I Can't Live Without My Radio

If you hadn't noticed by now, every blog is a song title. My life has a soundtrack. When I reminisce there is always a song attached to every memory. I know song lyrics the way my dad always wished I could memorize the reasons for World War I (militarism, imperialism, globalism and ?) or the quadratic equation. Something devastating happened today. My baby, my best friend, my most treasured piece of technology has passed on. He had been on the fritz for awhile. I got him for Christmas in 2004. He completely changed my life. Suddenly I had access to all of my music at once. Suddenly no matter where I was I could listen to whatever I wanted. Suddenly I could purchase music and have it immediately on my I-Pod and listen to it immediately. I could pick the live version, the remix or the radio version. I could buy all three. I could listen to the first 30 seconds to determine if I really wanted it and then decide whether or not to make my purchase. Now not any more. Now my baby is gone gone gone gone.


I got a few blips out of him yesterday. Then at the end of the day the screen said something about disk mode and I couldn't get it to restart or play or turn off. I couldn't get it to do anything. So I brought it to the Genius Bar at the Apple Store next to FAO Schwarz this morning. I had high hopes. They are geniuses and all. While I proudly characterize myself as a 'tech-NO;' they can fix things. They aren't scared of breaking the gadget. They don't get frustrated and want to throw it against the wall. They don't get frustrated and curse at it and then get scared they broke it more. I do. The peril of being impatient and technologically retarded is that you actually try to fix these inanimate objects by pressing different combinations of buttons, yelling, restarting a thousand times etc with no clue what you are doing. I am too impatient to consult the manual and too impatient to wait on hold for the next available representative to assist me. So I believed that I did something stupid like I do and that the geniuses would be able to fix my baby. I was wrong. It didn't take more than a moment to get the diagnosis. The genius tried to restart it. He hooked it up to his computer. He held it to his ear. Then he told me he was sorry to be the bearer of the bad news. He's not going to make it. He's gone for good. I impressed upon him the importance of fixing it NOW - my computer is in the shop, I have no access to music if I don't have my ipod and not having access to music is not an option. "What do you expect me to do, listen to the radio?" I asked him?! Come on! I NEED MY MUSIC. He smiled at me, told me he was sorry, but there really wasn't anything he could do.

So here I am, no way to get the music off my corrupted i-pod, no access to the music library on my computer. The genius told me I had a couple of options. In exchange for my corrupted I-pod, I could get 10% off a new one or I could buy a refurbished version of mine at a discounted rate. As it turned out, a new one was cheaper than a refurbished version of mine. I waited on line. A cute boy was at the register. I handed him my I-Pod. He said, "people get really attached to their i-pods, but think about the environment, you're recycling, we're going to use your i-pod to fix other i-pods." Was that supposed to make me feel good? It didn't. I said, "I feel like I am donating my organs." My computer, my i-pod and I have been together since December 2004. They were both part of my new, post-Illinois, post-losing babies, post President Street, post big law firm life. And now they are both gone.

How could I be without music? You may as well take my organs. You're taking my baby's organs. This is tragic. This is inconvenient. This is unreal. I no longer own a CD player. I don't have a casette player either. Everything is on my I-pod. Everything is on my computer. My music and my lyrics. My life story. My life. Me. How can it all be gone? This is like the dichotomy between sick Briana and Briana. Yesterday Dr. Lax told me that I am not good at being sick. I said,"you're right, I can't live like this. This isn't me" I told him that I am starting to get depressed realizing that I will have to deal with annoying side effects, constant vigilance, toxic drugs and lots of them, and ER trips for the rest of my life. He reminded me that there is another option. Surgery. Removal of my entire large intestine. Scary Scary Scary. And anyway, I had knee surgery thinking I would end up with a bionic knee. I don't have a bionic knee. My left knee is better than it was pre-surgery but it's no bionic knee, far from it. Anyway the surgery may effect fertility and until I've had babies I refuse to mess around down there anymore than I already have.

It's all about accepting what you don't want to accept. Understanding on a deeper level that certain parts of your life are over. Hoping that new, good things will replace them. Having the courage to try instead of feeling angry at the world and defeated. Being able to take no for an answer instead of fighting a losing battle. See none of that is me. I don't accept. I have refused break-ups. I have refused everything I didn't want to be true and fought for what I wanted as hard as I could despite advice to the contrary. I've finished races with my feet bleeding. When I know I've fought my hardest, then I know I can fold. Otherwise, I have trouble doing so. I never want to blame myself for not achieving something. I want to be able to console myself with the knowledge that I fought the good fight. But what about when the war is amorphous? My I-pod is something I couldn't begin to imagine how to fix. If the genius says it's over, I have to believe him. I don't want to but what else can I do? I have no other options! Same with my health.

This is not my comfort zone. I like to be in control and I like to feel omnipotent. What the hell am I going to do with no music? Obviously I am going to have to deal and find something else - this coming from the girl who wears her I-pod on the train ride home and upon entering the house plugs it immediately into the speakers. Not cool. I have to accept it, being angry won't help. Anyway, I've been angry all morning. I've been angry and upset and frustrated all morning and I was angry and upset and frustrated yesterday after leaving the doctor so much so that I didn't go back to work. Enough. But I can't LIVE WITHOUT MY RADIO. Music would help with this. It's like how when I needed a run the most, I was on crutches. Why the constant challenge? I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT MY RADIO.