1318 items, 3.4 days, 5.88 GB

I've given a part of myself to another man. Is that bad?
One really doesn't realize how personal their iPod library is until someone else asks for it. Of course, Jorge is a cool cat, and asked Mom to ask me if I would do it, so I gave it up. (I really was more intrigued by how I could do it, since nothing involving sharing music on iPods is easy.) But beyond that, I got to waxing poetic as I ventured through my library. Seriously, in looking at it, I have an unhealthy obsession with U2 and Elvis Presley. I love me some musical show tunes; and there is no doubt that I grew up in the 80s. Clearly, my mom exposed me to the oldies, as there is a good selection of that era. And I, apparently, dig man-bands: Barenaked Ladies, Smash Mouth, The Black Crowes, INXS, Maroon 5, Matchbox 20, The Monkees and The Soup Dragons, to name a few. I don't neglect the ladies though, as my "GirlieMusic" playlist includes Britney (of course), No Doubt and Gwen Stefani, Alanis, Pink, Madonna, The Bangles and TLC. To look at it as a whole, this library includes every important milestone in my life, every guilty pleasure, every glaring obsession, and every emotional and psychological growth spurt.
I had thought of writing Jorge a letter to accompany his newly stuffed iPod, but found myself struggling to figure out what I would say. Would it begin with the statement, "You asked for it, and you got it." Would it be apologetic, explaining away the 67 U2 songs? Would it play the whole thing off, like it didn't matter that he now had access into my musical soul? In the end, the library will be passed on with nothing -- just the beauty of its eclecticness.