So yesterday My iPod finally did it: it died a noisy, angry death. I got the Sad iPod.

I'd seen the Sad Mac once or twice during my years as a high-powered magazine editor (one time the Mac even made a sound like a fiery car-wreck to highlight its distress at becoming completely inoperable without prior warning), but this is the first time I'd ever been personally confronted with its helpless, hopeless face.

And to add insult to injury, it took my iTunes with it when it crashed. I was forced to listen to my own thoughts all afternoon, and it's scary in here!

And yes, I probably should have predicted my old Mini's time was up, given that I'd dropped it on the sidewalk the night before while collecting my mail, but it still surprised and shocked me to bits.

Gone were the GBs of fabulous new music (Eagles of Death Metal, Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly, Kasabian), carefully selected from the crappier new music (Babyshambles) given to me by my new Scottish friends. Gone were the hundreds of songs from the office I'd never transferred over to my home computer because, frankly, it sucks ass these days. And gone was my sanity, zapped away randomly by a sad face and a link to Apple's support pages.

But since it is my Sweet 16 (plus 15) in a week, I've decided to turn my frown upside down by getting myself a new 30 GB video iPod. And if I make it through today music-free, I'll know I can make it after all.

(It probably doesn't hurt that I'm planning to listen to the Jays game all afternoon on my Homer-head radio.)