I discovered Carmenere at Stand 91
I watched Lost in Translation tonight. I liked it. I did. I love Bill Murray, always have. But you know those movies that get under your skin and kindof niggle at you a bit? Perhaps it is the change of pace from staple Hollywood, a sustained level of intensity that isn't intense for the graphic violence or sex or special effects or stunts, but just intense because you feel so strongly for the characters, for the story. So now I'm all kindof "whoa". And it's Saturday night, i've been on my own in my jammies and pink fluffy ugs with a giant bowl of slightly scorched popcorn and it's a bit weird to be feeling all "whoa".
The gym is making me all rashy and itchy - too much sweating, I'm sure it can't be good for you. Not that I really sweated this afternoon, more like fumed as I think my body is probably more parts alcohol than water at the moment.
I can't get over how attracted to myself I am right now....
Was out with work last night, just a bit of money in the kitty or something, went to Zibbibos and ate way too much and drank red out of a giant fish bowl glass and after a few of those (it's surprising) but I actually had a pretty good time. I do like some of the people I work with; I even like my boss when she isn't having a meltdown. I just get so lippy when I'm drinking which isn't great with people you spend the better part of your time with, but never get past a certain level of familiarity or intimacy. And another thing, all of them, even the younger ones, are coupled out. In these situations, inevitably, the conversation takes a turn for the worst and the limelight is on you and your love life (or lack of) and a large group of people are surmising to each other that they don't think you are as sweet and innocent as you appear to be. And then a colleague may ask if you are going out to find some action that evening, and that is unfortunate because you may instinctively fire a rather terse interjection across the dinner table asking the colleague if he is enjoying his meal, and on the affirmative, telling him perhaps he should shut up and continue eating it. At which stage knowing glances are exchanged, "we knew it" those glances say. Creme brulee was pretty yum though.
To shoo away any remnant of the night's revelry it made sense to go to the Food and Wine festival at the Stadium today. It was the most stunning day, fariytale blue sky and crunchy autumn air. Kind of a shame to spend a large part of it inside bumping amidst crowds of overweight and pretentious people and eating and drinking a ridiculous conglomeration of tidbits (including Monteiths new drop - Winter Ale, very nice) until your surroundings become rather stark and hilarious and the live music sends you scuttling in fits of laughter at how utterly earnest it is, and you may try for sophistication while you pinball around the stalls partaking in free samples but it's damn difficult when one of you is trying to suppress the hiccups and the other is being asked for identification to prove you are over 18. God I wish I'd told him his wine wasn't worth the effort to get my drivers licence out. The outing was a success however, and the piece de resistance was when I stumbled across a stall with a jolly old snow-haired man peddling wine from none other than Chile! Which got me excited at first glance, but when I read the label and it said Misiones de Rengo! Well I nearly peed and spluttered out,
"Hey, my little sister lives there"!
To which he very jovially said, "Well you have to try some now".
And I was there for some time as he took me through the collection including the dessert wine, until I started feeling a bit heady and bought my favourite. Then the old dear leaned across the stand and said, "May I?" and before I could answer he had stuck a sticker on my breast that said "I discovered Carmenere at Stand 91". Yes I did.
The gym is making me all rashy and itchy - too much sweating, I'm sure it can't be good for you. Not that I really sweated this afternoon, more like fumed as I think my body is probably more parts alcohol than water at the moment.
I can't get over how attracted to myself I am right now....
Was out with work last night, just a bit of money in the kitty or something, went to Zibbibos and ate way too much and drank red out of a giant fish bowl glass and after a few of those (it's surprising) but I actually had a pretty good time. I do like some of the people I work with; I even like my boss when she isn't having a meltdown. I just get so lippy when I'm drinking which isn't great with people you spend the better part of your time with, but never get past a certain level of familiarity or intimacy. And another thing, all of them, even the younger ones, are coupled out. In these situations, inevitably, the conversation takes a turn for the worst and the limelight is on you and your love life (or lack of) and a large group of people are surmising to each other that they don't think you are as sweet and innocent as you appear to be. And then a colleague may ask if you are going out to find some action that evening, and that is unfortunate because you may instinctively fire a rather terse interjection across the dinner table asking the colleague if he is enjoying his meal, and on the affirmative, telling him perhaps he should shut up and continue eating it. At which stage knowing glances are exchanged, "we knew it" those glances say. Creme brulee was pretty yum though.
To shoo away any remnant of the night's revelry it made sense to go to the Food and Wine festival at the Stadium today. It was the most stunning day, fariytale blue sky and crunchy autumn air. Kind of a shame to spend a large part of it inside bumping amidst crowds of overweight and pretentious people and eating and drinking a ridiculous conglomeration of tidbits (including Monteiths new drop - Winter Ale, very nice) until your surroundings become rather stark and hilarious and the live music sends you scuttling in fits of laughter at how utterly earnest it is, and you may try for sophistication while you pinball around the stalls partaking in free samples but it's damn difficult when one of you is trying to suppress the hiccups and the other is being asked for identification to prove you are over 18. God I wish I'd told him his wine wasn't worth the effort to get my drivers licence out. The outing was a success however, and the piece de resistance was when I stumbled across a stall with a jolly old snow-haired man peddling wine from none other than Chile! Which got me excited at first glance, but when I read the label and it said Misiones de Rengo! Well I nearly peed and spluttered out,
"Hey, my little sister lives there"!
To which he very jovially said, "Well you have to try some now".
And I was there for some time as he took me through the collection including the dessert wine, until I started feeling a bit heady and bought my favourite. Then the old dear leaned across the stand and said, "May I?" and before I could answer he had stuck a sticker on my breast that said "I discovered Carmenere at Stand 91". Yes I did.
posted by Pix @ 8:27 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home