I have tried really hard over the past couple months to not write about remarkably stupid things that will bore the masses in the event that I get lucky enough to have masses reading this blog.
But something has my panties in a bunch and it is not a wedgie.
My blowdryer is dying. Slowly and tragically. I suppose, had I woken up Friday morning, and found myself with a completely dead blowdryer, I would have been more devastated. Although that would have propelled me to run out post haste and purchase a new one that has fancy words like tourmaline and ionic and given me the hopes of becoming an X-(Wo)man. I mean, seriously, the ability to dry things instantaneously would be awesome, I’m pretty sure. But we’ll never really know, I suppose; at least not until I actually go to a store and spend exorbitant amounts of money on something that very well may die within a year like this one.
Alas, it was not completely dead, and I am just stubborn enough to feel ridiculous purchasing replacement items for things that are still technically usable. Example: I am still toting around a 2nd generation iPod Nano in all its 2 GB glory. It doesn’t hold a charge like it used to and the screen is cracked and also it is SIX YEARS OLD, but when I plug the headphones in, it produces music. So until that thing bites the proverbial dust, I’m keeping it around.
Seriously, you think 2 GB is a substantial amount of storage but it isn’t really. Trickery.
I’m not quite sure how to exactly explain what my blowdryer’s been doing as of late, but it has involved my plugging it into nearly every outlet in our bathroom, bedroom, and hallway (yes, hallway), pushing the test/reset buttons about three times a morning, and sitting on the floor (it dies when I stand, it dries when I sit. I’m still confused by this.) I should purchase a new one, I realize. Sitting on the floor, blowdrying my hair without a mirror, is becoming something of a nuisance. Yesterday, Husband stepped over me, singing “… lying naked on the floor …” as he went past. That right there is a signal that things need to change. Also, in the event that you are my mother and are completely mortified, don’t worry — I wasn’t actually naked. Yes, I just wrote naked multiple times in a row on my blog. I love you.
Also, you’d think with all the technology out there; you know, the ability to put men out in space and instructions on how to change a copier toner cartridge in fifteen different languages would infer that there would be people on this planet who can fix blowdryers.
Yeah, you never thought about how no one can fix them till now, did you?
So. Any tips on where I might get one?
This is me actually asking you.
Okay, this is me actually desperate for people to comment on my blog.