The Big Apple

I am typing this blog post to you, loyal reader, from my brand new MacBook Pro. I'm feeling highly relevant and hallucinating that my bedroom in Downers Grove is actually a hip coffee shop in Chicago, that I'm surrounded by women (all using Macs), and mixing songs that will be released on my band's new record, which will get a 9.0+ on Pitchfork, the review being that much easier to read and re-blog on my sleek new MacBook Pro. There's a St. Vincent collaboration in the works.

Not sure if I can still be friends with all of you. Can you keep up with my new lifestyle? Though the music I'm importing onto my new MacBook Pro is the same old stuff from my desktop, something feels new and exciting about it. Suddenly, my Allister collection is cool again. That ska from high school sounds eerily like forward-thinking French electronica. I put my pictures on the harddrive; I don't remember wearing a scarf in them. When did Godard take over my Netflix queue? Hey, what's your favorite Godard?

In other words, friends, this brand spanking new MacBook Pro has changed my life. The sun set on Downers Grove tonight, but the sun didn't set on my dreams, my desires, and my drive to be the best Apple user that I can be.

The old last.fm is out. The new last.fm is in. The old profile was prohibitive. I couldn't possibly move an artist to the top.

I've turned over a new leaf. Will you join me?