I went to the Ottawa Wine and Food show last night because my friend Pam's husband was too sick. In case you're wondering, I'm totally fine with being second choice. It was the day after my husband got back from Japan. It always seems like that day should be great, but it always kind of sucks. While he's away, I'm coasting on adrenaline, I'm efficient and in charge, I'm managing homework and meals and bedtimes and feeling virtuous and competent. When he gets back, all the adrenaline goes to Cleveland and I start the day reading in my chair because it seems like I deserve a rest, but then I start feeling guilty for not doing anything, then I try to do something and do it badly and get crankier, and it all goes horribly wrong. God help the poor man if he tries for welcome-home sex.
So it was good to get out of the house with a good friend, and if there was wine and food involved, so much the better.
My palate is not sophisticated. Even when they hand the glass to me and tell me specifically that it's supposed to taste like oak, cigars, sea grass or oysters, the best I can do is generally "mm. Good". (in the case of oysters, I was actually quite grateful for this). I also immediately forgot the names of all the really good ones.
I didn't realize, although I probably should have, that a great number of people go to the Wine and Food Show in order to show themselves as well as sample wine and food. At one point, after squeezing past a group of young men in suits, I tapped Pam on the shoulder and said "do you ever watch How I Met Your Mother?" and she said "I was just thinking the same thing!". I guess it's nice that they suited up. I did get hit on by a very drunk, very very tall guy who yelled down at me that I was gorgeous. Based on the other women there I have to conclude that a) he was mocking me or b) at this point in my life I only look good through a drunken haze or from a great vertical distance. I mean, those skinny little things probably just disappear into the floor for someone whose eyes are that far up. That's what I'm telling myself, anyway.
It was fun, and unexpected, and showed me that I should probably get out of the house on the day after Matt gets back from somewhere.