On Saturday, I ventured solo to SF for Molly and Kjell’s annual Pork and Punch party. In anticipation of the spread, I did not eat any pork all day (untrue, actually – started the day with a ham and cheese omelette). The pièce de résistance was again the mail-order jamón ibérico (is there a word for mixing languages like metaphors?).
It was nice to catch up with friends outside of the office. I really only went to see Oliver. He really only wanted what was on my plate. Thanks for a great time!
