I have come to a very simple conclusion about myself. After years of (kind of) striving, after working (a little) hard to build a certain image, I have to admit it: I will never have hipster cool. Want an example? Of course you do. And I bet you want this example in poorly thought-out “realtime” with lots of direct quotations, too.
A few days ago, my friend Chris got a new mp3 player — a monster of a thing called, if I am not mistaken, a Zune. It rocks. It rocks so hard that he gave me his old player, a little 1GB Wal-Mart jobbie. I love it. I've been secretly drooling over mp3 players for years, to wit: “Honey, look! See that girl? She has ironic hair and a silver iPod! She must be jamming out and also have a post-punk, poetic boyfriend who adores her dramatic eyeliner and geometric shirts!”
The problem is, I can't seem to get used to this thing. Whereas cool kids pull out their players all, “Oh, I am so weary of the world, I must somehow block it out, what shall I do, I guess I'll listen to The Postal Service,” I go like this: “It's boring in here. Jeez, it's so quiet. What can I do? OH MY GOD! I HAVE AN MP3 PLAYER! I SHALL NOW LISTEN TO BON JOVI AT TOP VOLUME! ISN'T THIS JUST NIFTY!”
Help me, people. How do I become acquainted with technology? (I also recently got the world's BEST, CUTEST digital camera… and I always forget to either a) carry it or b) use it.) I still have no idea what to do with my (6-year-old, clunky) cell phone.
(Also, and as always, why don't y'all email me some damn music? Rumor has it that I could put mp3s from my email onto my player and carry little pieces of you around with me, like a serial killer but less gory.)
ETA: , what happened to your email? I've been trying to email you for days.