When I was 10 years old, my mom asked me what I wanted for Christmas. With no hesitation on my end, I immediately said, “A Walkman.” I was the kid who fell asleep to her music, dreaming of my first kiss by listening to Phil Collins and Tina Turner. I felt as if the headphones on a Walkman would somehow keep the thoughts deep inside and safe from prying eyes and listening ears. Who would have thought, 25 years later, I would be listening to the same songs and artists, without having to worry if the cassette tape would wear out and break?
When I won the iPod Touch for writing this post, Fresh Fit In West Virginia Means- Your Cottage Cheese Thighs Look Nice In Spandex, I was ecstatic. Not only have I never won anything in my life, but I was winning something I knew I could never afford. A gadget. A shiny, technological advanced gadget. Through a mishap with receiving the wrong product, to the anxious waiting, once I had the iPod Touch in my hands I knew immediately, it ain’t no Walkman.
The slick design is the first eye-catching feature. In a world in which we’re used to buttons, buttons and more buttons-with the new iPod Touch there is no more figuring out which does what. Simply turn it on and begin the setup. Let’s discuss the setup for a moment. With the previous iPod I was sent, it took over 45 minutes to get it working with Windows Vista. The iPod Touch? Minutes. No hassles, no software hangups-smooth as can be. I was adding songs from various CDs in no time and I even splurged and downloaded several from the iTunes store.
If I had one issue it would be setting up the wireless connection from my router. Apparently, the iPod Touch does not like PPoE connections. I entered the IP, Subnet Mask etc., and it found the connection, but could not connect to the Internet. After researching a few sites, I figured out a strange fix, (which was nothing more than choosing “don’t use this connection”, restarting the iPod and bam, it worked), and was able to browse the web for the first time on an iPod.
Sure, iPods have all the bells and whistles we’ve come to expect from mp3 players, or gadgets in general, but I still see it as this: the same escape I had as a 10 year old little girl, into my own world of falling asleep listening to my favorite songs and dreaming of what life may bring. And yes, I do have “One More Night” by Phil Collins in my playlist.
My iPod Touch: It Ain’t No Walkman.
Merry Christmas
Wishing all of my blogger friends a very Merry Christmas. I got off work early and I am now deciding if I should wear jeans or yoga pants to my mom’s man-friend’s mother’s house, which is where I’m spending Christmas Eve. I think I’m putting on the yoga pants. More food and less crankiness.
A reminder- watch out for reindeer poop in your yard.
Shopping With Inbreds.
First, do not make fun of my falling snow. If it bugs you, then well, visit this blog December 26th when the snow will be removed. I’m trying to get into the holiday spirit and snow helps. Somewhat. I’d prefer the real thing, but since it’s supposed to be sunny and 40 degrees tomorrow and Christmas Day, I won’t be getting my wish.
The other night, I decided to face Wal Mart because I had one last item to buy for my mom plus I needed shampoo, hairspray and feminine hygiene products. I decided 1am would be the best time-I figured most inbreds and rednecks would be home drunk by then and not out Christmas shopping. Oh, how wrong I was-not only were they out, but they had practically taken over the entire store. When you’re in West Virginia and you hear someone say, “What holler did they crawl out of,”-it’s bad. Really bad. And I kept repeating this phrase over and over to myself.
I’m the type of shopper, if I know what I want it’s my mission to go in, get it, pay for it and be done. This was my plan Friday night. I parked in the Stork Parking-I hit it lucky and since I’m fat-who the hell would know if I was preggers or not? No one. First part of my plan out of the way, (which was getting a good parking space, although I did wait 10 minutes for a woman to unload her goods into a huge van), I head inside. I say hi to the night-shift greeter, he doesn’t have any top front teeth, but he’s always nice and speaks to me, so I don’t hold that against him. (I swear to you I am telling the truth). I make a dash for the cheesy gifts section to look for the product my mom mentioned, (an electric/battery operated foot massager that heats up), grab it and head to the beauty department. Gather my stuff, (I’m going to start rolling my own tampons because they’re getting too expensive), and head to the checkout.
Apparently I gave off some sort of signal to every single redneck/inbred in the store that was heading to the front because a wave of people followed. If you have never seen a redneck/inbred stampede, let me tell you now- you will be scarred for life. I find what I assumed was the best lane, #11, because the carts of the 3000 people in front of me weren’t pile high with food. Ok, I was wrong. My plan was not working. I spent the next 35 minutes listening to two inbreds discuss hunting, if turkey or ham was better tastin’, if some uncle would like the miniature tackle box they bought him, (I swear I think it was a kid’s tackle box-that’s how small it was), and them laughing at a magazine cover with a half naked chick on it that said, “Good Sex: Holiday Style.” Some of you may ask, “Beth, how do you know these people were inbreds?” Quite simple to spot. Big ears, goofy smile and the look. Watch Deliverance and you’ll know what I mean. One other give-away, she needed to shave and he didn’t.
It doesn’t end here, people. Once they actually paid for their crap, they meet up with relatives/friends at the end of the lane and begin to talk. Or, should I say, yell. The relatives/friends were a couple, the woman about 400 pounds wearing pajama bottoms, what was once a white t-shirt and flip-flops. The man, maybe 150 pounds when wet and about 5ft tall, camo pants and again, what was once a white t-shirt. I was trapped. I managed to put most of my things on the belt, but the idiots would not move-until the cashier went nutso on them. Yes, that’s right, a Wal Mart cashier lost it briefly. I can’t make this stuff up and I wish I had a video camera I could pin on my shirt to record all of these moments. The inbred group finally moved, the cashier apologized to me, at which point I laughed and said, “It isn’t your fault,” and made it out the door safe. I learned my lesson- do not, under any circumstances, go to Wal Mart on a Friday night before Christmas. It’s a death wish. Oh, and the inbreds? I saw the couple I stood behind for over 30 minutes getting into a brand new Mustang. Welfare has been good to them.
I Feel Like The Lucy Ricardo Of The Blogosphere.
For those of you who have watched the old episodes of I Love Lucy, you may understand this post. Remember the trouble Lucy went through to get a part in a show of Ricky’s, or the antics of her an Ethel just to accomplish a simple task? In the end Lucy would lose, make a fool of herself, with no appreciation from Ricky for what she had tried and the trouble she went through, (or got herself in), to do it. I’m Lucy, and the blogosphere is Ricky.
This post may offend some of you. Although I never name names, you’ll be wondering, “Is she talking about me?” All I can say is this-If you’re reading my blog and actively participating, then most likely, no, the post has nothing to do with you.
What the hell do I mean, you ask? I just fell off the Most Popular section on EntreCard. It was a good 3 week run. It isn’t the fact of not being in the Most Popular section that pisses me off, it’s the fact I worked so hard to convince people to utilize the service as it should work- find new blogs, comment, actively participate and read. For the first 2 weeks of using EntreCard-it worked. I found new blogs to read, other bloggers found me and we were actually communicating through our blogs, giving linky love and general banter. Then, during the last week, the influx of new blogs changed this-the cliques formed and the bad side of social networking began to show. I can honestly say only a handful of blogs listed on the Most Popular section actually deserve that status. I have lost count of the messages I have received via my blog, EntreCard and other social networking sites asking me to “vote for me on this,” “do me a favor and pick me for this,”- I’ve done so for 5 bloggers who have asked, only because their blogs are those I enjoy reading. I’ve felt as if I’ve been voting for the class President in High School.
Why are bloggers selfish? I don’t know. I really thought EntreCard could work, and although it brings me over 200 visitors a day, only a small percentage are considered “good traffic.” Most drop and run and probably don’t take the time to read even the first post. All I can say is this, I tried. And just like Lucy, no appreciation from Ricky for making an effort. I’ll go on blogging, bringing my odd humor to those who enjoy it, my serious side when needed and my always visible girlie geek side because it’s a part of who I am. If you have ever wanted to know the most important blogging tip of all- blog for you, not for the sake of reaching some sort of blogging clique status.
