I love my iPod. I love it so much that I'll make sure the "i" is not capitalized, but the "P" is. I love my iPod. I (surprisingly) haven't named it, but I love it.
(This is obviously not an actual photo of MY iPod, because:
1. I probably would not have this song on my iPod at this very second, and
2. My camera had a fatal run-in with a whole lot of sand while I was in Ireland, but that's another story altogether.)
Anyway, my iPod is great. Reliable. iPod mini, 1st generation. Older, gray, and a little dull, but it does everything I need it to. And it was the first one with the click wheel!
And the thing that make me most excited about my iPod is that...I can listen to it...and nobody else has ANY CLUE WHAT I AM LISTENING TO. It's amazing. I can listen to the Backstreet Boys. I can listen to High School Musical 2. I can listen to "MMMBop" the entire 15 minutes it takes me to cross campus, and NOBODY KNOWS. It's great.
(Disclaimer: Yes, I understand the idea of "good" music. I play music. And if you catch me on a good day, I might even listen to this "good" music of yours. It's just that whenever I listen to music, I tend to lean towards...junk. You're dealing with a girl who could eat pizza every day and thinks that anything is a well-balanced meal if you add a glass of chocolate milk. You shouldn't be surprised.)
I love that I can listen to guilty pleasure tunes on my iPod.
However, my relationship with the iPod craze took a drastic turn while I was in Europe.
And I'm going to blame it on the tektonic kids.
The tektonic kids, with their fauxhawks and neon clothes and flashy dance moves, have this really awful habit of letting everyone else on the bus listen to their music. They play MP3s on their cell phones. They carry tiny little speakers. And they have IN/OUT headphones, especially created to let you and everyone around you hear their techno beats.
I wasn't a huge fan of the tektonic kids when I spent most of my time riding buses around Dijon.
So here I am, sitting in the library, when another student comes and sits down next to me. He's got an iPod. He puts in his ear buds, turns it on, and turns up his music reeeeal loud. Oh boy.
Okay, I've got to admit, his music is pretty good, but doesn't he KNOW what he's missing out on? Doesn't he KNOW about the joy of top secret aural entertainment?
It's okay, iPod. I get it. My secret's safe with you.
And for your viewing pleasure...