Um. Do you have a bag in your car?

Last Friday, we went down to Akron for a brown bag wine party. I normally stray away from weekend updates these days (because nearly everyone is blogging like this, and who am I to be JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE?), but this was a really fun party idea for, well, someone my age.

Even if that “someone my age” pukes in her boyfriend’s car on the ride home.

One of those brown bags would have come in quite handy.

THIS IS LOVE, PEOPLE! Even if I blamed it on his driving.

Anyway, here was the premise:

Everyone brought a wine — your choice: cheap, expensive, unique, fruity, white, red, ice… whatever. You place your bottle inside a pre-numbered bag and receive a log sheet (ours ranged from taste, color, linger, and guessing of the varietal and location of the vineyard). Open the bottle with the attached rogar corkscrews, and place the masked bottle into an ice bucket (if white) or on the table (if red). Drink. Rate. Drunk.

The party was a good size, so we had 20 different bottles included in our blind tasting. I tried, maybe, ten (amidst my incessant talking about cats, moving, furniture and new residences with a cousin’s girlfriend) and found a few fantastic reds that I would definitely look to purchase or drink again.

And I still dislike whites.

Hangover. BAM. OMG, my hangover lasted forever the next day (and I was still barely 60% by the time Sunday morning practice rolled around). While the headache was dull, the heaving twisted my stomach much like the champion wine opener used in opening our bottles. Did I mention that we came home, played Dominos and sipped on some yummy rum(s) from St. Martin?

Mel likes. A lot.

This is what happens, grown-ups, when you decide to mix liquors!

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