Life, Liberty & Pursuit Of Your Boyfriend

I am trying my best to not let October suck the life out of me. I have practically ignored everything that has been thrown at me (yet playing into all those insomnia episodes anyway).

But then yesterday happened. October 28. Almost to the end of the month…

And Esteban decided he no longer wanted to be “touched there.” There was a half-inch row on my iPod Touch that, well, couldn’t be touched. The space where my settings icon was located, the row to forward/shuffle music, the line where I check my first two email accounts… foreign finger territory. After syncing, resetting…  crying (ok, maybe internally), I took Esteban to the Genius Bar at the new Apple store in Crocker Park after work.

*sigh*

He was… Replaced.

Completely swapped for the replacement player. Esteban went off to recycled iPod land. But not before the hottie Apple store Geeks scroll through my e-mails, contacts and photo albums Seriously, you can pass along any info to the hot Concierge with the fucking sweet forearm tattoo… please.

So, I got this newbie iPod Touch, hottie Hinske. I expect great things from this one.

And in the grand scheme of everything, it’s just another piece of fucking technology to add to the list of my problems this year: fucking Mac desktop doesn’t connect to the internet (even though it shows connected to internet) and will no longer pull songs from CDs to add to iTunes, my laptop burns through wifi cards for some reason and no longer works without a power cord and freezes up in the middle of trying to write anything, cell phones don’t cover where they’re supposed to be usable, ex-boyfriends hide laptops given to me, yet think that I would steal it when he broke up with me (I wouldn’t take it anyway, but what-the-fuck ever)…

Moving on, by the time I rushed home from the Apple store, I didn’t hear the update before driving to Matinee that the Pale Young Gentlemen show was fucking canceled. I guess their van broke down some hour-and-a-half away from Cleveland. Argh… the replacement band more than sucked. There was nobody there either, and this would have been an AWESOME show for them (or me). I left after two beers, and actually quite moody from it all. And it’s hailing. And SSD texted me.

But prior to the show (actually as I was exiting on West 25th), my mother calls to tell me that my little sister is in the hospital. It’s really nothing overly-serious (kidney stones), but with her being pregnant, there is a risk of premature labor if she needs surgery (which the doctors are deciding some time today). And she is not due until March. So, she’s freaked out, I’m freaked out. I called her on my way to work, and I just started crying after I hung up the phone. I want to crawl in a hole because I really can’t take much more.

Seriously. FUCK. ROCKtober isn’t working.