlike our dog companions, who we of course forgive due to their extremely high lovability index.
Me: I'd like to see some raw data on that lovability index, Bri.

My car got broken into last night at work.

I even saw the fuckers, a half hour before the end of my shift, through the slats of the fence surrounding the exercise yard. Saw them pull into the parking lot, maybe just turning around, except their headlights were off. "Hmmmm, that's weird," I thought.

It was only when I got in my car to leave that I noticed all the crap that normally lives in my glove compartment was now strewn over my front seat and floor, commingling with the glittering remains of my passenger window. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

Was it worth the effort? They got my wallet, the only contents of which I cared about were my debit card (immediately cancelled) and my driver's license (I hated my picture anyway). Plus a partially punched card from Panda Express, good for one free bowl of soup or one eggroll. LIVE IT UP. And my iPod, stuck in the pocket of my messenger bag and left in the car literally for the first time since starting the job. Oh, the cold, uncaring, almost hilarious statistical improbabilities. I wish I could have seen the look on their faces as they pulled it greedily from the bag, only to see in the light of day how it's all scratched and scuffed to shit. Yeah, HIGH resale value there.

They were thoughtful enough to leave my hat and gloves for the frigid drive home, as well as my employer's letter to the IRS which to me is worth about $2,000.

After calling my bank I called the police, who told me to file my report online. Naturally I remember nothing that would be remotely helpful in tracking down the perps except a car color and vague shape, but I had to try. The injustice and personal feelings of violation are almost too great to bear (but are proving too much for Tery, who has a liberal side helping of guilt to boot. She said I could quit if I wanted, but ironically now I need the second job more than ever to buy another iPod).

Thus I have to waste precious time this holdiay shopping season waiting for a replacement debit card, not to mention stress about getting a photo ID in time to board a plane in about 2 weeks. Ho ho ho!!



However, all is not lost. I know I swore not to overload people with adorable Frances pics but, well, this one makes me smile:

Boring Administrative Post

Last night I finished the last of Buffy S7. Now my future is a little grayer and less exciting with no more new eps to look forward to ever. But at least I can stop worrying about spoilers popping out at me from around every corner. My friend Bear sent me a sweet and hilarious Hallmark sympathy e-card.

I picked up my copy of Saw today, but the menu is so creepy I might just be too scared to watch it again.

The Caesars might be my new favorite band. They do the song "Jerk It Out" featured in the iPod Shuffle ads, and a lot of their stuff really rocks my world.

And I am officially SICK TO DEATH of coughing. Please, please leave me alone, stupid cold/flu/viral infection.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled life, already in progress.