States I've Visted with my iPod

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States I've visited

create your own visited states map
or check out these Google Hacks.

I've created Pod-loss fear; sorry.

Tonight I learned my good friend has developed fear of Pod loss, after I shared my story at a party a few weeks back.

But it's the very unthinkableness of losing the iPod that has me flummoxed and in stasis. People don't lose iPods easily. I'm unable to explain how I did. I don't want her to be anxious. This is blue moon territory. If she's less happy with her iPod now, I'm unhappy about that, and terribly sorry to have brought that fear to her.

If I had my iPod, I'd make an on-the-go playlist of songs about regrets and loss. But as you know...

Before the iPod

I used to run my iBook through my car stereo. Today I returned to this practice. I couldn't resist. I'd done a little bantering on a blog I like with another commenter, and the topic turned to 80s music (it started with a story on the Weezer lead singer going to Harvard). Had I not LOST MY IPOD, I'd have served myself a hearty 80s playlist on my drive through the post-levee failure badlands to UNO. I settled for shuffling what was on my iBook, in iTunes. It was nice and loud.

Wrap your iPod in something warm

I came across a row of little iPod and Treo cases on C's bookshelf. They accumulate.

For the longest time, I kept my iPod in the black case that it came with. I liked the weight of it, and that the iPod slips nicely into the top. I had to remove it to use it, but that didn't seem an inconvenience. It was sleek.

I bought a different case only once, and that was what it was wearing when I lost my iPod. This one was bulkier. The iPod slipped into a sheath, with its control wheel exposed, and a plasticine window protected its screen. A cover then folded over and snapped behind, like a purse almost. Wearing this, the iPod never fit as neatly into my pocket as it did in its Apple-designed case.

C likes containers. She likes little bags and sacks, traveling cases, purses and backpacks, all sorts of containers. She's had more iPod cases than I've had. I like her current one, a sort of peachy-orange leather sheath.

D has the cutest little pink iPod. Before he bought the pink plastic case, it was a lovely, but ordinary iPod. Now it couldn't be cuter, or pinker.

P, I discovered only this weekend, has a VIDEO IPOD! Wow. She keeps it in a wonderful blue cover that doesn't expose the wheel. The case itself has the texture of the wheel made into it, and your touch works through it. Nice.

When I get a new iPod (too painful to think about right now) I shall return to the original case, if it fits.

But more importantly

I just want to blog about my iPod.

My honey bought me an iPod three years ago. Since then, I've upgraded it twice, and had the 60gb photo iPod. Everytime I picked up my little pod, I thought sweetly of my beloved. Never have I had a better present. Those of you who've given me presents, don't take offense. I love presents, and every present I've ever had was good. Even the plastic monkey and jar of off-brand peanuts that my dad gave me for my 19th Christmas. (He always waited until Christmas Eve around 6 pm to go to the TG&Y and grab the last thing off the shelf.) That monkey and the peanuts weren't good at the time. But he'd dead now, so it's a good memory. At the time, it was totally WTF? Sorry, I lost track.

How did I lose track of my iPod? I think it fell out of my car when I grabbed my jacket off the seat. Or worse, maybe I sat it down while I was administering an exam to a large group of students (not my own!) and some sad, podless person took mine. Could that have happened?

In the car, I'd plug my iPod into the stereo auxiliary line-in, and hit "shuffle songs." I hit fast-forward a lot. I had a lot of crap on my iPod. I tried to remember to mark the really crappy stuff in an on-the-go list. But fast-forward is easier.

I had pictures in my iPod. Pictures of my girl, pictures of my pets, pictures of my family and friends. Pictures of tattoos designs I'd like to get.

I like to listen to loud disco in my car. I didn't like disco as much when I was growing up in the 70s. Something about its big loud and proud queerness appeals to me now. If I'm driving up to my house when Gloria Estefan comes on singing "Turn the Beat Around" or Sylvester is making me feel mighty real, I keep driving, around the block, to finish up.

I like loud bluegrass, too. The Louvin Brothers tribute makes me want to drive and drive.

I'm not that silhouette person with the white earbuds. I'm 800-watt amp and subwoofer in the trunk iPod person. When I first got my iPod, I went to my car, plugged it in, and turned on "Tomorrow Never Knows." Perfect.

Before I got my iPod, I would drive around with my little 12" iBook lined in to the stereo. That was fun. I had a little trippy screensaver, and my front seat felt like my own little audio-visual escape. I will return to this practice while I figure out what's next. That's cool.

I lost my iPod

I

lost

my

iPod.