All that for an ipod

If you've known me for five minutes, you know I'm a compulsive shopper. If a company tells me through a series of flashy ads that my life will be all the better thanks to one effortlessly charged purchase, I'll believe it. Before the purchase, I will do nothing but daydream about all the ways in which I'll become a happier person because of the jacket/shoes/electronic goods/low carb cream filling/etc. Once I've bought whatever it is, I will spend anywhere from 30 minutes to two weeks enraptured in sheer joy.

However, when that product happened to be an ipod, my joy lasted the duration of my drive from the store in Burbank to my apartment. Because of my purchase, my computer crashed, I lost eight hours of sleep, almost got fired (from two different jobs), drove to the cable company three times in one day, found myself in a two-hour ride home from work and nearly missed having my car demolished by a falling tree.

Apple, you can take my ipod and shove it up your ass.

Once I returned home from Circuit City (where service is state of the art, unless you happen to speak English), I discovered something worse than the results of yesterday's election: I learned my computer had Windows 98, which is incompatible with the ipod software.

No problem, my roommate has Windows XP on her computer, so I borrowed her OS software. Oh, oops, using her version of the software completely erased my entire hard drive. With this distressing news, there was no way I could show up for work at my new job (waiting tables, you thought I found a job with a magazine?).

Instead, I called in and made up a horrible lie that guarantees me a hot spot in Hell next to Gargamel and Hitler. My boss, not taking pity on my plausible-yet-completely-fabricated circumstances, said he would require proof of my, er, misfortune (long story short, I still have my job thanks to the advent of the Internet).

Once I was all set to stay at home and tend to my computer, I called my computer-saavy friend and he guided me through fixing my computer by reinstalling Windows 98. After that, instead of sleeping, I drove to an all-night computer store (it's LA, don't ask) and purchased the recommended Windows XP upgrade software. Did I mention this computer store wasn't even in LA county? $99.99 later and God knows how much in gas, I was home again.

But my computer wouldn't take Windows XP because a crucial file somehow missed the Windows 98 reinstall I performed hours earlier. My God I sound like I know about computers, that's fascinating. Anyway, so I once again reinstalled Windows 98 and then installed the XP update. The XP upgrade took awhile, so I drifted off to sleep...

The phone rang. It was already 10:30 a.m. I was 30 minutes late for work at the sports club. Knowing how to quit while I'm ahead, I lied and said something evil that made Jesus weep.

Then I walked to the bakery, bought three donuts, came home, and decided that Windows XP (and my soon-to-be ipod) sucked without one crucial element I'd avoided during my 10 months in Los Angeles -- high-speed Internet.

You see, one of the reasons my posts have been so infrequent is that my cheap budget hasn't afforded me the luxury of high-speed. That's right, I've been using dial-up, and I'm not afraid to admit it. But enough of that. I figured that because I'm splurging on an ipod and a new operating system, I might as well have the best that life can give.

So I called my cable company and told them that I am dumber than a box of rocks, desperate for music, and completely in debt (i.e. "Sign this shit-eating bastard up for $45/month Internet service!")

I drove to the cable company (named Adelphia, located in the bustling nowhere of Van Nuys, which is somewhere between Sherman Oaks and a lot of homemade enchiladas). I picked up my self-install kit (after all, I had the whole day off thanks to my continued, er, misfortune...it's not everyday you have a last minute cat scan).

Ah, but Adelphia gave me the wrong software. I would have noticed this, but my commercially induced stupidity left me inept in matters of common sense. So I drove all the way back to Adelphia. And left my cell phone in the waiting room. So I drove all the way back to Adelphia. My spot in the burning blazes of eternity is now a more welcoming thought than the urine-stench of that predominantly Persian cable office.

Aaaaaaaanyway, I think that all happened yesterday. I know two things about yesterday 1) I voted and 2) my high-speed Internet never started working even after I completed the installation.

So I said, "Fuck it" and went to sleep.

This morning, those three glorious lights on my cable modem were all blinking at me. I was all set to finally download my ipod software and continue my love affair with laziness and stagnancy.

Unfortunately, I recalled the foggy notion of needing to work this morning, so I parted ways with my new toys and headed to Beverly Hills. Knowing I had my acting class at 7 this evening, I felt the two-hour window between 5 and 7 wasn't enough time to indulge in ipod (not counting the 30-minute drive home from work). So, at 4:15, I became really sick and went home.

And that's where God's hand smacked me.

I was headed up Coldwater Canyon as usual, drooling at the thought of downloading music (and sleeping before class). Oh, but what's this? Coldwater Canyon was backed up all the way to Mid-Wilshire (that means about a 90-minute ride home). So I drove down Santa Monica Blvd to Laurel Canyon Blvd. I took a left on Laurel and..bam. Nothing. For an entire hour, my car did not move. The cars in front of it did not move. The cars behind it did not move. In fact, I fell asleep for 25 minutes and suffered nothing for sleeping behind the wheel.

By 6:05, I was still in my car and could have gained more ground on foot. Then, thanks to AM radio, I realized why Laurel Canyon was so backed up. A giant palm tree had fallen in the middle of the road, and apparently others were soon to follow. Well, number two decided it had waited long enough in that dry California ground, so without even yelling "Timber," it came at me.

I got off without a scratch. The car in front of me, well, that was what God used to warn me.

All that because I wanted to get home and listen to my ipod.

Instead, I went to class, which lasts three hours. However, I informed that instructor that I would have to leave early tonight to tend to my, er, misfortune. And I'm happy to report that for the past four hours, my misfortune and I have been making up for lost time.