Death of the magazine

Dave got me an iPod for Christmas. A super cute little silver nano that I loved.

Then he borrowed it when he went to a conference and decided he loved it more than me and wouldn't give it back.

He started feeling pretty guilty and that guilt worked in my favor. He came home with an iPod touch.

It is the coolest gadget. ever.

The commercials wern't kidding, this thing can do anything.

I think I'd like to read a book... There's an app for that.
I wonder what the weather is like on the other side of the country? There's an app for that.
Would I like to track my menstrual cycle? Yes, they have an app for that too.

A few nights ago I was getting ready for bed and playing with my iPod. Standing in the bathroom brushing my teeth, and washing my face, while checking email and updating my status on Facebook. Sit down for one last pee before bed and wander over to the YouTube app. Full access to YouTube conveniently organized to bring me straight to the top 25 most viewed videos and an enormous list of videos they're featuring that day.

Thanks to my iPod and YouTube, what should have taken me approximately 20 seconds to accomplish lasted long enough to make my legs go numb and make a ring indent around my ass.

I will never have a need for a magazine in the bathroom again.