good grief, am I to review that whole story?
A couple of follows up with regards to my new 110th generation ipod. I like it! I feel cool! I feel reconnected to music in a way that is more authentic than I thought possible. I run! I also daydream more and set real life scenes to the soundtracks of my life and all that good stuff.
The Nike connection to ipod is a total hoax:
you get a $40 pedometer that tracks your heartrate that only seems to work inside a special pair of $110(?) itenners. You also get access to an online workout community.
I've managed by syncing up the songs that keep pace with my target heartrate of 156 bpm. This isn't done mathematically, simply by its capacity to move my behind. Those songs are:
• 'Rude Boys train' by Dessmond Dekker
• 'A Ted Leo song' (ps. where's the recently played or back button on the shuffle, huh?)
My only regret is selecting the red ipod.
Now when my favorite dance song comes on, I turn into a black silhouette on a bright color, then I look down at my ipod and am reminded of Aids in Africa, and I restore to my original colors.
9.25.2008
9.14.2008
ipod tale: part i
I've had a reconditioned ipod nano sitting in my target online shopping cart for about a month now. I don't know what the hesitation was in getting it to replace my much whined about lost one, but something told me to wait.
A few days ago, I happened to be following macrumors.com in anticipation of Adobe CS4, when I discoverednthe new nano had been announced at a Steve Jobsy type conference–and it was practically the same price, with more capacity to rock, and it came in alotta colors.
so no brainer, I went online to buy it where I was confronted with an engraving option. I thought for a moment about what lyric i should inscribe into my newest igadgetbaby. the browser window was dormant for the rest of friday afternoon. A commitment to color was going to be decision enough.
Saturday, the smartest day to venture into the Apple store in Towson, my friend PC-teacher and I took a long overdue trip to the mall. She moved right along past the 50+ person apple store onto Anthropologip. I walked in, being the apple snob (as my mall companion calls me) thinking I deserve and will get immediate attention, as I am not there for ridunkulous requests ("I am here to trade in my ipod for one with built-in speakers.*") I know EXACTLY what I want and its right there on the table. GREEN, 8gb, no case, and no crapple care.
Apple stores have this innovative new consumer system you might be aware of: The staff all wear little registers on them and they wear tshirts with clever little slogans like "I know people". Orange shirts answer your questions and put you on a list and pretend like you are at a party. Aqua shirts get merchandise somewhere through the back of the store, maybe by bicycle in Pennsylvania. (note: do not wear these color ts into the store unless you're in to mild-manhandling.)
Orange shirts work faster, ya know? they forget that they've talked to you, and ask you what you need and you say something stupid like: "I'm on a list". meanwhile, if they had products out, you could simply hand it to them to ibuy. This pattern went on for 23 minutes, in which time, I had changed my opinion on the color of my nano about 23 times with certainty. This is a good time to point out that that the red ipod is not simply a color. I found this out cycling the table after having decided to go with charcoal so it would match all my other electronics. Whoa, red, fights Aids in Africa. how can I be so selfish with green or charcoal or white. But since I am fairly sure i want those colors, i could just make a donation and not be a slave to choices... ARRG! this is not the internal dialogue i want to be having. grumbling begins... I like lines! i like a visual display of my wait and the retards in front of me and the losers behind me.
part ii: ipod and nike, loading your ipod when you are mildly drunk and then running the next day.
inscriptions?
* do they make an ipod with built-in speakers?
A few days ago, I happened to be following macrumors.com in anticipation of Adobe CS4, when I discoverednthe new nano had been announced at a Steve Jobsy type conference–and it was practically the same price, with more capacity to rock, and it came in alotta colors.
so no brainer, I went online to buy it where I was confronted with an engraving option. I thought for a moment about what lyric i should inscribe into my newest igadgetbaby. the browser window was dormant for the rest of friday afternoon. A commitment to color was going to be decision enough.
Saturday, the smartest day to venture into the Apple store in Towson, my friend PC-teacher and I took a long overdue trip to the mall. She moved right along past the 50+ person apple store onto Anthropologip. I walked in, being the apple snob (as my mall companion calls me) thinking I deserve and will get immediate attention, as I am not there for ridunkulous requests ("I am here to trade in my ipod for one with built-in speakers.*") I know EXACTLY what I want and its right there on the table. GREEN, 8gb, no case, and no crapple care.
Apple stores have this innovative new consumer system you might be aware of: The staff all wear little registers on them and they wear tshirts with clever little slogans like "I know people". Orange shirts answer your questions and put you on a list and pretend like you are at a party. Aqua shirts get merchandise somewhere through the back of the store, maybe by bicycle in Pennsylvania. (note: do not wear these color ts into the store unless you're in to mild-manhandling.)
Orange shirts work faster, ya know? they forget that they've talked to you, and ask you what you need and you say something stupid like: "I'm on a list". meanwhile, if they had products out, you could simply hand it to them to ibuy. This pattern went on for 23 minutes, in which time, I had changed my opinion on the color of my nano about 23 times with certainty. This is a good time to point out that that the red ipod is not simply a color. I found this out cycling the table after having decided to go with charcoal so it would match all my other electronics. Whoa, red, fights Aids in Africa. how can I be so selfish with green or charcoal or white. But since I am fairly sure i want those colors, i could just make a donation and not be a slave to choices... ARRG! this is not the internal dialogue i want to be having. grumbling begins... I like lines! i like a visual display of my wait and the retards in front of me and the losers behind me.
part ii: ipod and nike, loading your ipod when you are mildly drunk and then running the next day.
inscriptions?
* do they make an ipod with built-in speakers?
9.11.2008
9.03.2008
good bye, gegghie khan
inner peace is a total joke. you know gardening, kayaking, meditation and yoga, all that.
Mediation on the other hand, especially a long drawn out one is the true secret to sanctity. Over the course of the last two years, at one point, I was carrying 4 hatchets over friendships that ended in an unamiable way. One by one, they've faded or have been buried until this last weekend. The last gigantic five year old hatchet was very joyously, unexpectedly, and drunkenly buried like a luau pig. We laughed, we cried. We remembered times when we did the worlds most stupid things, and how we still both do the worlds most stupid things without having learned any better.
If it recultivates, it undoubtedly will be a slow-growing, different friendship. If it doesn't, thats one less awkward time I have to squeeze by someone on a narrow Smalltimore street without acknowledging them. big sigh.
Go out there and do it, my bloglleagues. You know how you cringe at a small party when schmo-and-schmo shows and blabs really loudly about how great their life is so others will undoubtedly hear it? Well you won't have to be that person anymore! Buy this one-time compadre who wronged you a shot of Viritas. Salute to friendship. Imagine Michael McDonald is playing in the background and call it a day.
Mediation on the other hand, especially a long drawn out one is the true secret to sanctity. Over the course of the last two years, at one point, I was carrying 4 hatchets over friendships that ended in an unamiable way. One by one, they've faded or have been buried until this last weekend. The last gigantic five year old hatchet was very joyously, unexpectedly, and drunkenly buried like a luau pig. We laughed, we cried. We remembered times when we did the worlds most stupid things, and how we still both do the worlds most stupid things without having learned any better.
If it recultivates, it undoubtedly will be a slow-growing, different friendship. If it doesn't, thats one less awkward time I have to squeeze by someone on a narrow Smalltimore street without acknowledging them. big sigh.
Go out there and do it, my bloglleagues. You know how you cringe at a small party when schmo-and-schmo shows and blabs really loudly about how great their life is so others will undoubtedly hear it? Well you won't have to be that person anymore! Buy this one-time compadre who wronged you a shot of Viritas. Salute to friendship. Imagine Michael McDonald is playing in the background and call it a day.
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