My iPod battery died, leaving me with about ten minutes of playing time before crapping out completely. I’ve had it for about five or six years, so I found this reasonable.

So, I went over to the Apple site to see about getting myself a replacement. They wanted me to send the Pod in and asked for sixty bucks.

Sixty bucks seemed like an awful lot, so I went to eBay.

EBay had batteries for eight bucks, and they came with the tools required for opening up the Pod. I immediately ordered one and told myseld that this would be as easy as pie.

Or else they wouldn’t sell them on eBay, right?

Right.

The battery arrived in about a week, along with a tiny plastic crowbar and no directions and the recommendation that you take your Pod to a technician.

Did I listen?

Of course not.

I looked up “how to change an iPod battery” on the internet and watched an instruction video about 12 times, and then I went to town.

It is not all super-extra easy to pry an iPod apart. At least it wasn’t for me. Maybe mine was extra-stubborn. All I know is that I bent my fucking screen.

Yes.

There was much swearing.

After the storm of swearing abated and the iPod was apart, I disconnected the old battery and connected the new one, and that was easy enough, but then the hard drive fell out. I picked it up, looked at it, and sort of stuffed it back in there.

You are probably laughing at me right now.

Then I smashed the Pod back together and stuffed it into the charger, praying to whatever technological god might take pity upon me.

Unfortunately the technological gods were not smiling down upon me, and it did not work. I was bereft. I had broken my baby. I was an idiot, an ass. I should never have monkeyed around with it. I should not have been a cheapass, and I should have sent it to Apple.

My dad came over last night. He knows nothing about iPods, but he is sort of an electronics genius, so he offered to take a look at it.

We opened it up.

“Well, JEN, you didn’t connect the hard drive.”
“I didn’t?”
“No.”
“Oh!!”
“And you didn’t connect this battery cable right.”
“Oh!!”
“And the screen is bent.”
“Yeah, I’m aware of that.”
“I can’t fix that.”
“I know.”
“You should have just given it to me to fix.”
“I know, Dad. I know.”

Let this be a lesson to those of you who are do-it-yourself-ers prone to cheapassery: DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME.

I can still use my Pod on shuffle, but the screen is basically a blur of alien language.

Grrrr.

I think I may soon sell a bunch of crap on eBay (including two very pristine pairs of Doc Martens, including my BURGUNDY PATENT LEATHER Doc Martens, if you’re interested) and buy myself a 160G Classic.

So, remember how I lost twelve pounds last week and was all excited?

This week?

Not an ounce.

Not a single ounce.

I went up to a thousand calories a day, because my father and also a couple of readers and the internet in general suggested I wasn’t eating enough, and I think I am at a plateau.

I am furious, but I’m trying to deal, to keep going, and not to cheat because I’m pissed off.

Sigh.

Happy Thursday.

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