you and i go hard at each other like we're going to war

Today was lovely; I took the day off to enjoy living in the city of sin, which is extra sinful this weekend since it seems like every event ever is happening all at once. In fact, there were so many people in town that I think it overwhelmed our cell tower; I was having trouble getting calls and texts, and then would get a whole string of messages at once. Boo. It's Fleet Week AND there are America's Cup events going on at the same time, all of which are located really close to my neighborhood, so the entire area was kind of a shitshow.

But, I had a great day despite the tourists; Heather (aka dear respected madam) and Salim came up for the day, and I picked them up in another area of the city since there was no way they would ever find parking here. I dropped Salim off as close to Pier 39 as I could get before the traffic got too bad, and then Heather and I came to my place, where we spent the afternoon eating, drinking, and eventually watching the Blue Angels from my roof deck. I made chicken skewers and roasted tomato caprese salad for lunch, Terry made guacamole, and we drank peach bellinis, followed by rose (that should be ros-AY, all fancy, but I don't want to try to find the accented e), followed by mojitos. And, as was the case last year, the view of the Blue Angels from our roof deck was awesome, and it seemed like everyone in the Marina was out on their roofs watching the action.

Salim eventually reunited with us after walking back from Pier 39, and we watched last week's episode of 'The Voice' (mostly so that Heather and I could proclaim our attraction to Blake Shelton) before we went to Heather and Salim's favorite thai place in the city for a delicious and much-needed supper. Then I dropped them off at their car, came home, and am now contemplating life and thinking about how much I like living in the most expensive city ever vs. how much I like doing a job that pays nothing. The choice, it burns. I shall sleep on it, as I always do, and hope the choice doesn't burn a hole through my stomach lining to join all the other ulcers I've given myself. On that cheerful note, goodnight!