I Can't be the Only One, Can I?...
Originally posted on 12/11/2012
...Who gets a little self-conscious when she's drinking. Alone. Not drowning my sorrows, you understand, but not celebrating some great achievement, either.
That reminds me of something Yoko Ono once said: She claimed it had been possible (easy, really) for she and John to stop taking heroin no promleemo, because when they took it, it was in celebration, not to dull pain. OK. Sure. But I've listened plenty to Cold Turkey, and from the sounds of it, it wasn't all easy peasy for John to break the habit. Good God, I digress. From bubbles to horse. How does that even happen?
OK, this is why I'm drinking. Alone.
I had a phone interview to do tonight with Gail Vas-Oxlade, for her radio show all about not breaking the bank with Christmas dinner and gifts. I wanted to tell everyone about this wine, but I guess I rambled on and we ran out of time and before I knew it, she was all, "Thank you for joining me tonight..bye!" Click. And that was the end of that. So, I want to tell you about this wine now and why I like it.
Oh, and to all the wine snobs out there, don't even bother. I know this stuff isn't what your ilk would consider good. But I don't care. Sometimes a gal just wants to get a wee buzz on with a bottle of ice cold, sweet, bubbles, so back off!
Anyway, the folks at Barefoot know exactly what this is. They even slap a sticker right on the neck...."Deliciously Sweet". Sweet can be something of a dirty word in the esoteric world of wine. Depending.
So yes, it's sweet and delicious and under $14 and yes, Virginia, there is a time and a place for everything!
A few Christmases ago, when I was dating this dude - let's just call him "David" - it was Christmas day, and we lounged on the sofa in our jammies all day long, ever so lightly tranquilized by a bottle of Mateus that someone had brought to dinner the night before. I was drunk by noon. It was perfect. At least I thought so. I wonder if "David" was already planning his exit...... OK, that's enough of that!
What I'm saying is...if you like sweet bubbles, f*%# 'em! Drink what you like. Hell, if you like bloody Baby freakin' Duck, go ahead, knock yourself out...in your jammies, on Christmas day, with perfect, fat, snowflakes drifting down in that muffled perfection of a windless, deep, snowfall on a day when no one wants to put on pants or leave the house.
Right. And if you enjoy sweet bubbles, give this one a try, because it's yummy and I feel really guilty that I didn't get to give it a shout out, and now I'm here, all alone with an open bottle and it's after 1am on Monday night and I have to get up with the chickens tomorrow morning and I don't think this bottle will fit in my fridge and even if it does, it'll be flat by tomorrow night, when I'm able to finish it. So, bottoms up!