30G iPod, you're mine. ALL MINE.

I've been a bit unnerved since the recent, tragic, (not entirely accidental) loss of my sweet 2-year-old iPod. It treated me well for two years. It was a gift (read: FREE), I felt the need for an upgrade (read: my warranty was about to expire), so I took action.

Best Buy (bless their hearts) tried in earnest to send me the necessary shipping label to return my deceased iPod for processing. Once I received the label, I'd ship it out, they'd process the order and mail out a voucher in the amount I (or, not so much me) paid for it on Aug. 8, 2004. A voucher with which I can purchase a shiny, new iPod. (And, darn, they don't make 15G iPod's anymore, I'm going to have to suck it up and double its gigobytes AND upgrade its performance. Shoot).

Turns out, three attempts to both email AND snail mail my shipping label we're unsuccessful, and Best Buy (I love you, Best Buy) was, "So very sorry for the inconvenience," that they went ahead and processed my claim (iPod unseen), and put a voucher in the mail in the amount of $220.

"So hold onto your (dead, angry) iPod until you receive the voucher," nice Best Buy woman said to me. "And once you get the voucher, you can go right ahead and throw the iPod away, or donate it."

Let me get this straight: I had to do absolutely nothing but make a phonecall and I'm getting a new (sweet, lovely) 30G iPod out of the deal? I love you Best Buy. But not as much as I'm going to love my new, black, slender 30G, color-screen, video-playing iPod.

My life, I'm pretty sure of it, is complete.