Wow. I love how incredibly optimistic and enthusiastic all my Facebook statuses have recently become.
Observe the trend:
August 18th: AJ Pinkerton was stopped at the California border today. Yoshi is apparently a non-native invasive species in the state of California and therefore may not enter the state. He moves to an adoption center for parrots in Phoenix tomorrow morning. Happy frickin birthday.
August 26th: AJ Pinkerton FAILS AT IRONING! >:O This is why God made girls
August 29th: AJ Pinkerton sans house, job, pet, and patience: miserable curmudgeon extraordinaire.
September 2nd: AJ Pinkerton is SICK OF GETTING HONKED AT / HIGH-BEAMED. IF YOU HATE MY LOS ANGELES DRIVING, GET OUT OF YOUR CAR TO TELL ME SO I CAN AT LEAST RUN YOU OVER. >:#
September 8th: AJ Pinkerton was welcomed to the neighborhood by someone who broke into his house and stole his Mac, iPod, and digital camera. It's the thought that counts.
September 11th: AJ Pinkerton is impressed. Only one murder and four rapes in his neighborhood this week. Crime apparently *does* call in sick...
September 16th: AJ Pinkerton 's college mail has finally -- officially -- bitten the dust.
September 20th: AJ Pinkerton just found more old photos of his parrot and ignited his vengeance against California once again. How about keeping fricken robbers out of my house instead of beloved pets?
September 21st: AJ Pinkerton thinks that if life's gotta be a roller coaster, then he'd rather it be a kiddy one. The kind that looks like a big caterpillar and goes in circles, and just has little bumps in it.
September 23rd: AJ Pinkerton thinks California should've just handed him a "We Hate You; Go Away" packet when he first arrived, so at least he could keep track of all the documentation.
On the plus side, I don't quite qualify as Emo. On the downside, I'm pissed off all the time. It's an awkward trade.
While I'm blogging, how about this little story: to make up for my iPod being snatched, I picked up a (GET THIS!) portable CD player for my car instead, and a bunch of blank CDs to make mixes out of. I went home and got right to work on the first one: BADASS MUSIC FOR THE FAINT OF HEART, so I can at least feel dark and scary and brood in honking traffic to something angry and sinister playing. BUT...
The CDs don't work. I don't mean, they don't sound right, or they bend too easily, or they don't fly well when you throw them. I mean, plain and simply, that you can't do anything with them. Neither the computer nor the CD player will touch them.
Blank CDs. CD-Rs, more technically. You know, the kind that have been around since the 90's.
I found it funny that I was even buying them, as I've grown far more accustomed to picking up hard drives, or packs of DVDs at least, than writable CD media. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and I needed music. But who would have thought that here, in 2009, at a Los Angeles Staples, I could lay down $8 on a pack of CD-Rs that get less response from my computer than when I jam a piece of buttered toast in the disc drive.
(Maybe I should try saving my playlist onto some buttered toast...)
Just to verify that the discs, and not my drive, were the problem, I borrowed a disc from a roommate and it worked like a charm. So the story has a happy ending -- I have BADASS MUSIC FOR THE FAINT OF HEART for my drive to get a smog test tomorrow -- but I also have 50 blank CDs to do absolutely nothing with. Hot.
And then, while drowning my sorrows at Burger King, they screwed up every element of my three-item order. I didn't even bring any of it back.
