Come Into The Closet

Years ago, I’ll never forget it as long as I live, when my beagle was alive, I learned there was truth in Pavlov’s theory. On the first night after the basement was finished and the bedroom moved down there and it was time to hit the hay, Wiffy was nowhere to be found. Usually she was under my feet, whether I was sitting on the couch or trying to navigate on foot, going from one room to another, trying not to trip over her and certainly at bedtime she was in my spot, making herself so big, I had to squeeze into whatever space remained. So, that night, I found her, standing, with a dumbfounded WTF look on her face at the indentation in the carpet where the foot of the bed was just hours before. She knew it was bedtime, but hadn’t registered the move yet. I entered the room and all she could do was helplessly look to me for guidance until I convinced her to follow me to where she could once again make herself huge to the point there was room for only her on the bed.

Well, Ariel has that same look on his face when he tries to find his clothes. They’re no longer in the small closet. I shouldn’t pick on him though, he’ll get it eventually. I, on the other hand, after more than twelve years, still choose the wrong switch in a 2, 3 or 4 gang; the singles I’ve finally gotten the hang of.  And there’s the ever famous incident of wandering aimlessly into the living room, pondering my reason for being there, only to realize I meant to go into the bathroom. (I think that’s a different condition altogether, something Pavlov couldn’t help with). And then of course there’s the ribbing I get all the time about touching the wrong button on a remote control or the computer. As a matter of fact, while I was writing, I went to open Internet Explorer, hit the Start button and followed through without realizing what I was doing until the screen went dark. Duh!

I’m still working on transferring my music from iPod to iPod and as I’m working on it, I’m questioning whether there might not be an easier way but I’m having a good time doing it. It was bit of a convoluted process. First I had to realize that if I transferred my stored music files from my external drive to my iTunes library, all 6 thousand some songs would end up on my mSpot program on my Droid. So, with my PD Rescue program (which I recommend highly for anyone who’s got invaluable music files) I was able to input the contents of my old iPod into iTunes on my laptop (not associated with mSpot). I was able to pick and choose what got moved, so I eliminated four hundred and some Christmas songs from moving. Not that I don’t like Christmas music, but invariably, one of the umpteen versions of “The Little Drummer Boy”–one of my least favorite Christmas songs….EVER!!!–will play at an inopportune time. Plus, because the new iPod is an iPod Touch, I want to have album art for all my stuff and that’s taking some time to collect.

I don’t have a smooth closer so I’ll just show you this video I saw on Ellen last night.


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