Don't rain on my parade

Yesterday was the Giants' victory parade through downtown SF, and I think "exciting" would be the most understated way to say it. There was incredible noise, mess, and human bodies everywhere, and every time the crowd rallied while I was sitting at my desk, I kept thinking, "this motha's goin' down!" Not really. But kind of.

I've also never been a part of a ticker tape parade, so watching it from the 18th floor behind thick glass safely away from it all was pretty awesome.

Here's a close-up I stole from the SacBee:


After work, my department went out for cocktails and appetizers, and it was maybe the priciest drink place in the neighbourhood. Oh no big deal, this wine bottle's only $15,000.


I'd like to say my house was sparkling clean when I got back and Milo had a bow on his head and there was cider and a bath waiting for me, but alas my butler still only exists in my head, so I came home to Milo tearing up his favourite rug, the garbage can overflowing, and this on the stove:

...which seems to be evidence of two things:
1. Nolan needs to pay attention to his pasta (and eggs for that matter - I wish I had a dollar every time he exploded one).
2. My mother-in-law's wise choice of pots and pans to get us. At least this pasta-shell just peels right off!