November 20, 2007


Whoa. We just got home from wine tasting. It started at 5 pm. It is now 10:30 pm. Granted, we had dinner afterwards, but we tasted and tasted and tasted some more for around three hours. I highly recommend tasting events at wine bars. They are quite lovely, especially when the Italian guy from Jersey who’s pouring goes on break and you can go back to the tasting table to tell his relief person “oh, I haven’t tried that one yet!” Even though you have. Twice. And then a third person comes to cover the second person, and well, I mean. The wine was GOOD and I wanted more, so I tasted the same wine four times. Is that so wrong?

And as a person who is classically trained in wine, I kept copious notes on my tasting sheet. I just looked at it now, and noticed that I wrote things like “YUM!” “OMG!” and “***” I’m serious about this stuff. For reals.

Afterwards the work winos, Matte and I went to eat some pasta (and possibly some semifreddo made with hazelnut cappuccino something or other) to absorb the alcohol while we blew into someone’s portable blood alcohol level checker thing from Kragen Auto Parts. According to the highly accurate scientific device, everyone was below the limit (except for that one time, instead of displaying a number, it just said HI, and was not meant to be a friendly greeting) so we took our stuffed happy selves and parted ways in the parking lot, hiccuping all the way.

And now I must slumber. Damn, I love sleep so much. And what’s funny is when I’m doing it, I’m not sure I even know I’m enjoying it. I mean, I guess I am, but I’m asleep, so, who knows if I am aware that I am having a good time? But really. It’s like my most favorite thing to do these days. Probably because I don’t get to do it often enough. I love everything about it. My jammies, my Tempurpedic pillow that is old and needs to be replaced. I love my jersey sheets, and the comforter that I fling off of me when I start swimming in sweat. I love that my socks get all twisted up, or fall off at the foot of the bed, and I love when I wake up, look at the clock, and realize I get to sleep for like five more hours. Those hours go by way too quickly though. Every single time.

Enough talk. I’m off to catch some zzzz’s and to see visions of long finishes, notes of blackberry and tobacco, and $110 bottles of 2004 Cabernet Sauvingnon dancing through my head.

Or, maybe my head is just spinning.

roominate on this yourself