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post-pinot, pre-nuptial fog

There are many things about which to blog. (Swine flu, anyone?) But unfortunately, I have spent a good portion of the weekend in front of this computer, updating guest lists and researching the proper order for a wedding procession (answer: if it's a non-denominational ceremony like ours, no one really gives a crap) and writing thank-you notes and putting the ceremony together.

I can't think anymore. (Also, I have a wine headache -- tasting Aussie and Kiwi Pinots at South all afternoon, not drinking enough water. My favorite was the Pirie from Tasmania. Also there was an excellent Tassie cheese called Seal Bay. And there was Roaring 40s blue -- also from Tassie -- which I adore. But as you know, I have a serious soft spot for Tassie. If they had served Tassie pies today, I probably would've never come home. But I digress.)

Yes, my head hurts. So look at Meep instead. He's pretty cute.


I know. I've been bad. No blogging for far too long. Blame Twitter. And a big project at work. And something you might call a "wedding."

But I'm back. And there's a lot to catch up on. The bachelorette bash was this past weekend. It involved wigs, circus school and Nick's Crispy Tacos. Yes, that's right -- I got to cross one off the old list, courtesy of my hot bridesmaid bitches, who know me all too well: How to tame Bridezilla? Feed her beans and rice.

I got a crispy carnitas quesadilla and an order of elote -- corn on the cob with grated cheese and chili powder. The quesadilla was good -- an apt description would be drunk/hangover food at its finest. But the elote was a bit over-the-top. Mine had so much chili powder on it -- eating it felt like slathering on 50 coats of lip-plumper. My mouth was on fire! It got to the point where I could barely taste the corn. Yet I kept eating it because I felt like I had to finish what I started.

Surprisingly, I did not barf while hanging upside down from a flying trapeze a mere two hours later.


As I have mentioned in previous rants, the topic that everyone in the wine industry is talking about is Web 2.0: Should we start a blog? Should we send samples to bloggers? What the hell is a tweet?

This attention to new media has actually resulted in networking nights where wine and technology supposedly meet and hold hands. I went to one of these events last week. This was my first time, and I didn't know what to expect. I was sort of hoping it would be like Comic-Con, but with people dressed as wine bottles or big bunches of grapes or their favorite overly powerful wine critics.

But it wasn't that much different from a normal wine-tasting. Granted, there were some cool tech things (a favorite was this new wine search engine -- I played around with it and did a search for some brut sparkling Vouvray -- got quite a bit of info). And there was a "bloggers' lounge" that was roped off with red velvet stanchions. And there was a giant screen with real-time Twitter Taste Live updates. (Weird experience, by the way -- you're standing next to people, drinking the same wines, but instead of discussing them with one another, you're on your iPhone or your BlackBerry and you're typing away and your comments go up on the wall for all to read instead of hear.)

But there wasn't an overwhelming amount of new technology.

Which in a way, was sort of cool. This means that there are plenty of opportunities out there. (Note to self: Come up with genius idea soon, make a ridiculous amount of money, go to Loire Valley in person and drink sparkling Vouvray with the producer, buy vacation house there if so inclined.)

What's funny is the best parts of the evening were pretty old-fashioned and not 2.0 anything at all. I ran into an old friend I hadn't seen in far too long. And she introduced me to an awesome producer with a quirky sense of humor (rubber chicken butts, anyone?) and killer wines. They even had a few barrel samples.

The Internet is awesome, but there's nothing like that person-to-person connection.

Especially when alcohol is involved.

recovery meal

Did the Carneros Vineyard Run on Saturday. (This was prior to the mysterious illness that knocked me on my ass the past two days.)

I chose the 5K option, so the run was short.

But man, was it tough. The entire last part of the race was a gigantic hill leading up to a winery. (By the way, it is impossible for me to look at this label without thinking of, well, anatomy.) And that hill was steep. And my lungs were burning. And I actually thought that maybe I might throw up. But like a good little masochist, I powered through and made it to the top -- and was still able to sprint past some people with what little strength I had left.

And of course, I rewarded myself for my athletic endeavor. Naturally, there were doughnuts and a Bloody Mary post-race. So nice that Boon Fly was right by the course.

Note to self: Before the next race, do more hillwork. And more speedwork. And always make sure fried pastries are at the finish line.