If it were a basketball court, we’d be in the paint. We’re at Stone Rose, in the thick of the action, because Stone Rose is all men, and we’re definitely all women. I’m with my rosy ladies clicking glasses, linking arms, and being cheeky… ‘cause we’re good at cheeky. They’re out of Riesling, and their Sauvignon Blanc is from California. How drab. Options are weighed as we finger cokctail menus.

Big Apple Martinis remind me of skittles. You ate enough of them as a kid, and your saliva became a thick viscous string you released from your mouth until it nearly kissed the ground, then you’d suck it back in. Don’t lie. You did too. I’m a “fun with wine” or “whiskey why not” girl: Jack and Ginger (Jack Daniels with Ginger Ale).

Eyebrows have been raised when I mention the whiskey. Here’s the rub: whiskey is smokin’. Songs and smells have the ability to transport. I know the smell of camp (grass), middle school (glue), and sex (whiskey). One of my ex’s drank whiskey on the rocks, then we’d fcuk. I’m the salivating dog; whiskey is my bell.

Friends have come in and out of my life like busboys in a restaurant. The good ones, though, they’re always there. Time goes, but you know you can pickup and continue as if those years were mere moments. Jeff is my “no time at all.” He’s my knitting, my bicycle ride, and my smile. He’s everything that comes naturally, even if you think you’ve forgotten. He’s there, at Stone Rose, and I’m in bliss. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long, long time. Jeff has a liquid loving laugh that lights me up. Every. Single. Time. This photo of our hello makes me so happy (and no, we’re not making out. It’s called a hug with too much hair.) It’s better than whiskey, and on par with my girls.

View more photos from a night out with the girls >>
(then take a look at these)
Photos from “Fun with Wine” >>