Things that make me ________
Somehow the little gray cap popped off, but I can't find it. My one-of-a-kind tough-as-nails iPod is finally starting to slip into oblivion as well. It's a first generation, which I bought for a pittance out of the Apple refurbished stock a little over three years ago. I dare you to name another iPod that's lasted half that long! You can't. Mine's been battered and abused and overused, but it just keeps truckin'. But, I'm finally starting to see battery failure, lasting a meager 2.5 hours to it's original 8. Ah, still, can't quite justify a new one yet. I'll just have to pretend I'm one of those people who buys black headphones so people won't think they're some bourgeois trendy iPod person.
Um, wtf? My keyboard just totally stopped working and I had to reboot. This is what I get for letting the warrenty expire without shelling out for AppleCare this time. Stupid free computers.
Spending hard cash! It turns out that when you work all day and go out every night, you start to get behind in things. Many of these things I'm going to do tonight, like turn on the gas/internet/phone at my new place, talk to this girl I'm doing a freelance project for that keeps changing it's shape every few weeks, but more importantly, SHOP! I've been putting off buying my couch, so I'm going to break out the cards and do it. Also, the camera I want. I really need to buy it far enough ahead of my trip so I get to know all the functions by heart. What else? Oh, probably this slammin' pair of boots I've been coveting for awhile now, and if I'm going to lay down a grand, we might as well go all the way with this boat show, am I right? Also, they're fucking hot. I've always considered women who wear skirts in winter to be crazy, and I'm about to join their ranks. Hottly.
Rebecca sent me this link to Paperback Swap today. She described as a Netflix for books, and omg, if that's not the best thing ever. Rebecca, I'm serious, I think I love you. First you txt me with google calculator answers and now this. Let's move to New Jersey and get married.
This weekend is the big furniture move, but it's all, like the rest of this thing, logistically problematic. I'm picking up the SUV I rented at 5:30 tomorrow and braving rush hour traffic to pick up my mattress in Tenleytown (they could have delivered it for a ridiculous fee, but I was going to have the SUV anyway), then come home hopefully in time for the mass exodus to Chinatown to see Borat with 100 of my closest friends. And by closest friends, I mean the 100 people Paul sent his evite to, about five of whom I actually know. I may cajole both the roommates to go. Saturday morning is Ikea time, so the roommates and I are heading to College Park at the ass-crack of dawn, no doubt with a stop at Dunkin' Donuts, to fill the SUV with Swedish furniture. I'm worried that they won't have my bed stocked, which will leave me totally, totally fucked, because my subletter arrives Sunday and will probably be expecting to sleep somewhere. Ah well.
I'm off to shop!