First, there was iTunes and iPod. And all was good in the world. Then, both iTunes and iPod began upgrading, shrinking, dressing up. iTrip and iTalk came along, and they made a good thing even better. We were happy. And then, iHome and all manner of iPod-playing speakers burst on the scene. Now we have iPhone. And I’m not sure what’s coming next.

I must admit, I feel almost self-conscious when I take my iPod out in public today. Mine is an old clunker, one of the early generations that looks like a squat white brick compared to the sleek new models. My battery is almost useless, but still I hold out hope that I won’t need to shell out another two hundred for an upgrade. I’ve replaced the headphones four times, always paying extra for the cool white iPod ones so that I can maintain my “have iPod, will travel” status. But the barrage of iStuff that is currently bombarding me is slowly wearing me down, overcoming my fiscal defenses.

You’re a cruel man, Steve Jobs. You tempt me with size and color. In the beginning, all was white and pure. Then there was Mini, followed by Nano, and now Shuffle. A rainbow of colors abounds in the iPod world. I’d even love to get my hands on the U2 iPod, even though I already own 90 percent of their songs.

For a long time, I played the role of the happy disciple. It was as if the iPod world was a televangelist, and every so often I had to send money to receive its blessings. These benedictions came in the form of accessories; I had to buy a better case than the flimsy one that came with the device. I snapped up the iTrip as soon as it came out, even though I still can’t find a single spot on my radio that will hold an iPod song for more than ten seconds before static kicks in. I raced out to buy iVoice so I could record the interviews I conducted when I wrote articles. It gave me spotty results. I sold my stereo and bought the Bose SoundDock, which lets me plug in my iPod and hear it throughout the house. And I was given the iHome as a gift, and it is now all I need in the bedroom (even the mattress is optional … just leave me and my iHome alone). When I walk into an Apple store, which seem to be popping up everywhere, I feel part of a growing network, and I stare longingly at those gadgets that I do not have … yet.

I sound like a heroine addict in desperate need of another hit, don’t I? Don’t worry, I don’t see myself standing on a sidewalk, looking gaunt and shifty, trying to turn tricks in exchange for a Nano. In fact, I’d almost say I’m going through a kind of withdrawal. When I see the new ads for iPhone, the next level of i-ness, my eyes don’t glaze over with longing. I realize this is an even more convenient way of carrying my music around with me, but my sturdy iPod has not yet become such a huge hindrance that I need to discard it. Also, Apple has just launched iTunes Plus, and I could care less. I’m not upgrading my library, damn it! I will not pay an extra 30 cents for a song I can just as easily get for 99 cents.

The thing is, if my devout love of all things “i” can be shaken, I wonder if the iPod universe is in for a nasty surprise. Maybe what started out as a miraculous invention is slowly turning into a swarming pestilence. When my mother, who is not known for her technological prowess, went out and bought an iPod Shuffle, I was convinced that we were witnessing the dawn of a new iWorld. But now I have friends who won’t go near an iPod. They seem to recognize its nefarious qualities better than I can.

On April 9, 2007, Apple sold its 100 millionth iPod. And they only started selling them less than six years ago. No other music player comes close to achieving what the iPod has done. I just hope they don’t get carried away.