Make Mine Mike

Nearly freaked out last night.

No, not because our wedding is in 5 days. No cold feet so far, and I think everything's running smoothly. Once I put that piece of furniture together, my to-do list was -- ta-da -- done.

To celebrate, we went out to Santino's, a popular tapas place down the street that's always packed, for good reason (excellent empanadas, frittatas and crepes) and now we have a new location to add to our repertoire, relieving us of our restaurant rut.

I came home and had some scotch from our new buffet, watched a few minutes of my favorite Saturday night programming: The Olympics and Be the Marriage, treated myself to some extra dessert and preceded to blog.

I was licking a nice chocolate ice cream cone, and enjoying it so much... the top scoop fell off the cone and landed right on my keyboard. That's when I freaked out.

Adelphia jumped in and started reminding me of when her hard drive crashed a few months ago. Her life was on the computer and she couldn't retrieve any of her data -- she felt like her existence had faded somewhat.

So she furiously cleaned off my keyboard of my confectioned cream computer contamination, using her magic keypad fluid and delicately dabbing between the letters Q, W and A with a Q-tip... Sweetly assuring that that horrible thing shouldn't happen to me.

Now, if my hard drive crashed, of course that would suck. But I'm careful to make sure I backed up most of my important stuff. I got CD-ROMs, printouts, stuff e-mailed to myself so it exists in cyberspace... I even gave specially authorized personnel copies of my data in case of the worst. I'd hate to lose my computer 'cause I spent a lot of money on it within the last year. And where would I blog?

Fortunately, my better half saved the day. So why was I still freaking out the rest of the evening?

Dude, that was the last friggin' ice cream cone in the freezer.