catheroominations

Just after I posted this, I had a sudden change of attitude. I guess it took spewing it out on my blog to realize that the day was going to be only as bad as I allowed it to be. Sure, getting a speeding ticket sucked, but whatever. What’s done is done. And yeah, I ached after the long run, but I had a choice. I could sit on the couch, watching bad TV and whimpering while missing a fun wine tasting birthday party, or I could suck it up.

Aches and pains be damned! I sucked it up.

I quickly showered, got ready, and looked up the wineries that were included in the bus tour everyone was on. I had enough time to meet the party at the second winery, so I headed back down Hwy 17, passing the scene of my earlier crime. This time, I passed it going just over 50 miles per hour with the cruise control on.

As soon as I saw everyone on the gazebo, I knew I’d made the right decision by getting off my sorry ass and joining the party. Everyone was happy to see me, as Matte had told them about my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. No one expected me to show up, but I surprised everyone by doing so. And I love surprising people. Someone said “you should sit down!” so I did, while sipping a lovely Burrell School pinot noir. And then someone handed me some lusciously rich dark chocolate. Awesome.

The next stop on the bus tour was Savannah Chanelle, but Matte and I took my car so I wouldn’t have to pick it up at Burrell School later. At Savannah Chanelle we got to hear the interesting history of the winery, and saw a split-root tree on the property that sits RIGHT ON the San Andreas fault. Friggin’ cool. I tried jumping up and down to trigger it, but I don’t think I was able to make it rumble.

Wine-tasted out, we headed for Rachel (the birthday girl) and Shawn’s house for some eats. The menu consisted of gazpacho (I blew on the first spoonful in case it was too hot, out of soup-eating habit. But duh.) and paella (with sausage, chicken, shrimp, and bigger shrimp). Sweet Jeebus, that was some mighty fine food! We drank more wine…a fabulous 1991 something-I-can’t-recall-nor-pronounce-but-was-Spanish. Dinner was followed by a creme brulee-like dessert (also Spanish, the name of which is also escaping me). I was almost falling asleep into my dessert (at 7:30 pm), so Matte and I left for home so I could get a foot massage.

My day ended so much better than it started. Because I was not going to let the crappy day stay crappy. I would not let it beat me. And today I am sore, but it’s the good kind of sore, that reminds me that I went beyond my physical comfort zone and ran double-digits yesterday.

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.

The cupcakes were delicious, the girltalk was fabulous, the wine was flowing, and fun was had by all (look, I just used passive voice, which I HATE). I highly recommend cupcake parties.

One of the myriad of photos I took with Stacy on Sunday. Half of what I took turned out pretty good, and half of those were taken while tipsy, and therefore are a bit out of focus. Why can’t my camera correct for inebriation?

See that new header up there? It was born of that Photowalk Photostumble as well.

I might have had too much wine at dinner. I might have had more wine than dinner. But I can still type, and spell words correctly. I think.

This may not have been the best idea, the drinking, because tomorrow Matte and I are going to Vintage Santa Clara. We have tickets that entitle us to drink more wine. And eat much food from local restaurants. This will all happen in the middle of the day, on a Sunday. In the heat.

I will be in excellent shape for work on Monday. Working from home might be a good idea. And I use the term working lightly.

Happy Birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear me-e, happy birthday to me.

Thank you to everyone who sent me a virtual gift for my birthday. I got some lovely, wonderful things, which I will show you right now.

First, my most favoritist gift I received was from my sister. Just a day before I received it I mentioned to Matte that I hoped someone would (virtually) give it to me. And Suzie did. She gave me this:

Jasper. My little man. If I could have anything make-believe, it would be to have him back. (sniff)

You guys have some amazing imaginations, and apparently wallets full of fake money to shower me with some lovely gifties. Those are the best kind of friends to have! It’s a good thing I am not Buddhist, because otherwise I would have had to turn down all of these possessions. Oh, and while we’re pretending, let’s pretend that I am a size 4 and have big(ger) boobs and perfect hair. OK. Now the party can start.
keep reading Catheroo’s Not-Quite-Yet-40th Birthday

I had lunch with my friend Beth today. This is a rare occasion because 1) most of the year she works as a school counselor and doesn’t get a chance to leave campus for lunch and 2) I don’t often get out for a lunch break either, in my very busy, vitally important position at work*.

Beth’s birthday is one week earlier than mine so we exchanged presents over lunch. I got her this deliciously fragrant pomegranate. We discovered these on an extreme shopping spree at Takashimaya in New York City a couple of years ago. Just recently Beth had lamented that her NYC pomegranate was losing it’s oomph, and a light went on in my head. DING! I will find that pomegranate and get her a new one! And I did. And it arrived and sat in my closet for weeks and weeks, adding a lovely aroma to my walk-in. I was sad to see it go, but she was so thrilled to get it, and I was just as happy to give it to her.

About a week ago, the girls (also known as fiends…I must tell that story one day) got together for brunch on what would have been our friend Julie’s 42nd birthday. Our “ritual” is to visit the cemetery and spread out a blanket and share a bottle of her favorite wine, V. Sattui Johannisberg Riesling. We drink it with tiny little plastic naked men hanging off the edge of our cups. And the cups this year had Ariel the Little Mermaid on them, swimming under the sea. In honor of Julie’s favorite Disney character, we also wore Ariel tiaras, as we sat sipping, and laughing…in the cemetery. Irreverent or not, it’s what we do, and it makes us happy. We think Julie likes it too.

But I digress.

While we were sitting on the blanket, probably talking about food or cake or birthdays or something, I mentioned seeing a new cake pan that looked awesome.

Seriously, how cool is this cake?

It is made by using this pan, reminiscent of Madonna’s bra:

Beth gave me that very cake pan today, for my birthday, because Beth hears things. And she remembers things. And then she buys those things. Now I can’t decide what to do with it first…make a ginormous blueberry muffin? A big chocolate cupcake? What to do? What to do?

*I am as vitally important as condoms are in a monastery.