Things happen in threes. Larry’s computer died last night. My iPod died today. I left work sulking, rubbing my eyes, too tired to do computer anymore. I would change into black and attend the restaurant opening of Partage. But then the text messages started to find me via mobile phone. "When are you posting the pics from this weekend?" I uploaded them from my new Mac… which then took a turn for the grave. What the hell? Two Mac products bit it in less than 24 hours.
I phoned Chris ready to cry. "Baby, it’s time for you to go analog. I know you’re Miss Digital Thang and all, and you do tech stuff for a living, but you’re so a pen a paper girl."
I am so not. "I need to post photos." Thank goodness for the backup Dell. Still, I felt a tinge of dispair and ate a package of Tostido’s Nacho Cheese off my fingers. Then I drank white Italian wine. Then I made an old fashioned grill cheese sandwich with mozzeralla cheese and truffle oil. I crawled into my sweats, into my down, into the collar of my dog, and I felt better. It was so English is Italian.
English is Italian. No it’s not. Yes it is. It was so Who’s On First. English is Italian was our destination for the birthday dinner of my angelic Amy (and the last thing I did before the Mac bit it) See for yourself >>