My blog has turned into a boring vacation slide show: San Diego, Pt. 5

So the bar experience was crazy. There were approximately two other Pats fans in attendance, and we all noted how much the Chargers fans were grasping at small accomplishments. The bar ERUPTED every time the Chargers completed a pass or the Pats didn't. It was nutty. A couple of snaps of the general atmosphere:

As you can see, we were lucky enough to sit behind Phillip Rivers, which is cool. (Actually, that was a VERY drunk Irish guy who, unsurprisingly and fitting the stereotype nicely, no one could understand). The Chargers kept it close, but the Pats, despite craptitude by Brady, ran away with it. Huzzah, Super Bowl. Beck and I snapped this celebratory photo-booth-esque series:

The last one is actually quite nice. Beck went to grab some food after the game; I ran back to the hotel room to take the dogs o-u-t. When I got there, Sparkle greeted me with her t-shirt in her mouth. Woah! She managed to take the shirt off somehow, lack of thumbs be damned. I was thoroughly impressed. After taking the dogs out for sweet relief, I met back up with beck on the beach for sushi and pizza. Que romantica! We had our lunch, then headed back to the room for more scrabble and the unfortunate loss by the Packers. Bwah.

After another sunset stroll with the pups, Beck and I walked to a local wineshop/bistro for a delicious dinner. The place had a cool concept - you pick out your own wine from their storehouse, and they serve it to you with dinner - you essentially get the wine at cost but get to have it served to you for a $5 uncorking fee. Yummy stuff. Our waiter was sent by John Connor from the future, though, so that was somewhat strange. Still, all in all another grand evening, and a solid birthday completed.

The next morning, Beck and I eschewed a morning jog on the beach (have you noticed a pattern here?) for a leisurely stroll with the dynamic dogs. The sky was threatening, but we had a nice time on the beach with the dogs anyhoo:


And now, with digital video clarity, visual proof that my dogs are scared of the ocean... and that they secretly want to soak Beck!

Notice Beck's dubious claim at the end: "I almost died." i feel I have been unfairly chastised in the past when using this exact phrase w/r/t falling off of Camelback Mountain. I humbly submit that if "almost got wet" equates with almost dying, then "almost tumbled off a cliff" should also qualify. Just saying.

We checked out around 10 and said goodbye to Ocean Beach. Beck had read about an excellent, Centre Street Cafe style diner called "The Mission" a little bit north of us, so we grabbed all of our canines and other possessions and headed up there. TBC.