Picture it:
A girl.
Her iPod.
Her dad fixing the iPod.
A girl.


The hope and promise that soon the girl and her iPod would be together again sharing in the beauty that is R. Kelly's "Remix to Ignition."
Yeah, I was that girl once.
And then last night it all came crashing down when my dad called me (while Corey and I were running the track at East Detroit High School and I had to rush to unzip the phone from the pocket in the back of my stretchy running capris [nice visual, no?] all out of breath and trying to stop Hannah Montana's "Rockstar" from blaring so effing loud it could summon preteen girls from miles around) and told me the news: He couldn't fix it.
And I almost cried right there on the track. I was already close to tears because running the track makes you feel like a big fat kid when you realize that you can't even do the half mile straight after skipping out on El Gymo for a month. But still, it was like, real sad.
But today I got the iPod back from my dad.
I dipped a Q-tip in acetone (of which we have a large jug in the garage for some reason. I don't know. Ask my brother.) and stuck it into the audio port to dissolve the Superglue.
Some cotton stayed when I pulled the Q-tip out and so I grabbed a toothpick and scraped it out.
Just then, I felt the piece of metal move. OH MY GOD, IT MOVED!
So I reached in, and pulled it out! IT CAME OUT!!!!
And I danced around, piece of metal in hand screaming, "YES YES YES!" like I was in an Herbal Essences commercial!
And then I woke up.
Goddamnit.
Love,
Katie
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