Yum yum yum adulthood is yum

It's no longer assumed that someone in their twenties is an adult. At least for my race, class, and educational level, extended adolescence has become the norm for people pursuing their artsy dreams and experimenting with romantic partners who regularly destroy them emotionally. I went after these things hard for a while. I mean, I went to grad school. For screenwriting.

I am by no means out of the weeds of immaturity I've let grow over my life. But there comes a time when a person looks around them and says, "I feel like a real person right now." That happened to me recently when I bought a bed. Ok, so it's on back order and I probably won't get it until next July, but I bit the bullet and bought an actual bed frame. The six-year-old mattress and box spring combo I bought on the cheap in Koreatown, which I'd call a Full but it's actually a little smaller than a full, it's like just a janky little non-size, is going away, to be replaced by my roommate's six-year-old Queen sized mattress he bought for even less, but in a real bed frame! Someday! Probably!

Once I bought one thing that made me feel like an adult, I wanted to do it again. So I went out and spent a whopping 8 dollars on a wine.

Whoa!

Just saying what we were all thinking. Which was, whoa! Here's the wine I bought:

Do adults clean the smudges off their wine glasses oops guess not

Look how legit and French-looking it is! Famille Perrin's 2013 Reserve sounds fancy as fuck, but remember, Reserve doesn't really mean anything outside of a few places. I must say, this wine is twice as good as the four-dollar favs I've come to depend on. Bursting with aromas of blackberry preserves and plum, plus a little white pepper, this is a luscious wine with a long, spicy finish. It's a damn good wine which I might even share with my lovely boyfriend, who, I am proud to say, does not take pleasure in regularly stepping on my heart. I'm so grown up!

My friends are doing some pretty exciting things

You know, friendships can be tricky. You have to pick super awesome people, then be loyal and kind to them. Oh, wait, so no, they're not that hard at all.

My friends are doing great things constantly, but I thought I'd take a moment to point out three in particular who did things that fit in ever so nicely with the themes of this blog: wine, food and comedy.

On the food front, my friend Gianna has been delivering solid recipes and adorable insights on her quest for Italian citizenship over at A Pinch of Direction for a while now. In addition to some of the tastiest recipes I've ever been blessed to try (the passionfruit jam will change your life), Gianna's candid admission of mistakes and tips for correcting them in advance are something I'd like to see in every cookbook. She changes recipes to suit her mood or diet and encourages you to do the same, all of it with heart and humor. It makes cooking fun and improvisational and collaborative instead of intimidating. Definitely check her out and get cooking.

Comedy-wise, I am beyond excited about my friend Kate's super new and already super successful new project, Ladies Against Humanity. Created in the most organic, why-not fashion when she heard Cards Against Humanity had no female writers, Kate expected it to be a silly little website to show a few coworkers. It took her about 20 minutes to make it. When I retweeted her a mere 2 hours after she created it, I didn't realize I was actually jumping on a bandwagon, as the site is already a runaway success. And of course it is, just look at it, it's hilarious. You can follow and tweet suggestions for additional cards here. Guys, this is the person with whom I will be watching The Millionaire Matchmaker tonight. I feel like I won the friendship lottery.

Oh, and isn't this blog supposed to be about wine? Totally killing at being a social human being and aspiring oenophile is my friend Liz, who has started The West Hollywood Wine society. Liz is a great hostess. I've witnessed and been guilty of spills, glass breaks, and all sorts of mischief, and she always takes it in stride. But this might be her most genius gathering yet. At the bi-weekly meetings, she has everyone bring a bottle based on a theme and say something about it, plus has two people "volunteer as tribute" (her adorable way of having a couple guests bring snacks). Liz kept the ball rolling on discussion and even let me lead douchey, official-ish tastings. The pours got bigger as the hours got smaller, and suffice it to say I had way more fun on a Wednesday night than anyone should be allowed. Kudos, Miss Elizabeth! Thank you for letting me bring my tasting glasses and act very pretentious, and for the moment you hushed the room and encouraged me to recite a poem. Your friendship choice here may have been questionable, but I am grateful you made it. And if anyone is interested in my selection for last night's theme, "Your Go-to Wine," it was this guy.

some of last night's crew

That's not rose.

GUYS I ACCIDENTALLY TOOK A GIF ON MY PHONE AND HAVE NO IDEA HOW I DID IT BUT WANT TO DO IT AGAIN FOREVER HOW????

lovely liz

I bought Kelis' pants

Sometimes wine makes you want to stay in and curl up with Netflix and try to forget about the human condition.

Other times it makes you buy Kelis' pants.

Ok, so I'm not trying to brag, but I literally did buy Kelis' pants. If you don't believe me, ask Kelis. The same way she asked me to get her another glass of wine when I bargained with her for the pants by saying I was too poor to be here, I was only there because my friend is a waitress at Bar Marmont and oh yeah, KELIS WAS HAVING A FULL-ON YARD SALE AT BAR MARMONT. And I bought her pants. These are they:

I can't decide if I might like them to be shorts instead. Thoughts are welcome.

Anyway, I was thrilled with the La Granja 360 2011 Tempranillo (the one with the pig on the label in the Spanish section at Trader Joe's). I mean THRILLED. Normally, that in and of itself would have constituted a proper night. Never mind that with its fruit and earth, juicy red rapsberry, cherry and strawberry grounded in tremendous forest floor and peet moss and greenery, this stuff was made to pair with comfort food and takeout (moo-shu pork is its soulmate; a complex mac and cheese its dirty little secret on the side. Either way, a match made in heaven).

So yes, I would have been good with just this, a cheap, wonderful wine.

But you know what else is super fucking good? BUYING KELIS' PANTS. God I wish I didn't have so much self respect and would demand celebs take pictures of me with them and their pants. I really should have documented the transaction. I hate my self (respect).

The point is, leaving the house is sometimes also good. It's important to appreciate life's simple pleasures, to embrace solitude instead of whining about loneliness. But it's also important to interact with the world. I know this is obvious to most people, but for me, it's so much easier to stay home in sweats with my great, cheap wine than it is to put on a bra and be a real person.

Being a real person is hard. You have to listen to the opinions of others and be judged unfavorably by dudes at bars and calculate tips with your phone-brain and it's just a lot of effort. Conversations about other people's lives make you think about your own. Being face to face with men (it still counts if you stare awkwardly at the guy's shoes or a spot on the wall to the left of his head because of confidence issues) reminds you that you are not getting any younger or hotter or sex. Much better to stay in, put on "Dancing on My Own" and text your bestie until you fall asleep or her boyfriend is all, "stop texting, Julia. Ali is never going to not have an over-dramatically urgent joke to tell you about her new theories on her recent weight gain (parasites). She is destroying our relationship. JK our relationship is amazing and a beacon of hope for all single people everywhere."*

Most of the time I go out, I wish I hadn't. I get my hopes up that tonight will be the night where everybody dances and the only drunk snack I have at the end of the night is a diet coconut water and also that that exists now and I'll meet a great guy and bond with a million friends with whom I've lost touch and my shoes will feel great all night. And those hopes are dashed so hard. So, so hard.

But last night, I bought Kelis' pants. And while moo-shu might be the soulmate of this wine, these pants are the soulmate of my legs.

So it's probably all worth it. It's probably worth it to keep hoping about everything, just in case.

Try La Granja Tempranillo. And occasionally, try leaving the house. It's not always the worst.

Oh, and in case you doubted it:

*Paraphrased from what I imagine to be conversations had by my favorite couple in the world.**
**Disney couples excluded because they are almost all imaginary.

Wine crush part II: if you can't be with the wine you love...

Get a fuckbuddy.

Or so I used to think.

This is a story of a wine crush. But this is not a love story. It's the sad story of a wine crush worse than unrequited, for I had a taste. And a taste of honey's worse than none at all.

A few months back at a dear friend's going away party, I had a truly marvelous Tempranillo at my favorite wine bar. It was earthy like nothing I'd ever tasted, but bursting with bright strawberry and raspberry flavors as well. It was a god-damn picnic in a glass. The party happened to be at my favorite (closest)(but also genuinely favorite) wine bar, which updates their wine list constantly. Btw, Britt P, I still owe you like 20 bucks from that night. We're overdue for me to pay it back in drinks. Hit me up, girl.

Anyway, by the time I realized I'd never get this wine off my mind, I didn't know the name of it. Just the grape. I was the Prince after the ball in Cinderella, only instead of a glass slipper, I had only a vague understanding of what I'd tasted and a limited vocabulary to describe it. I basically went back a few months later and was like, "hey, who was that girl I met at that really crowded party and her shoes were like clear or maybe black or maybe I actually didn't see her shoes maybe I'm talking about her glasses? I'm not sure she wore glasses. Can you just tell me if there were any hot girls at the party?" But there were a lot of hot girls at the party. Obviously. It's a party. Who would start a wine bar if they weren't going to have a ton of hot girl wine equivalents?

The cool thing about Tempranillos is they can be light and bright or murky and sexy or anywhere in between. Tempranillo is the chief grape in the Rioja region, where this crazy complex and gold laced treat is from. And like Spanish people, and people of all races, there is a lot of variety among them. Cause of not racism.

But I was a bit wine racist. I thought I could fill the hole in my heart left by my wine crush Tempranillo with some other Tempranillo. Behold, said other Tempranillo:

Ok, so pretty, right? And I gotta say, this wine was DTF. The Cala Blanca 2010 Tempranillo, which I picked up 2 bottles of at the 5 cent wine sale, is full of smoke and black cherry. It's not complicated; it's not messing around. It's here to fill a void and we both know it. It's not about remembering it in the morning. It's about not being alone tonight. I should probably date more.

As satisfying as it was in the moment, as strong and as powerful its more immediately appealing flavor was, it wasn't my wine crush. The next day I woke up feeling more alone than before, having not slept quite as well as I would with my true wine crush, and nowhere near as well as I would have slept alone (sober).

I guess what I'm realizing is, yes, if you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with. But that one shouldn't be just anyone. It should be you, by yourself, appreciating your own slumber and adoring your own dreams until true love comes along. As good as this wine was, and it was good, it wasn't worth it. I should have held out.

And maybe so should the wine. If it were not an object completely controlled by my actions. But still, maybe it should have. Because on Sunday, I brought my second bottle to my writers group. And with its charming bottle design and lush fruit flavors, I swear, a couple of my friends started crushing on it.

There's a lid for every pot. Unless you lose the lid, like the lid gets in a car accident or meets a younger, hotter pot, but then it's still ok because you have a trump card to play every time someone else is complaining. But generally speaking from the hopeful depths of my heart, there's some-wine out there for everybody. Maybe there's even someone crushing on me, not in spite of the fact that I just said "some-wine," but because of it.

Opaque as fuck, man.