i know it's cliche to say, but i really hate spam. it is so absurd. even if i'm somehow tricked into opening the email from "jeb" with the subject line "give her what she really wants", do you (or, rather, they who put out such things) think that i will actually buy generic/organic/expired Viagra, penis enlargement pills, or whatever else it is they're selling even though i've already received 18,000 other emails selling the exact same thing and i'm really okay with the size of my dick anyway? this is the mindless, shotgun approach to marketing (e.g. shoot a wide spray and hope it hits something) that i have serious doubts garners a single sale. then again, i wonder how stores that only sell refrigerator magnets make a profit. note to self: you did not go to business/marketing/whoring school. you know nothing.

anyways, it was fucking hot this weekend, eh? i got fried at the baseball game on Saturday. pink like i'd just barely survived some kind of fraternity spanking ritual. pink with the obligatory farmer's tan, watch tan, and sunglasses tan, of course. (i am not so good at "bronzing" in attractive fashion.) serves me right, though. considering i burnt myself to the point of swelling and blistering only a couple months ago, i should have been SPF'd into oblivion. instead, i opted to sit in the hot sun without a drop of sunscreen on. hello, skin cancer! melanoma-a-cha-cha! dude, i ain't smart. but i'm not burned that badly. just a touch of the pink and a super shiny nose. so i'll survive just fine.

the game was fun. i wrangled up much better tickets for my parents at the last minute. when i was looking for tickets a few weeks ago, there didn't seem to be anything good for a decent price, so i snatched up the first pair of okay seats at an okay price -- upper deck, behind home plate. but the morning before the game, i found a pair at face value in the same lower box section as where i was going to be sitting, only 30 rows back. so we all agreed that was a better idea and we'd just sell the others at the park. of course, that last part was less easy than i expected. one guy wanted to buy the pair for $15 while another guy told him that was too much. "you're getting ripped off. they're not even worth five dollars." i think they were working some kind of scam but either way i told them both that at that price i'd rather give them away to some kid.

and that's exactly what i did. we found a father and son sitting buy the box office asking people for extra seats. and when i told them that the tickets were free, the son's eyes got big like saucers, he put on a big old grin, and said, "THANK YOU!" he and his dad bounded off together and we got a warm feeling that was worth the $60 we'd spent on the tickets.

inside the park, i had a ticket closer to the field than i'd ever been. i was in row 3. yes, right, 3. i could see the whites of Barry Bonds' eyes. i could see the Brewers' third base coach turn and grimace in our direction when the guy sitting next to me made a complete ass of himself. ("it wasn't me, dude. it was this chew-spitting retard." point, point.) mom and dad visited a couple times during the game but since their seats were in the shade, they only stayed for a half-inning at a time. in the end, the Giants lost a close but exciting one. but that didn't bother my parents. they were all grins, happy to have been a part of "the humanity", as they called it.

Corinne was on call (read: at the hospital for well over 24 hours) for most of the weekend, and we spent our time hanging out at the house and doing little fix-it chores like re-hanging the office door and bolting down the dishwasher. the house is surprisingly good at holding guests. i use to feel overwhelmed and suffocated when my parents came to visit. but it was genuinely nice to have them here. more proof that i bought an oasis in the City.

we bailed on a plan to go visit the newly renovated Conservatory of Flowers in Golden Gate Park (oh, shucks) and instead opted to follow the crowds to IKEA. with the extra hands, and the extra large SUV to carry it all, i was finally able to pick up a large wardrobe set for my clothes so i didn't have to walk into my office to get underpants. (i gave Corinne the dresser and the bedroom closet when we moved in.) back at home and a couple hours of assembly later -- those crafty Swedes and their step-child-of-Lego furniture -- we all gasped at the huge, white, monolith sitting in my bedroom. it was enormous. somehow, when we were measuring out the space it would take up, we hadn't quite understood just how large it'd really be. fortunately, though, it was modular, and by taking out one section, it was reduced down to something attractive and useable. phew! plus, IKEA gladly took back the section we'd decided we didn't need, even though we'd already assembled and disassembled it. and, so, now i have a place to hang my shirts.

and that was pretty much it for the weekend. get sunburnt, watch Giants, spend time with the 'rents, buy and assembly huge furniture, wish every weekend was a three-(or four-)day weekend.