My iPhone is like a baby. I’ve named it. I have a tendency to take it picture at various occasions. There has been some definite Facebook tagging. And I can’t count the number of nights I’ve been up with it because it’s sick.
My iPhone(s) seems to have serious problems with the iPod software. Like, after awhile, it doesn’t enjoy playing songs in order. I know. I know. Children are starving and orphaned and living in rubble in Haiti. I’m not saying that the fact that Josh Groban’s discography is not in sequence is the most pressing issue of the day, but I will say that for how much money Apple charges, it should work.
And it happens all the time. Much like a child with a persistent ear infection, I have spent numerous nights restoring. And restoring again. And on hold with the Apple people. And booking appointments at the Genius Bar. (Hi Jason! Jason probably knows me by now, I’m such a frequent customer.) And crying from exhaustion because WHY WON’T YOU JUST TELL ME WHAT’S WRONG IT’S ONE O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING???
*ahem* Yes. That may have almost happened once.
Heloise fell ill again this morning, and I, like a good mother, ignored her when I got home because I was exhausted seriously five classes straight I am TIRED y’all, I do not CARE that I’m 22 and in fairly decent shape you talk to me after running all over campus from 9:30 until 5. And…now we’re in the process of uploading all 600 songs back on.
Fanfreakingtastic. I’m going to bed. They don’t make iPhone Motrin.
Can I just say- iPhones. Are AMAZING. When they work. And when they don’t. Well, then not so much. They’re fun and awesome and I don’t really regret buying mine at all, but wow, so much hassle. Seriously. Blackberry. Way. To. Go.