Officially. Out. Of the box.

Never again. I am never going outside my little box again. Never.

Did I mention NEVER?

Remember a few blogs ago, when I said I wanted to clean out my ipod and make room for some new/different tunes? Well that's never going to happen again. From now on, I'll just spend the money and buy a new iPod when the one I have is full. Steve Jobs, you now officially have my soul. I guess you need it, as you sold yours a long time ago...

Let me back up.

This morning, I innocently plugged in my laptop to charge it, preparing for my out-of-box-stepping at lunch. Then, I plugged in the USB for my iPod. Then, a little box shows up (as it always does when I plug in my iPod) “Scan Device or Continue without Scanning”.

So, yeah, you guessed it. I hit the wrong one.

My iPod FORMATTED.

ERASED.

EVERYTHING.

My life is over.

Okay. Not really.

But it felt that way when I clicked on the first playlist to delete and it was empty. Here's the thing. I don't buy my music from iTunes. I get it elsewhere. I don't buy my music from iTunes because I refuse to give my entire soul to Steve Jobs. So, there is no emailing iTunes and saying, “Um, please send me my library because well, apparently, I'm a dumbass.”

So it's back to the drawing board. I still have some music on my hard drive. Thankfully, I am so obsessed with The Beatles that I will never delete them. That's a lot. And I have the entire collection of Simon & Garfunkel, and Paul Simon. I have a couple other random albums stored on my computer. Then, there are my CDs. Unfortunately, there isn't much to do with them, as I haven't bought a CD in over five years. So now, I must go elsewhere.

Mission accomplished, I suppose. I told you that I wanted to clean out my ears and get a fresh start. I did just that. Step out of my box? Check. Big mistake? Double Check.

So, for the next few evenings. I'll be crying over my computer trying desperately to find the music that I was not going to delete. And, though I will not be purchasing them from iTunes, I will utilize the “Genius” function to see it there are any fun titles based on what I have inserted on my newly-empty iPod. Maybe this could be fun!

Later. When it's done. That's when it will be fun.

I will say, I am excited to have three new bands on my iPod. Kelly has given me Vampire Weekend. (You may remember them from my post about the Oxford Comma song.) That song was the only one by them I had, and only because it was about the Oxford Comma. But, I now have two of their albums on my iPod and am excited to hear more from them. Then, there is Marva Wright, a blues singer from Louisiana. I found her through my friend Pam, and this woman can sing the blues like crazy! There's a feeling of being in a smoky bar, maybe in the 50s or 60s, when she is singing. I believe she will bring delight to many of my journeys.  And then there's Lady Antebellum.  Amazing.  Guitar riffs and vocals that will blow your mind.  Thanks, Ric, for the suggestion.  Thanks, all of you, for your expansion of my being.

On that note, if any of you have any suggestions, please send them onward. I am looking to fill my life with my old standards, and find some new ones.   With your comments, I promise to try to find your suggestions and give it a listen.

So much for not ever getting out of my box again.  I think maybe this could be an interesting new path. 
So here's to new beginnings. New journeys.

Dating 101...or How NOT to get a second date with me

So I recently went on a "date".  Many of you who know me know that I do not use "quotes" often.  (I especially hate them, except when they are there for actual "quotes" as in, something someone said. And I extra-especially hate “finger quotes”. But this post isn't about my grammar-superstar status. We'll talk about that another time.) But I use “quotes” here because, well, I'm trying to convince you that though it was technically a date, I would hope I never have a date like that again.
So, back to my evening of, um, my evening of...
I don't even know where to begin here. So I'll just make a list of key pointers, in the event that potential future daters read this and want a leg up in my book.

1. Do NOT tell me about your sword collection. It is not a good way to start off. It does not impress the ladies. It would be better to ask me to join your D&D squad or whatever D&D groups are called. At least that is fictional violence.  I do not like violence.  Of any kind.  Even if it is hanging on the wall.  Or is a collection.  (It seems to me that the word collection should have been in quotes.)
Estimated time of second date: The year 2063.  (I'll be 87, and probably won't remember you have them.)

2. Do NOT tell me that you believe animals were meant to be outside. We live in the city.
Oh, and don't try to explain to me about farm animals, farm dogs, and small town dogs. Don't tell me about living in that life, I'm from a town of 300 people in Nebraska. I get it. I don't need your expertise. I have my own. 
We live in the city. Dogs, cats, pets do NOT belong outside here. Oh, on this note, do NOT tell me that you are a cat person. Date. Over.
Estimated time till second date: The year 2064.  (I'll be 88 and incapable of taking myself to the bathroom, much less a dog.)

3. Do NOT ask me if I have/want kids on the first date. And when I tell you no, I do not have them, do NOT answer “That's impressive.” Based on that statement, these are my questions for you (in no particular order):

* Is it impressive because I am know this about myself and do not care what people think about it?

* Is it impressive that I have a brain that knows how to accomplish what I want (i.e. no kids)?

* Is it impressive that I am this old and have yet to succumb to the tick of some inner-time-bomb-type noise that is in all women, except, apparently, me?
No, none of these points are impressive.  They are facts.  They are the way responsible women who do NOT want kids avoid such a fate. 

And when I tell you I do not want them, do NOT answer “I want a lot of kids.”  Estimated time till second date: The year 2065.  (I'll be 89 and probably incapable of child-bearing.  Therefore, no longer an issue.)


4. Do NOT be an adult and not have a driver's license. I am not a chauffeur or a soccer mom. I will not be dragging your ass around.
Estimated time till second date: The year 2066.  (I'll hit the big 9-0 that year, and probably be too blind to drive.  We'll hire that nice teenager down the street to drive us to the pharmacy and to various doctor appointments, and say embarrassing things to him, such as, "When I was your age, car backseats were bigger and easier to make out in!")

These are just pointers, of course. If you'll excuse me, I must go home and peacefully protest, let the inside dog out, and count my birth control as I praise Jesus for the freedom of being an independent woman in the 21st Century.