#20, or where has Pinot Noir been all my life?

This blog, for those who care, was originally about more than just my wedding. It was about something bigger, something more potentially life changing. Well, I seem to have fallen off the bandwagon (as I am wont to do, really), but I'm putting my foot down now. Let me just have a glass of wine.

But not just any wine. Red wine. Something that, up until a couple days ago, I hated. First of all, it's served room temperature, and I really hate that. I like my drinks hot or cold, depending on what it is, i.e. coffee or tea either way, water cold, hot chocolate, well hot. Second, the taste. For me, red wine always looks really good. I mean, it's a gorgeous drink, a really beautiful color, and god knows I love the look of wine glasses. So all in all, very pretty. It looks like it should taste fantastic, and I suppose to many people it is. But you know when you see something that looks really good, and you are really excited about until you actually take a bite, and you find it's nothing like you expected, and you really don't like it? You know that face you make when that happens? That's the face I make when I drink red wine.

But there is something so romantic about it to me. I've always thought it was a really adult thing to do, to go to a restaurant and drink red wine. I don't know why I think this, but it's something I associate with being an adult (I know, there are teenagers across the globe drinking cheap Merlot out of plastic cups who are definitely not adults). It's a sophisticated drink. To me, it says, "I'm an adult who knows what I'm talking about." Even if you really don't (and I know most probably don't, but bear with me).

Most of the time I feel like I'm just pretending to be an adult. I'm 23, almost 24. I have two degrees. I manage to make some money freelancing while job hunting. I can do my own laundry without losing socks (a real triumph), and I'm getting married, but I still feel like a kid. Whenever I go out with John's friends, who are all slightly older than me, I feel like I'm masquerading as one of them.

Which, in some ways, is kind of funny, because I don't know I've ever seen any of them drinking red wine. I'm pretty sure I've seen more of my age friends drinking red wine than his, but still, this is how I perceive it.

So, the other night, I decided to go out on a limb and give it another try. While at the grocery store, I purchased a bottle of Pinot Noir.

The (Illustrated) Story of Us: Pinot Noir & Me



I chose this specific type of red wine because I really like Pinot Grigio, so it seemed like a good place to start. I chose this brand because I really like its Pinot Grigio. And it was seven bucks, and that's about all I was willing to spend.



I carefully read the bottle. As you do. Well, at least as I do.



And then I took a sip.

And another.

And another.

The verdict?



I liked it. Even better, I really liked it. I might even say I love it. I could go as far to see it might be my new favorite drink, but my love for vodka tonics is long and strong, so I don't know about that. But I definitely enjoyed it much more than I thought I would.

I was honestly I little surprised it was as easy as this. I don't know if it was the kind of wine, the brand, the fact that no one is breathing down my neck asking, "Did you like it?" or what. But regardless, I like it. Maybe it's psychosomatic, but I really don't care. Even if I never find another kind of red wine I enjoy, I'll always have Bella Sera Pinot Noir.

And no, I don't automatically feel like an adult, but I do feel a little more sophisticated, a little more exciting, and adult-ish. Which is better than pseudo adult any day.