Okay, forget the other five programs that do all this. All you need is iPod Agent.
It puts weather, horoscopes, and movies on your iPod. It synchs with Outlook. AND IT EXPORTS THE LIBRARY OFF OF YOUR IPOD AND INTO ITUNES.
As I type I’m copying my iPod’s contents into my work machine’s installation of iTunes (I deleted the half-assed library that had already been there, since all that stuff’s already on the ‘pod anyway). HOW COOL IS THAT?
I almost just had a really bad day.
I got in the Jeep to run and grab something for lunch. I wiped my hand across my face…
…and my right contact lense fell out. IN MY DIRTY CAR. FILLED WITH DOG HAIR, DUST, MOUSE POOP, AND GARBAGE!
My heart stopped for a second, I think. Losing a contact is *such* a pain in the ass. If they’re more than a year old, you have to make an appointment for an exam – they won’t just make one up from your old prescription. A replacement contact ends up being about $85.
But all was not lost. I very carefully searched my clothing and the seat, and I FOUND THE THING between the seat and the center console. HOORAY! Good thing I had solution in my purse.
Brett called me at work at four yesterday to tell me he and my pop were at 1-Stop. At five, he called me back to say we’d all be stopping at The Dew Drop for a beer.
I got off work, rolled to Lib’ville, and had a cocktail. Then I had another. Then Brett took off. Dad and I stayed and chatted with Harry and Carla for awhile.
Then my damn dad bought me another cocktail. Three Dew Drop cocktails!
We went home, I heated up leftover kicheree and made a huge salad, we ate, and I was passed out by 8:30.
EIGHT-THIRTY, people.
Which is bad, because I woke up at 1:30 and was awake until 4:30. Ugh.
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Good news! You are no longer what you eat. You are what’s on your playlist.
(Whew. I was getting tired of being a Taco John’s potato ole bravo, no meat, add onions. It’s much better being an eclectic mix of soul, R&B, funk, and superpop.)
First of all, I’m pretty pleased with my outfit today. I’m doing a bit of a pink-and-black thing: black babydoll tee (it says “No, I will not fix your computer“), a pink sweater, a black skirt with pink polkadots, and black pants under the skirt. And I’m fairly blonde, too, from highlighting my hair the other day.
Second, my body’s trying to have a panic attack, the damn thing. My muscles are tense, my heartbeat’s irregular and thumpy, and I misdoubt I’m breathing quite normally. Ugh.
Third, my dad’s out at the house but I have to work ’til five. Brett just dropped by – he’s in town doing something or another – so dear ol’ dad’s out in the country alone. Maybe he’ll do the dishes. (Heh.)
Today’s search engine strings:
ttc blinkies – wisbar advance themes – periomenopause – pussy of color – huge pores – ping osx – mix pussy – matrix sanskrit – free blinkies – cobalt pop lock – tricked out saturn – chaz palmieri
The last two I do not understand at ALL. I mean, the only entry on my site with the word “Saturn” in it is not about a car, and my one reference to Chaz is about some Christmas special he directed that I watched last December.
My GOD I want a big pipe. (That means high-speed DSL, you perverts – I’ve already got ready access to the kind you were thinking of.) (Well. By “access” I mean as long as it’s ungodly early in the morning, or in the twenty minutes between dinner and and Brett’s bedtime at, like, eight.) I’m uploading images to Gallery in the background, and it’s so hideously SLOW. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.
When I got home at 11:30 on Thursday – after my several hours in the ‘studio’ – there was a white pickup I didn’t recognize in my driveway, and no husband in my house. Hmm. Shiva was gone, and Stella and Bindu had been sleeping on the bed. (Little bastardettes. I got a tick because they’d been on the bed!) Then I started hearing noises. Squeaky, weird noises. “What the fuck IS THAT?!” I demanded of the dogs. They just looked at me and held their own doggie counsel.
I investigated, afraid it was the largest rodent in the world living in my kitchen or something… but it was coming from UNDER THE STAIRS. Holy cow! FOUR PUPPIES, BABY-GATED UNDER THE STAIRS! So Ron must be here!
I finally got my cell charged enough to call the boys, and they were drunk in front of Torino’s – that’s all I learned before my phone died again. I went to bed, but got up an hour later to hug the hell out of Ron when they finally showed up out here. God, I love that boy.
Friday got up early and did some chores. Then I went to lunch at Revelations with Tahmi and Christina and had a great time. (I love hanging out with girls!) Later, I took a rather substantial afternoon nap. (I’m super into napping these days – it’s so relaxing. Plus I don’t sleep for shit at night.) Brett wanted me to get out of recording Friday night and go to Iowa City for dinner and to see Liquid Soul, but I had already committed and so he took Ron as his date.
I got home around midnight, and Brett and Ron rolled in around three. They walked silently in the door and went straight to bed, both of them. I could hear them both and they were both sound asleep within minutes of lying down.
Saturday I got up early again – before either of the men – and went to town to buy breakfast groceries. (I figured they’d be all hung over, and ready for bacon and eggs when they got up.) My dogs weren’t on the ball for some reason, so I took Prana with me on the drive. About five minutes before getting home with eggs and hashbrowns, Ron called my cell. I answered: “Hello! I’ve got your dog!” I said. “Oh good!” he replied. “Do you have any coffee?”
By the time I walked in the door Ron had coffee going. I made egg and tomato omelettes, bacon, rye toast, and hashbrowns, and we ate breakfast together at the picnic table since the weather was so drop-dead gorgeous.
I napped from ten to one, since I’d barely slept five hours the night before. When I woke up, Toby & Jeanne were here, picking out a puppy. I hung out with Jeanne for barely an hour before they left. Then I went to town to record.
(Recording’s almost done, by the way. Friday and Saturday I was singing backup vocals – very fun. I think I’m actually going to like the end result. It’s gonna sound good.)
I got home around seven, and had just enticed my beloved into bed when Ron arrived from dinner out with his mom. Brett got back up and promised me a raincheck, and I actually fell asleep early. Brett stayed up ’til midnight hanging out with Ron and playing GTA on Playstation.
This morning I got up early again, let the puppies out before they started squealing and barking, did the dishes, put on a pot of chai, and started laundry before the men were awake. It’s ten now, and I have to be at Tim Britton’s at two to record the final song on Jonas’ album. I’m going to try to post some images of the puppies, and then I think I might go highlight my hair with that box of hair color I bought two weeks ago.
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68% of the people who have visited this site in the past week are USING WINDOWS XP:
Startling. Shocking. Like, wow.
I think I’m gonna buy a Mac. Seriously. Maybe a Mac mini, even. Yes! (It’s cool, it’s basically *nix, you know.)
Normally I’m really good at balancing my checkbook. But sometimes even I blow it off for a few weeks. This morning I noticed an envelope from Central Valley Bank in the mail Brett had brought in, and it was too skinny to be a statement, so I opened it.
Two NSF checks paid, fees $44.00.
Whew – at least they were paid. But why am I bouncing checks? I think I’ve got about $129 in my account!
So I got online this morning and balanced my checkbook. I’ve bounced FOUR checks in the past two weeks, each with a $22 NSF fee. Okay, well, there’s $88 I no longer have. Hurumph. How did this start?
Turns out that in March I made a deposit that I recorded in my checkbook as being for $300, but my statement shows it as $200. So either I or the bank screwed up. Since banks rarely screw up, it must have been me.
When all was said and done, I was $29 in the red and had to make a deposit at lunchtime.
Friday morning, when I’ve got time, I’ll have to dig through my receipts just in case – there’s an outside chance it was a bank error so it’s worth finding out. It’s not like me to enter a deposit wrong, but we’ll see.
Damn, I hate it when checking goes bad. *sigh*
Holy shit! Lookit the date! I sure need to finish my fucking taxes already!