It's based on a scale that I can hang with; the usual wine rating systems award 50 points just for being wine. So if the wine really stinks, it still gets 50 points!
It was comfortable enough in the shade, but the shade was rapidly retreating. Fortunately, it's a dry heat. Not unlike a blowtorch.
My happy over-achiever psyche is gnashing because I really do want to know where I finished. I’m used to 90s and above, so this makes me crazy. But don’t get me wrong…I passed! I'm happy!
You may be thinking, "Irene you nitwit! You live in Las Vegas! What's the big deal?" The big deal is that just because I live here doesn’t mean that I actually *go* here. Like many locals, I have a certain snobbery when it comes to hanging at The Strip. So for two weeks, I went to Vegas! On The Strip, baby!
“It’s California,” I said to myself. “How hard could it be?” It was pretty damn challenging as it turned out. “This was a walk in the park,” said no CWAS student. Ever.
I know wine. I just have to have the pieces of papers (and pins) to prove to others that I do. Master level? Well, maybe. After all, while I'm at it...
While whether I'm actually nuts or not may be a topic of endless debate...
Yours truly isn't completely innocent of wine overspeak, by the way. I vaguely recall - in the pre website-getting-hacked days - describing a Pinotage as "pugilistic."
Jocularity aside, I was surprised at what I already knew, what I learned, and how I applied it in the final. I rock, frankly. And so I decided to celebrate.