Tag Archives: wine

Friendship is the Perfect Blendship

Over the weekend, I was very proud to be part of the wedding of my best friend. So, when I saw the Tuesday Ten prompt to share 10 things you love about your best friend, I could think of no one more appropriate.

I met her 12 years ago when we were young pups working at the local NBC 4 station; she as an upstart producer, and me as a clueless web writer. We bonded over the things that bring young women together; politics and social issues.

Actually, it was purses. Kate Spade to be precise.


And psychiatrists don’t usually have wine.

We have been friends ever since, through breakups, my marriage, the subsequent babies, new jobs, new boys, and, as always, shopping adventures. Through it all she has been like a sister to me, and I hope she would say the same about me.

I can call her at any hour. Once, I thought my husband was dead because he was out late. And, by late I mean he said he was going out or Happy Hour, and ended up staying out until the bars closed without ever answering his phone. Before calling every hospital and prison in the area, I called my friend. At midnight. She was reassuring, supportive, and even offered to kick his ass when he came rolling in around 3.

We can be honest when we’re shopping. Hideous outfit? Accessories too off-trend? We will tell each other, and even go as far as to rip heinous articles of clothing off each other’s bodies. No friend of mine will wear coral and mint chevron palazzo pants.

Being there for each other. When she broke up with her boyfriend, I sent chocolate, love, and a sympathetic ear. I then willingly took him back into the friendship circle when he realized he was idiot and begged my friend for forgiveness. And she forgives me when I arrive 10 minutes late. For everything. All the time.

Wine, delicious wine. We both enjoy a glass of Chardonnay, and have introduced each other to yummy brands whenever we discover them. And we’re never too shy to offer to bring some wine over when we hang out.

She likes my kids. I mean, I kind of hope she would since she is their godmother, but she doesn’t have to. Anyone who thinks my kids are awesome, is OK in my book.

We are ridiculously hot. Before your mind goes too far into the gutter, she is beautiful, smart and stylish, just like me. Together we are an unbeatable combo, and push each other to heights of fashion excellence. Seriously, if she’s rocking some quatrefoil, I may end up purchasing some for myself. And I have a feeling her fabulousness in a scarf is due to my positive influence.

Organization, discipline, and a plan. In another life she would have made a highly effective General. As one who is often in a tornado of disorder and chaos, she is like an oasis with her executive decisions, schedules, and anal-retentive structure. I used to be this way, and maybe she will inspire me to be that way again. Or, maybe not. That sounds too tiring.

Epic road trips. Cherry blossoms, wine, and a little March Madness in the nation’s capital. Plus, she makes an excellent cuddle buddy when we have to share a bed.

We rock out. Hard. A few years ago we channeled our late 80s and early 90s selves and headed to the NKOTBSB concert. Amidst a sea of like-minded women, we sang along with every pop ballad from our childhood, drank a goodly amount of beer, laughed way too hard, and sighed over the former Hottie McHotpantses that don’t look exactly like the golden gods they were in our youth.

A wicked sense of humor. My bestie seems so very straightlaced and rigid on the surface, but underneath, she is a hilarious woman who loves mob movies and Mitch Hedberg. It’s one of the reasons I love her; she is a constant source of surprise.

See? She is supercalifragilisticexpiaolodociously wonderful. I can’t guarantee that we’ll be friends forever, but I know that I’ll be poorer spiritually if we aren’t.

In closing, I will leave you with a quote that I know would get a giggle out of my friend. “Is it a hippopotamus or a really cool opotamus?” It’s a little something to ponder with your own compatriot.


Filed under Martini Madness

I Should Not Shop eBay After Wine

I love wine. I love shopping. Together you’d think they would be a match made in heaven. That would be a wrong thought, my friend.

When I have a few glasses of wine, I tend to grab my phone, skim the interwebs, play a few games, and shop on eBay. My husband introduced me to eBay and I am hooked. It’s like shopping without buying anything. I can watch auctions go by and live vicariously through someone else’s purchase of a beautiful Hermes scarf, or I can scope out bargains for my favorite designers.

To date, I have placed bids on Christian Louboutin high heels, and Zara dresses; purchased a Yuengling poster with dogs drinking beer… and… sheer underwear for my husband.

Let me explain before the judging begins.

When I do the laundry, and for the most part, I am the only one who does the laundry, I throw out anything with holes or yellow armpits. This bugs my husband to no end because most of his underwear has holes in it and most of his shirts have yellow pits. Consequently, there are occasions when he is shirtless and going commando. I find this hot, but his co-workers would probably not be as enthused.

Take this knowledge with you to my couch, and sit on it with a fishbowl of white wine. With frozen peaches floating in it. This makes the wine more nutritious because there’s a snack at the end. The vitamin C keeps scurvy away. So, you’re roughly halfway through the box of wine, I mean glass, and your husband mentions the fact that he’s running low on underwear and shooting you a dirty look.

What do you do if you’re me and you tend to shop while drinking wine? You get on eBay and solve this problem with underwear! At this point, my mind gets a little fuzzy. I know I looked at a wide variety of underclothes and put a few on watch. And that’s where I thought it ended. But, nay, nay. Nay, I say.

I woke up the next morning and checked my email. There was one from eBay that proclaimed, “Congratulations! You have won the fabulous piece of crap upon which you bid!” No surprise, I’m paraphrasing here.

My hand to God, I was baffled. What the hell did I buy? Maybe I didn’t buy anything. Maybe I was hacked! I opened the email, and it all came back to me. I had purchased some trunks for my husband. They are like boxer briefs, but a little shorter. AND THEY WERE SHEER!

In my state, I had no clue they were sheer. I just thought they were regular old black underwear. And they weren’t Hanes. They were some random ass brand from China. Yes, China.

Now, here’s another fun fact for you. Did you know that you can get things from China, dirt cheap? Yes! It takes six weeks, but these fabulous goods from another land will wing their way to you in a plain brown envelope. Here is what I received just a few weeks later:


Did you catch the brand name? Wangjang. Yeah.

The hubs was not pleased, even though the stripper gear did only cost pennies. A few hundred pennies, but pennies none the less.

Then to add insult to injury, he refused to wear them! At least try these bad boys on. It could be funny, it could be sexy. You don’t know until you try it. At least, that’s what I tell the kids about lima beans.

My husband has banned me from eBay, either with or without wine. I don’t blame him. Although, he might forgive me if I get him that 2$ watch from Shanghai.


Filed under Martini Madness