Wrong?

I am sitting here alone tonight. Feeling more alone than I have in a very long time, the voices that normally fill this space….my space, either out of town or simply silent as they are attending to whichever parts of their lives need them more than I do. Finally looking at having a couple days off after a crushing six day week complete with finger almost sniffing and a rather disgusting battle with the brownie like textured goo that affixes itself to the underside of our drain covers. We have these covers, (that don’t come off by the way) that have holes just a touch larger than the ones in my shower head….cannot get anything down there, well aside from disgusting bits of softened cheese, bread and the chunky bits, (gagging) of backwashed wine. Somehow this crud builds up so I have to take a bamboo skewer, poke it in the holes to dislodge it and then keep poking and picking until it finally washes down the drain. This is a vile task and I do in fact gag a few times while doing it. Once completed I feel great, accomplished and like I did good for the store, yesterday was no different. I was admiring my work, watching as the water raced cleanly down the drain. No water filling up the sink, it was awesome, I was all, “Check me out” that was until I noticed that I could not hear the water dumping into the floor drain….fuck. I turned around to see water overflowing all over the kitchen floor. So yeah, I successfully dislodged the goo….and sent it in a big nasty blob right into the drain of the floor sink. Lots of gagging, wet knees and loads of frustration later I cleaned up the mess I made while cleaning and was on my way home.

Walked through the door, no wait…unlocked and then walked through the door. This almost never happens when you have a husband that works from home, the door is always just open and walking up to a closed front door was just another reminder that I was on my own. The next reminder was dinner, it was a non-issue. No conversations about what to have, no shopping lists, nothing, just me. Standing in front of the fridge grabbing this cheese, that cured pork bit slice and a jar of olives. I am a food freak, shocking I know…I mean have you seen me?! I love food and food plans. I am one of those people that will stand in line for Korean BBQ tacos…..from a truck no less, and take the 10:30 reservation at Mozza, (Mario Batali’s joint here in LA) on a Monday night. I adore the scene, the passion and while I cannot put away as much food as my tiny friends, well I love picking and tasting, but when I’m alone after a long ass week….I can literally live on crackers, olives, cheese and salty pork products.



Handful of crackers and chewing on a pickled carrot I flipped open my laptop to check my email. Dammit. Two facebook notifications alerting me that two people I don’t know made a comment on the post of someone I barely know. Alone. So blaringly silent. I opted to just enjoy the quiet, let myself be silent as well….no talking, no typing, no I love yous. Just still and feeding my bone weary self on shit television and salty snacks. Listened as my white trash neighbor cooed her love song to her more-absent-than-there, jailhouse tattooed, droopy, shirt off, beer drinking while smoking a “grette” with the same hand, husband…”Johnnie, if you are going to go out please tell me! I woke up, (which means emerged from passing out) and you were gone, my heart fell out of my butthole!” now that’s love people and I had to listen to this while sitting alone. Sigh….

The more screaming the silence, (after the lovebirds went inside) the more I was back in my goddamn head. Fuck I hate that. Poured myself a long, deep glass of Domaine de la Fouquette Cotes de Provence Rose, one of my favorites from our Saturday tasting. The aggressive aromatics, sharp and damn-near snarky…lime rind, fresh herbs and a touch of that white tangy, wet, crunchy bit from a slice of watermelon. The wine possessing just enough “stuff” to pull my head out of my….errr, head and making me feel what it is I was longing to, attention. It wasn’t that I needed attention to be paid to me, I was looking for a place to rest my attention and this wine was able to handle me. Took me in line and pulled me along with each deep and soulfully satisfying sip. It was to be my lover for the evening and I was more than ready to shed my bullshit and simply give myself over to it.




As I emptied the last little drops into my feed-me-more glass I wondered if it was wrong for me to drain a bottle of wine alone like that. To let my mood influence me, let lonely move my wrist and pour another sip. Amazingly I found the answer in that last glass of wine. The answer came to me as the last few drops spilled upon my waiting palate. Nope. Not wrong at all….

Is It Wrong….

That I refused my husband’s many requests to have me fly out and join him on his Vegas convention trip?
Nope because you see, had I gone I would not be making love to this wine right now. Would not be here talking caked sinks, gagging and Rose with all 14 of you.

Is It Wrong….

That I ached for time alone but feel pangs of lonely when it is given to me?
Nope because you see, that is part of the “crazy” that is me. I am here and now I’m fucking rhyming…damn you pink wine and silence. Damn you.

Is It Wrong….

That I pontificate about fancy food, how important it is to eat local and fresh but find myself falling into the “easy” and noshing on like Chex Mix for dinner?
Nope because you see, to love and truly appreciate anything is to know and taste it all. To fully understand how brilliant a meal is you must dip your toes in the…other stuff. To truly appreciate how lovely it is to share a meal, well you must eat a few alone.




Is It Wrong…..

That I shit talk on wines that are too sweet but have been known to suck back a few glasses of Plum Wine at my favorite Chinese restaurant?
Nope because you see, these glasses are often a gift from the house….a thank you for being a good customer. The kind of customer that is remembered and watched, The kind of customer that is brought a tiny tea cup full of water after the place is closed, and told, “We know you smoke, please enjoy your cigarette and your wine”. The kind of customer that will remember this and be back over and over again.

Is It Wrong…..

That I talk openly about sex and sensuality? The way everything from words to wine can begin the purring, the soft spine….the deep, chest filling breaths while keeping my “body count” below ten in the twenty-seven years I have been, um…partaking?
Nope because you see, I find real humor in how seriously people take themselves. Their wants and desires are not that set apart from what the rest of us want, long for, ache for but for some reason everyone gets their crunders in a twist when you speak of slippery, pulling, pulsating…mouth watering. Wine, food, sex all things that when fed properly…will have you coming back for more. When, “fed” the right way, the natural unpolished and unpretentious way, from any of the above…I giggle. I chuckle when someone plunges a piece of perfect food between my lips. I laugh when a wine slips inside me and I can feel its fingertips bubbling beneath my skin and the other…well, a deep guttural, raspy giggle will let you know…I am pleased.




Is It Wrong….

That I let the sensual part of wine be my guide? Let the feeling, the texture and the stories surrounding the estate move me?
Nope because you see, without lust and passion it is just a product. Wine is and deserves to be so much more than a product. The sore backs, the cracked and dirty fingernails of the winemaker, the sweetly shy way they take our praise, all of these things should be at the table with you. In the glass as you open your lips and take their works in. They made something…grew and molded something, for you. Let yourself feel it, taste it, be lit up and buzzy by it…but remember there is someone, somewhere hoping against hope that you are enjoying it…damn, how sexy is that?




If any of this is wrong, well I want to meet the judge and jury. See if they can sway me. Change my mind…make me see it any other way, because as I sit….right now all buzzy on my Rose, listening as it fills in my missing pieces, soothes my crazy days….fuck I just want to wrap my fingers and palate around another glass. Scraping goo, sniffing fingers and being alone, all made tolerable, laughable and desirable when there is something vibrating between my lips….