In every single room, we have international extension cords, which magically turn crazy Rwandan outlets into everything else. There are so many holes in these extension cords that I really don’t know what to do with them. I guess at one point, I heard something about voltage or surge or something, but these magical extension cords seem to work with everything even hairdryers…so I guess I assumed that this whole voltage thing didn’t really matter. I don’t understand what it means anyways. (Two years in a row, I consciously decided that I didn’t have to learn the electrical unit in physics because my other grades were high enough to make up for it.)
…onto the part where I cry:
I don’t really know why I asked for an iPod blaster for my birthday. 99% of the time I’m too embarrassed to show anybody else my music selection, and the 1% of the time that I’m not embarrassed, the other person usually has more country than I do. In fact, I recently came across the flash drive of all flash drives…it was loaded with music! To cover up my embarrassment of having a 12 year old’s maturity and iTunes library size, I quickly copied every single song on the hard-drive onto my computer. The next time I looked at my iTunes, I had more songs that had never been played than songs that had. In about 10 minutes, I more than doubled the size of my iTunes library.
…I’m really putting off this crying thing:
But for whatever reason, I did ask for an iTunes blaster. And then I was embarrassed when I brought it, still in its box, to my birthday party in Giseyni. Max showed up with a speaker that is larger than I am and with two computers of music selections. I hid my iPod blaster. Compared to the 2xme sized speakers, it was more embarrassing than my music collection.
…
And then it mostly just sat in the corner of my room, still in its box, for about 2 weeks, as I had the harsh realization that I had no reason to have an iPod blaster because I don’t really want to share my music with anybody and I’m perfectly happy listening to 5 songs on repeat for 2 weeks straight.
…
But tonight I couldn’t find my iPod charger. (Turns out Zack borrowed/stole it…so we can blame all of this on Zack.) I had an ingenious idea: I’d actually USE the iPod blaster and charge my iPod at the same time! So I plugged it into the magic outlet. And plugged in my iPod. And sat down to clean-up my desk while enjoying some smooth country music.
I had about 30 seconds to think about how wonderful this was, and to start thinking about how maybe I could start spending my nights doing GMAT study problems while listening to some soft music on my iPod blaster…when…pop. It just…stopped. It was such a soft pop that I didn’t really understand.
And the room started to smell funny.
And no matter what I did, it wouldn’t turn back on.
But I wouldn’t admit it to myself, until I complained to 4 other people. And finally one of them told me to check the back of it, and if it said a number less than 240V, then it just blew it out.
“AC120V~”
I guiltily looked at Amber, and thanked her for lugging the iPod blaster over here. And thank you Mommy and Poppy. I’ve never felt like less of a true ex-pat that understands all these things. This is hopefully my last/only story about not understanding voltage. But still…I’m not so happy I learned about it. I might have preferred to have learned it in school. Okay…off to cry at my stupidity now.
…onto the part where I cry:
I don’t really know why I asked for an iPod blaster for my birthday. 99% of the time I’m too embarrassed to show anybody else my music selection, and the 1% of the time that I’m not embarrassed, the other person usually has more country than I do. In fact, I recently came across the flash drive of all flash drives…it was loaded with music! To cover up my embarrassment of having a 12 year old’s maturity and iTunes library size, I quickly copied every single song on the hard-drive onto my computer. The next time I looked at my iTunes, I had more songs that had never been played than songs that had. In about 10 minutes, I more than doubled the size of my iTunes library.
…I’m really putting off this crying thing:
But for whatever reason, I did ask for an iTunes blaster. And then I was embarrassed when I brought it, still in its box, to my birthday party in Giseyni. Max showed up with a speaker that is larger than I am and with two computers of music selections. I hid my iPod blaster. Compared to the 2xme sized speakers, it was more embarrassing than my music collection.
…
And then it mostly just sat in the corner of my room, still in its box, for about 2 weeks, as I had the harsh realization that I had no reason to have an iPod blaster because I don’t really want to share my music with anybody and I’m perfectly happy listening to 5 songs on repeat for 2 weeks straight.
…
But tonight I couldn’t find my iPod charger. (Turns out Zack borrowed/stole it…so we can blame all of this on Zack.) I had an ingenious idea: I’d actually USE the iPod blaster and charge my iPod at the same time! So I plugged it into the magic outlet. And plugged in my iPod. And sat down to clean-up my desk while enjoying some smooth country music.
I had about 30 seconds to think about how wonderful this was, and to start thinking about how maybe I could start spending my nights doing GMAT study problems while listening to some soft music on my iPod blaster…when…pop. It just…stopped. It was such a soft pop that I didn’t really understand.
And the room started to smell funny.
And no matter what I did, it wouldn’t turn back on.
But I wouldn’t admit it to myself, until I complained to 4 other people. And finally one of them told me to check the back of it, and if it said a number less than 240V, then it just blew it out.
“AC120V~”
I guiltily looked at Amber, and thanked her for lugging the iPod blaster over here. And thank you Mommy and Poppy. I’ve never felt like less of a true ex-pat that understands all these things. This is hopefully my last/only story about not understanding voltage. But still…I’m not so happy I learned about it. I might have preferred to have learned it in school. Okay…off to cry at my stupidity now.
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