Tuesday, April 10, 2007

The New Diary

Remember when you were a pre-teen/teenager and the most embarrassing thing ever would be someone finding and reading your diary? I’ve discovered the modern day, adult equivalent—the iPod.

It’s universally accepted that my iPod is trying to kill me (and by universally, I mean accepted by anyone I’ve told to agree with me on this). But I have only recently recognized the real danger that is posed by the iPod. It is the danger of my secret thoughts, desires and fears being revealed. It’s the danger of someone else seeing what is actually on my iPod.

Picture me wearing a snazzy sweat suit—something matching that speaks more to a life of Eva Longoria’s character on “Desperate Housewives” than lumpy, pillow-like comfort of the life of Kate. I love to take long walks (preferably on the beach at sunset with George Clooney), so my iPod is with me. And in between bouts of rapidly impacting my moods and trying to trip me, the iPod is my friend (so, a good 2-3 minutes of solid musical friendship).

Now picture me actually meeting a man, who actually looks in my direction, who actually decides to give me the time of day (perhaps because I’ve literally asked him the time). Obviously, this is a recipe for a love connection. Beaches in Los Angeles are practically made for this kind of scene. I think for a quarter, you can actually get the lifeguards to turn up the “beach scene soundtrack” that is constantly playing so you get a realistic swell of sound as eyes meet and hands are held.

Now picture the man who was trying to hold my hand looking down at the album art that is now glaring from the bright white iPod screen. Yeah. His first words would undoubtedly be something along the lines of “Barry Manilow?” or “Captain & Tennille?” or “Air Supply?”. Really?”

Sure, I could bluff. “uh, yeah, it was in a compilation cd, and I didn’t uncheck it fast enough, and the iPod loaded it. Stupid iPod” (followed by an appropriately adorable kick of the sand). But let’s face it, there is no good bluff for the tune in question being at the top of the “Top 25 Most Played” list. And yes, it is possible for a happy person to listen repeatedly to music that involves love, loss, meeting after years, new year’s eve, buying beer at the grocery store, sitting in the car, getting out in the rain, seeing the other person drive away, never seeing them again, etc. Shut up. It is.

I’m just going to have to be honest. I am hopelessly uncool (because the sweatband and side ponytail probably wont give it away). I’m just going to have to keep the iPod screen covered. Or try to explain how my complete lack of “cool” is actually endearing because it makes me so “real”. Yeah… that’s it. I’m just keepin’ it real. Nice. That’s the one I’m going with the very next time out.

In the meantime, I’ll be trying to complete my 100 top 80’s songs nostalgia playlist.

Yep, shocking that I’m single, I know.

“don’t put another dime in the jukebox… I don’t wanna hear that song no more…”

Kate, your guide to the best in “oldies” (ugh), in LA

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