Did you know that New Jersey has wineries? That’s kind of a joke. Yeah, I knew; I just never went. And I didn’t go because I am a snob. I felt like I was better… More
The definition of “gravitas”:
: high seriousness (as in a person’s bearing or in the treatment of a subject)had the gravitas of a deep thinker
I was asked if I had the gravitas to take a conversation further. I was then told to look up this definition by someone I respect, compete with, detest at times, love deeply, want to change, want to become, makes me sick to my stomach, makes my body ache at the thought of him – and I’m perplexed. All of those above emotions don’t pair with this person I know; don’t pair with this person, that I believe, holds the most gravitas, and is also asking me to bare my soul. So, should the question be – what makes me think deeply, what arouses me, and what makes me want to hold on and ask for more.
I don’t blog to blog, I don’t blog to self promote, I don’t blog to throw shade. I blog mainly because I’ve felt something, and that something is usually brought on by the wine experience. I’ve been absent, and I think it is because I was overwhelmed by the wine experience, as well as the people experience; the emotions were all caught in a net that I wasn’t in control of. The wine stuff caught me by surprise; I’m in the place where things need to happen, they needed to have happened yesterday, I need to report on it, spreadsheets, recaps, and oh yeah – make sure you can pronounce areas of viticulture in Portugal correct. (as well as knowing what the hell I’m talking about) The “Life of Susan” stuff went off a cliff – weird friend shifting, a romantic pop up, as well as a feeling of, well, silence. Silence of the chatter that happens when things “pop up”, a gravitas of knowing and believing that I can emotionally figure things out. All in all, I am over taking things tooooooo seriously.
Secret; I’m a pretty serious person. I have about 4 journals on rotation, planner is open on my desk right now, lists for the day were made yesterday, actually – 2 months ago, and I have at least three scenarios in the case of heartache for the guy that is dangling a carrot on the end of a string. Micro-management has nothing on me. But, I’m seeing that this gravitas needs the silent treatment, and needs it before my head combusts. Plan; do something that I don’t like to do.
Trust a man; check. That isn’t working out so well, so let’s move on. Explore a situation that you don’t think you will enjoy; enter Dim Sum. Let my friend Merriam-Webster define once again:
: traditional Chinese food consisting of a variety of items (such as steamed or fried dumplings, pieces of cooked chicken, and rice balls) served in small portions
Listen, this is an event, this is a sit down gravitas moment, this is a whole Asian experience that I just didn’t want to do. Chinese, Japanese, Thai – I’m not a fan. I have my “go to” dishes, but texturally – nope. That was my American brain, that was my “turn it off” brain, and my serious attitude to what I think my life participation in Dim Sum should be. I threw judgement aside, met friends in NYC, sat down in a bat mitzvah kind of setting, and let the food journey begin. I was jostled by the stinky food carts, didn’t understand most of it, loved the conversation around the table of traveling, falling in love, falling into holes of life, and all the free flowing laughter. This place called for that, the food experience called for that. Afterwards, I took a walk through China town – no really, WALKED into it, not through it. Spoke to people on the street, bought a sweet bun at a bakery, and felt a life deviation.
I’m here to tell you I’m becoming more daring. That is 2020 Susan. I may say things now you may not like, I’ll probably go to far, and I may loose more “friends” in the process. (that may be the blessing in disguise; the authentic ones are rising as we speak) The positive is that I may get better at writing, I may fill a void in my soul, I may sharpen my facilitation and education sword, and I may know I am doing it all for the greater good; me.
So, sorry, not a wine post. Kind of a food post, but not really. The good thing is that I am back, I AM posting, I am thinking, and I am telling. I NEED to talk to you about wine though; we need to explore on another level, and we need to do this together. You help me figure this stuff out. My tastes have changed, my focus has changed, and my desire for a higher level of a tasting experience is looming. Please tell me you are ready for this….
If not, just enjoy my attempt at food styling and photography…..
I shot a gun once. In a controlled environment, but I did it. I first said no, became shy of the idea and wanting to understand why these feelings were coming up in my chest. The sight of it sitting on a table frightened me, so why would I want to use it. I received instruction, I cried a bit, body shaking, focused and let go. That is the best way to describe it. It was a feeling of desperation, release, and complete power that I’m here to admit – I enjoyed and could do again.
I try to use my presence as my power, and in my 40’s, have tried to use my words just as much. But even holding a weapon was alluring; the thought that I could do nothing with my mind or persona yet be influential. Yes, it thrilled me, and then emptied my soul. My consciousness won and made me realize that I can’t control that kind of control, nor have the desire to give any effort. Target practice is not worth the high.
How can I now go on to write flowery images of wine? Even before this blog, I was dealing with news of a death, sadness, a little broken heart, a little weight gain – I’m not going on. I’m feeling selfish that I think of how MY world is effecting me, but that is what lays in my lap. I have a new job, a failed relationship, a market work day with a winery representative haunting my crappy planning, and a pressing waist line. That is what I see when I look in the mirror, and it’s not pretty. Add to that an upset stomach every time my innocent nephew walks out the door to go to school, or the fact that grocery shopping could be my last breath on this earth.
I know we aren’t giving up, but we can be sad for a moment as well. But wake up, put on your party dress, and get out the door – there are things to do, and there are ways to be happy.
I’m not giving you a review, I’m not selling a damn thing to you in this blog. I’m here to show you my happy moments. To share with you how I am FORCING myself into a joyous life. Do I do this with wine; sure. Not to get drunk and forget, but to learn and savor someone else’s passion, history, and love for what they do.
And I want to blog, but I’m not in the mood. There is a lot to say, but I got to think about it all first. I’ll let you look at pretty pictures. Pictures are my golden ring, my tooth under the pillow, my first kiss. They wrap me back up in what I think may have happened. Maybe they can shed a little honey and butterflies on your day as well.
While writing this, I received a text trying to pull me back into drama; is it drama if you have created it? It’s going to constantly happen, but just be ready. The text made me dive in at first; a little racing in my chest, my thoughts swimming on how to be witty, reflections appeared on my pillow. This is what I want, this is what I want, this is what I want. But then, vacant. So, who, in the end, is the looser? More on that soon.
Sometimes, you just need to keep going. Keep your head down, be introverted as all hell, do what is necessary, and hope that your magic carpet will appear very soon.
My carpet has just arrived; but stuff happened, and stuff was real.
What about that – the in between? What happens to you when you are just the blah of the pack – because you know you aren’t lighting the world on fire when you are just existing. For me, hanging out influx makes my mind itch. I don’t just make bad decisions professionally, but I seem to sway into a reckless seesaw of living life. Wanting and knowing that the wanting is becoming brash can screw a girl up. How do you keep your head on straight? How do you become happy with the now when you know the now is not an outline of your identity?
You just go –
That is completely not original, and I know it. The word “go” is something I consistently see flashing in my brain. Not every day mind you, and there are lulls and dips into the abyss of depression. I’m not perfect. The consistency of the “drive” for me is knowing I have done good things, I have worked harder than most, and that something will eventually find me – personally and professionally.
Now it’s time to be silent – if that is possible – be serious – with a wit about me – and release the personalities of new wines I am collecting to share with all of you. Every wine has a story to tell, we are aware of that, but what more can we dive into? How do we return to what we know in a varietal, and to what degree do we stand vulnerable to a new wandering? My salesgirl tricks are running thin, and the impression is that I should know what I’m talking about; the truth is I don’t always do. Can any of us admit we have all the answers? Especially in this world of wine where everyone is a critic, a novice, a expert, a magician, a sommelier, and in the end, an asshole.
So I’m going to start with what I know, and surprised at how so many wines seem to find you in your profession time and time again. I can remember drinking Casa Lapostolle Sauvignon Blanc when I knew very little about wine, and was confused on how a white wine could be tingling with acidity, full with fruit but not overwhelming, textural with a weight that was there but not there, and just lovely to drink and drink and then drink again. It is a staple in so many refrigerators – what I mean by that is that it is a wine that you KNOW everyone will enjoy, that you will enjoy, that the dog will enjoy….
This is not your Napa Sauvignon Blanc – no sir – let’s talk Chile shall we? This wine is specifically from an area called Cachapoal (within the Rapel Valley), nestled beneath the foothills of the Andes Mountains. This area is really know for reds, but the closer you get to the Andes, the cooler the viticultural area will become. Expect elegant minerality with the natural abundance of fruit; this is where that textural thing comes around. If you are looking for the New Zealand grassy conversation….eh? Yes, the varietal will express some of that passion fruit and zest, but not in the agressive nature of other growing areas. This is delicate, grace, and slight restraint – a pinch of the grape Semillion will generate more of that citrus sexy fruit we all love in a wine like this. And yes, I will be drinking this wine this weekend in my backyard….
Wish me luck, come along on this journey, express your opinions on my campaigns, walk the path to new and exciting flavors, help me learn and speak Spanish, laugh at my bumbles out there in the market, but most of all, let’s just be entertained at what can happen in our lives. Stay open, stay resilient, and stay kind – doesn’t that sound like a good way to be?
Can you direct me into what I should desire right now – because I’m confused.
This goes for life and wine. In my mind, I have organized a check list of qualities, attributes, “what am I getting back” (let’s be honest, if I’m not winning then why be in it), back door escapes from bad decisions – all to lead me to benefiting from desires, wanting, and working towards the greater good in my life. I’ve mastered the brick wall against vulnerability – to my demise.
Let’s look at a definition, shall we?
- the quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally.
I’ve dated and married men out of my race and/or religion, I’ve traveled the world with little money or focus, I’ve had great jobs and lost great jobs, I’ve gained weight, lost weight, gained weight, probably had a small drinking problem – all to avoid being vulnerable – or to put myself in a complete vulnerable state. In the end, I still have no idea what to desire, or if all that crap was worth it. Is it the “being attacked” part that I am trying to dodge and weave from? Then there is that “harm” word – who the hell wants that in their life?
For instance, I believed, and was told, I should like this:
Classic Napa Valley Cab, right? Is the American palate so boring that we simply accept voluptuous and gobby depictions of California fruit? Do we, as consumers, search out the wines that won’t offend, but generously lay on our palates like wool blankets? I don’t mean to be crass, and kudos to Freemark Abbey for their continued pursuit at being a stand out in iconic wines from Napa: I’m here to tell you – eh (and shrug of shoulders, pursed lips, furrowed brow). California was known for highlighting the art of the grape, the “specialness” of a wine of place, a celebration of winemaker’s outlook and artistry – are we still there, are we vulnerable to 2019, has the consumer attack on our silent mind of creativity dulled our passion?
Whew – sorry about that rant. I’m just confused on where to go with my own palate, and how colleagues judge my wine direction at the moment. I watch as lesser developed palates taste my wine (by the way, not putting down the wine taster/buyer/judger/want to be – we are all babes in the woods at one point. Keep at it) and watch as their faces get perplexed. I know the wonder of “am I supposed to like this” looms in the room. Not all grapes you drink SHOULD be a noble grape (Cab, Merlot, Chardonnay – the usual suspects), and you are not cheating on your Sauvignon Blanc if you try another white varietal out. For example:
- Anares, Terra Nova, Verdejo – a white grape varietal grown in the Rueda region of Spain. Looking for an alternative to Pinot Grigio? You just found it. Flavors of peach, melon, balanced acidity, enjoyable to the last sip. Simple yet not simple, enjoyed with just about anything at a meal, Sauvignon Blanc -ish but better.
- Cartuxa, Eugenio de Almeida “EA”, Roupeiro/Antao Vaz/Arinto Blend – ok, what? Portuguese wines are not just oxidized port my friends. This blend has beautiful tropical flavors, stunning acidity, Myer lemon and tangerine peel notes, while retaining a medium body and pleasant structure. Sure it’s weird and maybe off the beaten track – don’t you just love a palate surprise?
Listen, I’m sorry if I offended anyone with my Freeemark Abbey hate; I’m being a hard ass on Cali wines, and picked that one from the bunch I’ve tasted lately. Maybe it’s a thought that, as wine drinkers, we are using Cali as our tasting ruler. And I understand that, and can appreciate that a consumer measurement can exist. I don’t want vulnerability – in wine OR in life. Can I avoid it though? Can I grow without it? Am I sacrificing a deeper scoop of my soul by sidestepping it? And what have I left in the past because of the chance of harm from this feeling? Can I suggest a direction in wine for you – sure I can. Can I suggest how to evade facing your true desires – hell yeah I can. Both are confusing, delightful for the moment, fading, and don’t do YOU justice. Is it where I am living now? What do you think?
“Too bad you never grew a pair”
“I’m tired of hearing how you are the victim”
“Go ahead and blog about this” (rolling eyes)
Yes, we all get judged. We also do the judging. Am I a victim or am I the one laying out the bullshit? That line is blurred, and that line has been crossed many times. I think I’m here now to face commentary and criticism – and maybe it’s time we all did. The above texts are real, painful to type out in this blog, and even more painful to review at their source. They come from confusion, from abandoned conversations, and omitted confessions. All done with purpose, possibly to injure the soul, and to leave a burned mark in my brain. Success for you dear reader/lover/hater/friend/maybe-friend/cynic – whatever costume you wear right now. I wish I could erase your Susan Reflections, but, alas, here you are.
I’m surprised at the control words have. I thought, just for a second, that maybe my blog, and a little of my self worth, was a silly waste of time. Maybe my “voice” was that of a poser, imposter, want-to-be wine goddess. Maybe I use this as an excuse for many things in my life. Further investigation into this dilemma leads me to the verdict – YEAH I DO! I need help and I need help now. I’m facing speculation on what I can deliver every day – and judgement continues and continues. How the heck can anyone balance that? How can anyone survive that? Well, let me tell you, any way you can.
My attempt at balance is not taking myself so seriously. And yes, I am a girl that remembers the wine coolers of the 80’s. I’m not a mixologist, don’t really want to be bothered with that, but do love a cocktail. Thank you Sandara for this wine/mojito goodness. I’ll see you on the beach this summer….https://sandarauniverse.com/en/
Then there are times when I take myself very seriously. I love the study of grape varietals – what makes up their personality, what is their origin, what makes them sing. Grapes like Riesling – so misunderstood and loved in a weird misconceived manner. (read into that if you like) When you are from Germany, to dig deeper, located in the Nahe region of Germany, we can be friends. Aromatic, off dry, almost “Muscadel” in style, juicy, slightly restrained, and made by a freaky dude from Tesch Vineyards, now we are besties. The valleys of the Nahe’s tributaries help foster diverse microclimates, while the rocky foothills to the east help retain heat and moderate rainfall. This grape can not fail. Sure, you can pick up a lovely from the Mosel, but this style reaches out to a different place in me – a different expression that begs me to return.
Love your many faces, and don’t apologize for them. However, know that they are looming, and can pop out when you are backed up against a wall, or are feeling all the feels. Practice “active observation” (thank you shine text), and maybe shut your mouth before you get into a dicy situation. Or don’t – that’s where this gets interesting. That is where your risk will be, but that is where your release will also be. I’m still thinking about you – dear reader/lover/hater/friend/maybe-friend/cynic – and sure, sucks that we can’t figure out a normal human experience. But, my journey continues – new experiences with new wines, new ideas about simple and arduous forms of nature, and how I perceive them.
Current Mood: I wake up to uncertainty, confusion, my heart a little in the wrong place, vacancy of comfort, hungry as hell, and making the biggest attempt to go into the hustle of the wine world without tears streaming down my face. Some self help homies would tell me that this is where I should live; figure out how to be comfortable in the uncomfortable. Is this where enlightenment begins? Is this where I begin to refocus life and become the person I always dreamed I could be…
Be a friend and let’s just talk real here – is the expectation of newness all rainbows and butterflies? What ever happened to being honest with the fact that you are miserable? Now, miserable has ebbs and flows. I’ve never been to a point, with business, where I lay my head down and wail, or feel I will throw my computer against the wall. It’s been close, but I’ve learned how to alter a mental state to a point where the flip of my mood is a thing of wonderment. Yes, I’m hiding behind a dirty screen of resentment, sadness, “why can’t you like me” feels, and other really stupid ideas we have about ourselves. It’s all just happening now, and with the speed of a freight train.
Hopelessness leads to wines of contentment. We want to feel liberated, we want to feel satisfied, we want all the pleasure a convenient choice can give us. This doesn’t mean to use wine as a vehicle to alter your mind – that is an unhealthy thought pattern, and just stop that. I’m talking about the luxury and awareness, through our senses, that we can be just “ok” for a moment in time. Is that an organic thing for you? Oh honey, that takes work for me…
I chose Cakebread Chardoanny, at a moment in time, that I needed to stop my mind, and know that my choice would generate the “stunt my brain waves” reaction I wanted. To dig deeper….
- Chardonnay is so “ordinary” – I’ll give you that. It’s usually a grape, besides Pinot Grigio, that Ladies That Lunch shovel into their gullets by the bottle. Ok then why; I love the “idea” of citrus and melon flavors hitting my nose before I take a sip. When done well, like this wine was, there is structure, subtle tones of minerality and waves of changing fruit flavors. Chardonnay can develop in the glass, in the bottle, during your experience. It can help evolve your pressured state into that of lightness and affinity.
- Napa Valley, really? – I’ve been running, no speeding, away from Napa wines; I just know there is more to life than Napa. However, I can’t deny how Carneros can deliver. Foggy mornings, cool afternoons (thank you San Pablo Bay) – this is text book chardonnay territory. That kind of climate will deliver acidity, an elegance, full fruit bowl goodness, and incredible balance.
- What, Why, and Why – Honestly, it was the most trusted bottle on the wine list that was in front of me. My choice had nothing to do with the weather; it was cold as hell outside. I was at a cozy bar, sitting in the nook (you all know what I’m talking about – that place in the bar where you can just cuddle up to), and wanted a weighted wine without feeling weighty. Red would have been “too much”, Sauvignon Blanc would have been reprehensible; this chardonnay, with its notes of spiced apple and vanilla complexity, ended a very lovely evening. If I had a bite in front of me, I would choose a oily piece of grilled salmon; perfect balance of food to wine ratio, oaky flavors combining with toasty grill smoke, with both food and wine finishing with a subtle tone of richness in texture.
At this moment, I feel as if I’ve stayed in the bath tub too long; pruned up, drunk on steam, and trying to balance on jelly legs.
This is what happens when you try to do and be everything; and what American isn’t guilty of just that. Why can’t we breathe through our day rather than screaming down a tunnel, naked and raw in your dirty car, while chewing on that turkey leg of wanting and progression – ok, where did that come from, but I couldn’t help painting the picture in my head for you. (and what a picture, right?)
Sounds like I’m loosing my mind, but I’m actually taking a moment. Yes, taking a moment – this is a thing. Compare it to the idea of working smarter not harder. However, isn’t “harder” how you push ahead from the pack? So now I’m confused. How can I be the best version of myself, stay smart, not fry my mind, still be a caring human, retain relationships, and learn more about my craft? Yo, that’s a lot of stuff.
Is it easy for you to step away from yourself and observe? I’m obviously not good at it, and now, for my career, I gotta figure out what wine to bring to whom to sell something to someone. Goodness, what a mess. So here is my plan for the moment; find a wine EVERYONE, that I am selling to, will raise an eyebrow at.
When I first started researching Bodegas Ego, the first thing I see on their website is this:
If you listen closely, the wine will tell you many things…
Ok, you have my attention. I have believed that since I’ve begun in this business; the wine will dictate who buys it, what experience I will have, where my mind will go. You can learn, study, pontificate – listening can open that wine storybook full of colors and textures.
What gleamed from the lineup was the Monastrell/Cabernet Sauvignon/Petite Verdot blend called Infinito:
- Hailing from Jumilia Spain. Hot as hell there. However, with enough elevation and a specific style of soil, the wines can really sing.
- This grape Monastrell (also called Mourvedre) does so good here; a very small and thick skinned grape, which produces those intense and layered big boy wines we love. And Petite Verdot – cmon, it just pulls you right into the core of this wine. Mixed with the backbone of a Cab, just delightful.
- In the glass, it’s all here. There is a rooted blackberry jam component at the bottom of the sip, overlaid with spicy holiday currants and – this is crazy – my uncle (Uncle Red mind you) had this chair that he smoked a cigar in – you didn’t just smell the cigar, you felt it, and now that felling is present in the wine. There is structure, there is power, and it again, just makes you happy.
- Surprise to me – this is matured in American oak. I’m not usually a fan of American oak; to awkward and clunky, but when used correctly…. I just read a descriptor that American oak can give flavors of cream soda – and YES you nailed it Mr. Internet. That is the secondary flavor I’m picking up and LOVING.
Listen, I’m going to bed. I’m beat. What a nice feeling it is to be exhausted, and done with the day. Tomorrow is creeping though, and right at the rim of my dreams.
Reflection isn’t important – it is the soul essence of who I was, am, and will be. It is helping my heart vibrate and live again.
Yes, live again. When I think of myself in the last four months, I imagine a cartoon character; grey in color, a “South Park” body with limbs that don’t hinge, slant of a mouth, eyes half closed. I found a way to interact with my friends and family with this persona, and dazed out the hours of every day. I’m not into drugs, but I can imagine this is how a constant high feels; nothing really getting through to you, like your arms and legs have fallen asleep, angry but not connecting to the rage enough to yell, with a belly full of sullen dreams.
I’m looking back, laughing at the fact that I thought I would crumble, and forging ahead like a beast. I ask you to embrace new flavors, change, and experiences – I’m there with you now. So let’s indulge in a wine that you would usually admire in a wine shop or wine menu, but rarely pick up to taste.
- The grape: Vernacchia (white wine ladies and gents – just to be clear)
- Where is it from: a hilly town in Tuscany, Italy, called San Gimignano
- Why so special: Well, for one thing, it is the only white wine in the area to receive DOCG status – in other words, it has a systematic approach, by law, to excellence. It’s also old as hell, and has been around since anyone can remember. Every time I taste great Barolo wines, with people in the wine industry, there is always a bottle of Vernacchia di San Gimignano to release our taste buds from overload. It’s classic to Italy, to Tuscany – making it an outstanding, every day drinking kind of situation.
- Give me the low down on taste: The wine is light in stature, but full bodied as you go. I don’t know how that really happens, but it does. Very floral upon approach, but this almondy and citrus blast steps in. Because of the soil this wine is grown in, a minerality persists throughout tasting. It is pleasant, gives the body a unique spirit, and paired exceptionally well with a medley of shellfish, fava beans, and orange segments. Oh yeah, the wine states it is organic if that turns you on.
- Best part: I only spent $14.99. Found this gem at Shoprite Wines and Spirits in Caldwell NJ: http://www.shoprite.com/pd/stores/NJ/Caldwell/ShopRite-Wines-and-Spirits-of-Caldwell/317179062
- Producer please: Poderi Arcangelo Vernacchia di San Gimignano. Can’t go wrong. Great website: https://www.poderiarcangelo.it/
Fortitude comes from yourself, sure, but some wacky places as well. I had my tribe – and thank the heavens those people still stick around. I have my family – I think my mother would drive a truck over you if you had a sorry word for any of her kids. But the people that flit and float in and out of your life keep floating. Did I need them in the first place? What was the point of them in the first place? And where do they go in the end…it doesn’t matter. The you created is the you of your past – and the past can be a tool of inspiration. Embrace the you now, embrace a definition of who you are and the great things you have done, embrace a definition of a white wine with a sense of place. Take all that stuff now, pat the old you on the back for surviving, and go kick some ass.
Beautiful food porn from Turtle and the Wolf, Montclair, NJ. https://turtleandthewolf.com/
Hate is a hideous and an unforgiving word. You can’t come back from that.
But food and wine – you let me down.
I bet on you. Not only that, I studied you for years, screamed your name, stayed up nights crying over you, over indulged in your glory, lost relationships because of your conniving nature – in the end, did really bad things just for your approval.
It hasn’t always been a honeymoon, but we had it good for awhile. You made me who I am in a way; teaching me to speak up, have an opinion even if it isn’t popular, combine the artist and the analytic, and to find the humor in the fact that no one really gets me. I guess that is what comfort really means – hence the “comfort food” imagery consistently thrown out to make us feel better about devouring a plate of mac and cheese. We had amenity together – held hands through it all. I was content and flourished with you at my side – total team moment.
But listen, we gotta fix this relationship. Just because you impress the notion that I will be “ok” in your glory doesn’t mean you can take advantage of me. I got your number, even if it took me up until now to realize we aren’t good together. I need you, I get it, but I don’t feel you need me.
Here is the beaten down girl moment; I realize this is my fault. I let you in without any hesitation or concern. I didn’t have a long term idea of what a goal with you really means. I saw it going bad and not only didn’t stop it, but did everything to hasten our untimely departure from one another. There were no boundaries and no concern of my health. I allowed peers to inform me I wasn’t “what they are looking for”, or that there is “another plan out there” for me. You are my plan, you are my intention for all things good in my life, and I’m not walking away empty handed.
As the responsible adult I am, I refuse to shame you. Trust me, I hold myself back every day, and wonder if social media is not the outcome of situations like this. I have the ability to report all of your unseemly stories – don’t forget, I know where the bodies are buried. (I always loved that analogy) But my future beckons, and in the end, nothing comes from sour story telling.
Good comes from different ways of thinking, doing, socializing, working, not working, and being. Good comes from me flipping the coin and seeing your good side. It’s not going to be easy – I’m already in a state of panic. But I’ve put in my time, and I’m REALLY GOOD at managing our stained past. I’m not asking for favors, leads, or a wink of approval from you. You can give that to the one that flirts and uses their “relationship” history better than I ever will. I am raw, naked in a way, but wearing an amour. No more sitting in the board room listening – I’m ready to run the show.
To celebrate, we won’t eat cake. The bottle staring at me on my desk will not get opened. My kitchen will be clean of cheese and puff pastry, as well as my dance card of wine dinners and bar crawls. I may loose some friends, but they probably weren’t the best choice of allies in the first place. (How many have called to say hello? Betcha you answered that quickly…)
But don’t fret – I’m still here and still curious. I AM that girlfriend you can’t get rid of. I’ll answer the questions and ask the questions and figure out all the answers. I’m still going to write about you, read about you, watch you on social media (on occasion), and try to completely take advantage of the good nature that resides somewhere deep in your soul. Don’t believe I am at ease from my blogs, posts, texts, pictures – they are just smoke and mirrors. I am looking for a deeper connection. We can have a deeper connection.
I forgot something – wait for the comeback.
—– my journal, January 1, 2019
The whole “Time goes by so quickly” line is a dirty lie.
It’s up to you to stop time. It’s up to you to NOT say “I’m good – just busy” – because you are not. I stole this idea from an article I read this morning. I am repeating it because the idea is haunting me. It’s not the cliche idea that you are missing something, or wasting priceless moments. You are being selfish. Well, I am being selfish and lazy with the grabbing of time. I’m scared of stopping – there I said it. I have a hint you are as well. I’m scared to give that open door a shove – open instead of closed I need to point out – for fear of defeat. Yes, yes, I’m the broken hearted. I’m the sour faced expression you see when you tell me your feelings. Allowing time – see that word “allow” – to wash over me chills me to the bone.
Time and decision making are companions in my life. The watching of time is making my decisions dull, lifeless, and all over passive. I grab for the same wine. I look for the same flavors. Time has made my passion lethargic and moody. Enough of the Susan tragedy – you know this life I’m living isn’t all boos and tears in the pillow. I have friends – more like I’m working on relationships – that fill the gap, kick my time dilemma in the ass, and spice up a simple moment. I also have really really good restaurants – I mean the stuff you SHOULD be writing about – just a step away. Time to investigate (couldn’t help myself)…
The description of “New American Eatery” can always be a complete win or a run for your life situation. Don’t collapse my dreams with a crappy chicken liver pate – that is just wrong. Turtle and The Wolf in Upper Montclair – I am now in love with you – let the stalking begin. https://turtleandthewolf.com/
As you figured, I’m still thinking about the pate this morning as I write this blog. Creepy but true. We had two wines – Stags’ Leap Winery Viogner and Stag’s Leap Wine Cellars “Hands of Time” Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot blend. You and I have discussed this Viogner – viscous, balanced, full of citrus and slight honeysuckle fruit, sexy, alluring, just everything good in a bottle. The Viogner became slightly metallic with the pate – understood and expected. I love this wine by itself, just standing alone to beguile my stuck in time mood – that’s what it is good for, and more. Better paired with the second course (you eat with me, we eat in courses and share – deal with it) of mussels and fries. And that broth…
We passed these two wines around all night – that sounds kind of kinky, and just wrong, but it was working. My first time with Hands of Time, which was a surprise even to me. I really hate to say this, but in my mind, this wine was always an “easy” sell. Great name, almost half and half Cab and Merlot – no big flavor notes, but no stinky elbows to the ribs either. Just good, simple, straight forward – I can appreciate an effortless yet uncomplicated wine conversation. If we had made different food choices – ones with screaming spices or smokey charred peaks – we would have been screwed. For this bistro style dinning, perfect pairing.
We ended our journey with kielbasa over sauerkraut and braised apples. Polish girl eating house cured kielbasa – could be a train wreck. Skin snapped in all the right places, sauerkraut brined perfectly – win and thank you for not ruining my life.
This meal was very “Napa Valley” in style, so it was perfect to enjoy wines that I feel emulate a notion about Napa. The two Stags sometimes confuse us. They tell us very different stories, how winemakers live their history, and how they want time to pass. There is elegance, there is harmony, even tension where appropriate. I like that. I like being grabbed a bit by the time of the now, and hooking in to what time might unveil. I’m not cured of my “I’m to busy” excuse. I’ll still hide behind that one. But I can bend at the waist a bit, and give time it’s due moment in the sun. We still aren’t friends.