My iPod has decided to make my life a smidge more exciting. The screen is solid black. For a while, I assumed that meant death of the music. Turns out it just means death of control over the music–in this case, no access to the menu and thus constant shuffle. I could get a new iPod, but I feel like the current one deserves to run wild in the pasture for a bit before I send it to the glue factory. It’s been a faithful iPod for the past several years.
Horse analogies aside, I really have enjoyed the screen malfunction. Last night, as I was making tequila lime chicken marinade and carrot cake cupcakes (which a friend graciously accepted as breakfast food today, even though it’s really dessert… my kind of friend), I heard Ludacris’ How Low Can You Go followed by something or other by Patty Griffin. Then there was some Jack Johnson, some Kansas, (this next one makes me cringe) Jesse McCartney’s Leaving, back to bluegrass/country via Nickel Creek, and so it continued.
I usually just pick an artist or a genre and let the iPod do its thing, but this keeps me on my toes. The only jarring moment was when I fell asleep reading and woke up to something or other really loud. It wasn’t so bad though. I needed to ice the cupcakes anyway. (It’s a tough life.)