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Friday, April 29, 2011
Spring Has Sprung & Love Is In The Air
A rare thing occurred yesterday morning. I woke feeling down-right excited about one of the only parts of my job that I truly loathe, the trade tasting. I've bitched about them here before so you all know how I feel about them and as odd as it sounds to many that have never had to endure them, it aint all free snacks and drinking fancy wines...least not to me. The LA wine trade event is pretty much an Asperger's convention; a parade of hipsters in skinny jeans, hot guys wearing over-sized Buddy Holly glasses....trying to down play their smashing good looks, that or going for the "wicked hot smart guy" persona. The old guys in graffiti T's or fedoras, also sporting the skinny jean, that or the ripped up baggy ones. The perfume encrusted, tight dress and super high heeled teetering around on their wine wobbly legs because, "Spitting is gross" and toss in the grumpy know-it-all wine curmudgeon, often in a stained shirt, not wearing a name tag and always grazing at the food table and you get one pissy wine slinger with crunched unders. Not the way I like to spend the afternoon and really not the way I can truly evaluate wine. Yesterday however, yesterday was different.
I met Randy at The Wine Country early so we could make our way up to Santa Monica for a tasting that neither of us would have missed, a tasting that has not happened in as long as I have been buying French wine for the store. When we pulled up to the venue my heart started thumping around in my chest, not only was I going to be sampling the wines from one of the world's most renowned French wine importers, poured by the winemakers themselves, I was going to be doing it there....on the breathtakingly beautiful shoreline in Santa Monica.
An elegantly, subtly furnished ballroom; tables swathed in creams and off-whites, set far apart from one another with ample room to move about and dodge the teetering non-spitters and curmudgeons with their cheese smeared wine glasses and Bordeaux stained grill....the sound and smell of the ocean faintly wafting in between stops at tables adorned with bottles of wines that make my knees weak, heart race, mind flash wildly with sensory dictation, the thickly accented voices filling me with that ache to revisit my beloved France and retell our customers about these wines, these estates, these humble but passionate people that make them. I may have woken excited but I could never have imagined just how perfect the day would be.
Randy and I had worked our way through the Champagne tables, rough as that was...when I heard Randy say, "Hey, is that Kermit?" turned my head to see, yes, yes it was Kermit Lynch. Without question one of the most important men in the wine business, one very responsible for the quality of French wines we have access to, paving the way with refrigerated containers ensuring that the wines he tasted and imported were delivered tasting the way they did when he had them in France. A man whose palate and passion brought those wines here and a man that can write, in one sentence, something so compelling that you ache to taste what he is tasting. It was his tasting and there he was, in the middle of this room of perfectness. It was, well even more perfect.
Randy had been Kermit's Southern California broker before starting The Wine Country, they have known and respected each other for years now and although I have met Kermit several times I still found myself a little star struck as we made our way over to him to say hello to him. Pleasantries and a bit of shop talk, we parted and Randy and I got back to tasting our way through the room only to find ourselves once again face to face with Kermit, this time at the Beaujolais table. Kermit pouring a deep glass and me with just enough Alsatian wine and Graves in my belly to say, "So Kermit, gotta tell you, saw you on Gary V, good thing you didn't have anything to say" which not only made him laugh but broke the ice. By the next time I ran into him and my adorable sales rep Kate tried to introduce us he stopped her, put his arm around me and told her, "We are already engaged." perfectness.....
The stunningly beautiful setting, the uncrunched aisles, the banter...that alone makes for a trade tasting far and above most but on top of all that, the wines were fucking brilliant! The Beaujolais from Jean Foillard both elegant and powerful proving that anyone that says Gamay is wimpy is an idiot. The Saint-Romain and Bourgogne Rouge from Christophe Buisson, so pure and loaded with vibrant fruit that, considering the price, makes me feel like we are taking advantage of him...which I will be doing when the wines arrive in May. Regis Bouvier's silky textured and explosive 2009 Morey-Saint-Denis filling my lungs with dark red fruit and smoked meat. The Loire wines from Domaine de la Chanteleuserie and Domaine de Reuilly causing my spine to shiver and flesh to be covered in tiny want inspired bumps.
I spent the afternoon waving my French Wine Freak Flag, wrapped up tight in the aromas and flavors, the people that make what I do, my job, one of the greatest there is. Cannot get over what an affirmation that trade tasting was....hipsters, high-heeled wobblers, table grazers and all. Cannot believe how fortunate I've been. And just when I thought the day couldn't get any better.....
Gifts, picked for me and tucked into my screen by the cutest almost 5 year old boyfriend a girl could ever have.
Finding myself splashing around in love again and damn, it feels amazing.
Posted by
Samantha Dugan
14 comments:
Wee Boyfriend
Thursday, April 28, 2011
First Batch of 2010 Roses. Or What It Would Look Like If I Wrote A "Wine Blog"
2009 was kind of a retailers dream vintage for French wines. The press went crazy for the riper fruit, bigger bodies and softer acids, in short the wines from much of France in 2009 were a little more suited to the California or new world palate. Not a problem, the wines are delicious but as I started tasting the 2010 Roses from France I was thrilled to find the wines a bit more typical. 2010 appears to be another ripe vintage, just not
as ripe
so the wines while brimming with bright and generous fruit are just a little more restrained in the weight department and the acidity is just a bit higher. Been loving the more noticeable minerality and almost crunchy snap from this vintage and cannot wait to keep tasting more!
2010 Chateau de Campuget Costieres de Nimes $9.99
This ultra crisp Rose is a blend of Syrah and Grenache, the Syrah giving the wine a nice depth and the Grenache providing lots of spicy, juicy fruit. Light and racy on the palate with a clean and refreshing finish.
2010 Moulin de Gassac Guilhem Vin de Pays de l'Herault $9.99
One of the first of the Roses to arrive and the first three cases we ordered flew out the door. Fans of last year's offering will delight in finding that the 2010 is packed with just as much lovely flavor; all that racy fruit and mineral that we adored about the 2009 but the 2010 is just a little lighter in weight and has just a bit more snap.
2010 Domaine de Fontsainte Corbieres Gris de Gris $11.99
One of the best vintages is recent memory for this tried and true estate. Vibrant berry flavors, amazing precision and leaves your palate vibrating with zingy acidity.
2010 Andrieux & Fils Cuvee Victoria Cotes de Provence $13.99
One of the deeper and more meaty of this year's Roses so far. Dark red fruit, hints of banana, nice and full on the palate, almost round but not too. A go to wine for grilled steaks or strongly seasoned chicken dishes.
2010 Domaine Figueirasse Vin des Sables Gris de Gris $11.99
Something slightly grassy in the nose, grassy and reminiscent of watermelon rind. The palate is ripe berries and faint chalky minerality. Round and fleshy but crisp and dry on the lip smacking finish.
2010 Saint Roche Cotes du Provence $12.99
Not sure if you feel like a red or a white? Unable to decide if you want red or more green notes? Well we've got the wine for you. Gentle and herby on the nose with a soft powdery like floral note. The palate is crisp, bright, raging with tangy fruit and the finish is super clean.
2010 Le Cengle Cotes de Provence $12.99
Brand new to The Wine Country this charming wine has already stolen hearts around here. Very tropical aromatics, guava, wild flowers, herbs with a splash of zingy citrus. Explosive on the palate the wine pretty much grabs hold of your taste buds and refuses to let go. A show stopping Rose that we could not be more thrilled to add to our extensive collection.
Happy Now?!
Got two emails this morning, one from my son that flooded my heart with joy, (he's doing so well, last final on Friday, preforming in plays which he seems to love and got associate of the month at work...so proud) and the other was in the email for this blog.
Started out nice enough, the person seemed to be concerned that I had been having a rough time the past couple months and then the letter took a turn.
"You know people don't read wine blogs to listen to the blogger complain about their life and it is very annoying when that blogger happens to be in the wine business. Tough job. I think you would be better served to just stick to writing about wine on your wine blog because that's what we come here for"......
Really? Well then, don't come here. Hate to sound like a bitch, okay that's a lie, doesn't bother me one bit. This is MY blog and can and will write about whatever I wish. I do write about wine, not as often or the same way as the hundreds or thousands, how many are there now.....of others and you know what, I fucking dig it that way.
Above is part of what I sent for the May newsletter for The Wine Country. It's what I do all the time and while I still love it, it is not what I wish to come here and write. After a day of my "Tough job" I rather like having a place to come and just talk, if you don't like it then might I recommend you bugger off? And I would pair any one of the aforementioned Roses, they are perfect with buggering, and for a musical selection, Ray Charles,
Hit the Road Jack
Posted by
Samantha Dugan
14 comments:
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Getting Better
I would like to take a quick second to thank all of you that have been contacting me; the emails, letters, cards and facebook stuff. Your overwhelming support and concern has touched me on a level that now has me feeling a little ashamed for being so glum. How can anyone be so down with all this love and support? Well, sadly life does throw some wild crap your way and this one has been of those times for me. I felt bad about dumping it all here, or the aftermath of it anyway but I have always been honest in this space. Come here to share my loves, lusts, wants, my life and real life, well it isn't always easy and it helps me to say these things out loud. That and I can't help but think about the others that find themselves in these helpless and painful moments in life, those times when you are sure that no one can possibly understand….wanted to nakedly assure them, I do, we all do….I just so happen to be the queen of never-keeping-stuff-to-myself and so I share, sometimes at the detriment of my readership. Oh my gawsh, I just said, "My readership"…sheesh. Full of myself much?! Could I feel like more of a dick?
I've been vague in my posts and I will continue to be that way. My life I will share and give but not everyone else's and when it comes to broken hearts, there will almost always be more than one involved. Old ghosts, humiliation, confusion and the loss of hope, life and love have been weighing heavy on me and sadly, for those of you that bother to read my trivial crap, you too have had to endure it on some level. I'm sorry for that. Truly. Things are beginning to settle, slow down enough for me to catch my breath and seeing that I am sick to death of feeling so goddamn depleted, well I'm getting my RAWR back….
I woke Sunday morning feeling a little fuzzy from my night of over indulgence. Not hungover per se, but not so fresh if you know what I'm saying. Made my sluggish shuffle to the coffeepot annoyed as shit that I was up before the set brewing time and wondering how I managed to get both the top and bottoms of my jammies on backwards. Hit the "go" button and grumpily made my way to my true lover, my laptop. Opened my email only to be reminded that whatever I had been trying to kill with booze the night before wasn't fixed. Felt that empty sink in the pit of my angrily hollow tummy. Yup, things were just how I left them….crud. Slouched back on the couch in what has to be one of the most unflattering poses I have ever put myself in, any fuzzy headed notions I had about feeling better were quickly squished by looking down at the tag of my backward jammie bottoms resting upon the tummy that could use a few more days, okay weeks, sans filler….and looking at my nearly forty year old breasts as they tried to slumber beneath my freaking armpits. Oh goddamn it. This clearly wasn't helping….
I tried to gather my boobs first and let me tell you, trying to "arrange" a pair of forty year old double d's, real ones….well it's akin to trying to herd pudding, handfuls of goo that don't want to listen. Sigh. Heard the coffee grumbling, louder than I was if you can believe that crap and made my way to the restroom to give the jammies a spin before opening the windows and heading into the kitchen for that coffee. Settled back into my perch, this time my back straight and arms tucked in trying to contain the…puddings, one more glance at the heart-sinkingly empty email box before reaching for the remote.
My thumb just a quarter of a second from hitting the next "go" button and I heard a high pitched squeal. Turned my head, peered out the window, no wounded cat or bird flapping about in front of my window, went back to mush my mind with television and again, right before hitting the button I heard another squeal, this time followed by gibberish and then, "I found the most!"….the wee's next door discovering all the eggs, candy and gifts left by the Easter Bunny. I didn't need to see them, hearing the astoundingly loud voices; from those tiny people….their sheer joy and excitement, uncontrollable energy, well it made my heart swell. Dropped the remote, cupped my hands around my warm coffee cup, took in deep sniffs of the magic elixir, remembered how much fun I had hiding eggs for Jeremy, the intensity with which that little bugger would hunt them down, the moment when the money filled eggs replaced the dyed "dropped by the bunny" ones. Thinking of him alone this Easter but alone writing the last of his fifteen page papers before graduating. Some sadness but mostly joy, amazement and pride. Better…getting better.
Lounged around the rest of the morning, finding bits of understanding and wisdom in rhythm and lyrics, the crooned and lilted voices mirroring many of the things I've been feeling…not alone indeed. Each beautifully strung together line landing upon my exposed heart, "Does anyone know how to hold my heart cuzz I don't want to let go, let go, let go"…. "I've seen fire and I've seen rain"….. "She gives me love, love, love, crazy love"…. "you and I together we could anything, anything" little bandages of comprehension, voices so sympathetic and powerfully resounding that aside from wondering when the hell Dave Matthews (Google alert goddamn it!) is going to finally realize that we are madly in love, made me remember that nothing I'm feeling right now has not been felt by hundreds of thousands before me and if the worst I have to endure is waiting for the other side of someday, well than I am actually better off than many. Better…getting better.
Readied myself for dinner at the in-laws, holiday meals always remind me of my childhood; the things my mother cooked, the smells, the perfect combination of scalloped potatoes, ham and peas balanced on my fork , the squish of rubbery cream-o-mushroom soup mushrooms between my teeth. In my better but still pouty state I thought of nothing on the drive over but the fact that this was to be one more family holiday, without any real part of me and my family there. Lamb instead of ham, no cream-o-soup potatoes, no Dugans aside from me. Tossed a grin on my grill and my loaded wine bag over my shoulder before walking through the laundry room which leads into the kitchen.
The house was still, no television, no, "There they are" voices coming from the living room, just a starkly silent kitchen full of a aroma that made me feel like I was eight years old, legs crossed in one of the kitchen chairs watching my mother set the table….roast pork. The subtle but knee weakening smell of roast pork stopped me in my tracks and much like the succulent fat on that roast, I was melting. One of my mother's most beloved dishes, one that she did better than anyone, perfectly tender, subtly seasoned, thick slab of mahogany skin that she would thump with a serving fork to show me just how "almost ready" dinner was.
I was speechless, just stood there, eyes closed, taking in as much of this familial aroma as I could. Opened my eyes when I heard, "Oh hi you two. I thought you were dad" my mother in-law. When her very animated face came into focus I almost lost it. For seventeen years this woman has been a mother to me, she is my family and here I was in an aromatic bringing of both worlds together in a way that made sense to me, one from the oven and a woman that made it for me. Thank gawd neither of us are huggers, would have grabbed her little frame right up…you know, if I were so inclined and probably would have been sobbing.
"So let's get to that Champagne!!" she bellowed. She does that, used to scare the shit out of me coming from the soft spoken home that I did. Her big New England voice, matter of fact manner of speech, exaggerated gestures and stealthy prison reach for any bit of food or bottle she has her eye on. What was once fear was long ago replaced with a certain admiration for her spunky nature and willingness to pop off to anyone, dig that about her and in that kitchen, at that moment, those smells swirling around my head and heart, my hand twisting the cork on a bottle of Agrapart Terroirs, well I loved her more than I even thought possible. Better…getting better.
She and I had damn near killed the bottle of bubbles before my father in-law got back from the driving range, thankfully my bag was well stocked and my partner in killing bottles, (that would be the father in-law) and I still had plenty for later. Kisses on my face, big smile and electric blue eyes, he jumped right into the already started party, the two of them and their banter….death wishes and love, cracking me up. My parents, Jeremy's grandparents…not ours through birth or blood but by choice and love. Better….getting better.
I scooped broccoli salad, mushrooms (one of these days I will get that woman to tell me how she is able to coax the simple mushroom into absolute perfection) a popover and not one but three slabs of pork…making sure to snag at least one piece of the crunchy, caramelized end bit…before the prison reacher could, on to my plate. Poured the father in-law and I a couple glasses of Vajra Docetto D'Alba and before I knew it, I was eating….like a lot. Tender, subtle but, in more ways than one, powerful pieces of pork being washed down with pure, clean and perfect Dolcetto, the rich porky flavor of my past mixed with the bright, vibrant and earthy flavors of my now. Better….getting better.
I've been fed
In more ways than one…
Not quite full just yet but
Getting better
Posted by
Samantha Dugan
17 comments:
Sunday, April 24, 2011
How It Feels
To be a Lakers fan on Easter Sunday...
Posted by
Samantha Dugan
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Getting It On
So as I mentioned a post or two ago things have been pretty shitty round this goofy chick's life as of late. Not just that, "I'm bored" or "Someone at work doesn't like me" kind of shitty. No we are talking the kind of steaming pile that makes even the tiniest task seem gargantuan, completely overwhelming and absolutely undoable. Work keeps me plugging along, the being there for the store and anyone else that might need me, well that I can manage but by the time I reach my doorstep I have dumped the store grin and clever quips, my steps seem to echo the way I feel, hollow and clunky, and I feel like I have gained about 400 pounds….all on my shoulders and around my heart.
Even my beloved eating has become too much of a burden. Nothing looks good, nothing sounds good… nothing even tastes good and the very idea of like putting a menu together…yeah, so not happening. Fuck, if I could just figure out what is I want maybe that would be a step in the right direction but after a rather stoner-like shopping for food moment, at the goddamn CVS, (I needed moisturizer and mascara and was not up to another trip) looking at my basket of crap; Velveeta Shells & Cheese, (and this is where I should confess, I don't much care for Mac & Cheese, especially of the boxed variety, why it was in my basket I cannot tell you) Ruffles Cheddar & Sour Cream chips and a package of off brand boiled ham resting upon my overpriced "new" moisturizer…that will likely inflame my sensitive skin, and I could see that my two days without food had clearly made me stupid, that or was turning me into a teenage boy. Rad.
Got home and immediately stashed the boxed cheesy-goo noodles behind my husband's cereal boxes, he's out of town and will never notice, and tried to assemble something resembling a charcuterie plate with my "fromage encrusted potato slivers", "rustic cured..um, boar" and leftover bits of cheese I had languishing away in my meat drawer. Flat, slimy, weirdly textured slabs of slippery meat, recently shaved of their hair growth bits of cheese on a plate with oddly orange, very coated with fake ass flavoring, chips. Needed something. Pretzels! Of course, pretzels were going to be the dazzle this dish needed to inspire me to eat. I stood in my kitchen, bag of bendy bread bits in my hand tossing them atop the saddest plate of food I have ever seen. Inspiring for sure. Inspired me to scrunch up my face, drop my last handful of dazzle atop the rag-tag bits of drug store food, place one hand on top of the other like a big X before administering the compression that would end that poor dinner's life. Gross and not a chance in hell that whatever I needed to be "fed" was going to be helped by that meal.
Dinner plans dashed I opted for beautification, (shut up) washed my day caked mug and stood in the kitchen….cuzz that was where I left my CVS dinner bags, shaving-the-hair-off-the-cheese knife in my hand as I slashed and stabbed away at the fucking Fort Knox like packaging of, "this will make me feel better about myself" Youth Code moisturizer kit. Tiny tubes of fragrant cream and a packet, no, a book of instructions on how to look younger and feel better….fuck you. I blew off the instructions and slathered two of the tubes on my face, avoiding the "sensitive eye area"….which is where the fucking wrinkles kinda are…in a combination that I'm quite sure will either cause me to sprout a penis from my forehead, (kinda thankful I avoided the sensitive eye area now) or grow an extra set of meaty, earlobe like packets of flesh on my jaw line that will flap in the wind on my drive to work. Hot. I feel really fucking hot and better about myself now…
The night before Easter, everyone off doing their planning, traveling, prepping…hiding eggs, damn I miss that, and here I sit, in my sweats, smuggled boxes of food…"food" tucked behind the husband's bran, four invitations to hit the town or come over for dinner somewhat…I hope, graciously declined, awaiting the tingle that is sure to be my forehead penis. Pretty sure I have been doing some shit wrong…so how's about a drink?!
I confess that in my slump I have been avoiding all pleasure inducing liquids. Not sure why other than the gnawing in my belly assuring me that it's not the best plan and…well, being raised in a family full of, "You shouldn't. It might look bad" in my ear, often loudly at times like these, but tonight, much like the Youth Code instruction book I have to say, fuck you. Gonna get my sad girl drink on and I give two shits who doesn't like it. Stupid and indulgent? Hells yeah and I'm here to tell you, after the month I have had this stoopidly improper and irresponsible night of drunkard is exactly what I need.
Not fancy or sophisticated
Not for the texture or history
This bottle of 2010 Le Cengle Cotes de Provence Rose and all its curvy, sumptuous, tropical…unlike Provencal like lusciousness, well it is seducing the hell out of me right now. Making feel the tips of my fingers, the cushy fabric of the socks that hug my toes, the reminder that no matter how hellish and heart stomping things might be there is always wine. I am rolling around naked in the plushy fruit and wickedness that comes from knowing that once this bottle is drained….I have another to splash around in. Can't prepare a meal to feed my needs but I can sure as shit stock my fridge with that which satiates my soul. My 400 pound heart, and my desire to get lost beneath the moon with a glass of it in my hand…
In wine there is truth and the truth is, I just want to make the ugly, sad, mistake heavy mourning stop long enough to feel human again. The giggle I am finding as I reach the last little puddle of wine in my glass assuring me that those historic voices of caution could not know just how therapeutic this particular feeling is...
Will alert you of penile or meat flap growths and…hangovers.
Happy Easter to you all
Posted by
Samantha Dugan
6 comments:
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Um, Yuck....
Yeah, pour me a glass of whatever he's having.....
Orin Swift, hugely popular wines that I just don't dig and the packaging?!
Prisoner & Machete and now this? What's next Booger Eater & Camel Toe?
Ugh...I'm out.
Posted by
Samantha Dugan
5 comments:
Thursday, April 21, 2011
To The Rescue
"Around 7-ish, you think you can?"
An email I got yesterday evening before leaving work. I knew I "could" but was worried that I might not be in the best mindset for it. Been in the middle of some seriously painful stuff the past few weeks and all my treading water and reminding myself that, "this too shall pass" has worn me out, left me deflated and last night....like I didn't care if I did sink. Heartbroken. Just feels like I've been hit with one thing after another and just when I feel like I'm coming up for air....hit again. Tired, last night I felt so damn tired. Not tired as in I worked too hard and by body was worn out, no this is a soul and spirit crushing kind of tired that makes even feeling too much to bear.
Hate that. Hate feeling like I can't fight my way through anything. I know I will, it's not fear that has been weighing heavy on me, just kinda wishing that whoever is in control of these things would ease up on me a bit...just long enough for me to get my sea legs and feel strong enough to take on the next wave. Yeah, so it aint all Champagne and Burgundy for this wine slinger right now, last night wasn't even Pabst and Rombauer Chardonnay but, well someone needed me and something about that gave me a little blast of "Yes. Yes I can"
To the rescue....
My wee boyfriend and his wee-er brother. I was needed to babysit, something I have not really done in some 20 years and was a bit nervous about....poop, there could be poop and crying, gross. I didn't feel like I was up to it, like I had enough "grin and bear it" but....turns out spending the night playing with trains, stuffed dogs and watching a 2 year old dance to the same song, over and over again, well it goes a long way in helping to fill a recently emptied heart.
So while not completely recovered I am
getting by with a little help from my friends
Just saw this before leaving for work this morning, another friend and much needed lovins'. Thanks Charlie.
Posted by
Samantha Dugan
5 comments:
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
At It Again
Okay so as many of you know I canceled my ten year subscription to the wildly popular publication Food & Wine last year. I did so for their complete lack of interest and respect to people that actually care enough about wine…you know that beverage that they splash on the cover of their magazine, to seek out actual information or at the very least pairings that are not squeezed through the tube of ad dollars and presented to the public ala a Lancome makeover for Wilbur. I had been smelling their fertilizer for a long time, big poo smeared pages of useless and horribly constructed wine advice that read like nails on a chalk board to those of us that are in the trenches, like selling wine to real people.
It was laziness that kept me from killing the subscription before, my credit card just renewed the damn thing every year and when the stupid thing showed up in the mail every month I would grumble, "Dammit! I need to call them". On the rare occasion that I even opened an issue I would find myself lost in pages and pages of ads, many of which cleverly camouflaged as actual articles, before I would land on yet another dung filled piece of wine writing that made me cringe and bark, "What the fuck are you talking about?!". Took their November issue last year to push me completely over the edge, I finally contacted them and made the idiocy stop. Took a bit of hoop jumping to remove that leech from my credit card but after sending a link of my somewhat pissy blog post to both the complaint department and the editor I was credited the remainder of my subscription and the plastic wrapped pile of steaming stupidity stopped showing up in my mailbox. I was free of them, or so I thought….
The other afternoon I was stocking my Champagne shelves when a very regular customer approached me. He has been coming in for years, mostly when he and his gourmet group have one of their get-togethers and he wants me to pair a wine to the dish he has been given to prepare. I happen to love this part of my job and it appears to be one of those things that I have a bit of a knack for. I am a total geek about these things, probably think about it way too much but I absolutely adore tweaking my flavor memories around ingredients and walking the isles at the shop until I land on a wine that I "just know" will pair beautifully with something. Yeah, like I said, total geek. So I am always thrilled to see this cat coming at me with his folded pieces of photocopied recipes.
Our usual "how are you?" exchange out of the way and I looked at his paper saying, "Okay kid, what have we got?" and was a bit bummed to hear, "Oh I need a Riesling". It wasn't the Riesling part, honestly many of the wines I have paired with his "foodie" groups, somewhat trying dishes have in fact been Rieslings. No, it was the fact that I didn't get to play match-maker and that he didn't seem to need a recommendation from me. Seeing that he knew he needed a Riesling I went to the best guy for the job….Randy. That man knows his German section far better than I do and I wanted to make sure that we continued serving this loyal customer to the very best of our abilities….you know, so he keeps coming to us when he needs wine pairings and junk.
Randy had been helping him for only a few seconds before I heard a bit of a grumble coming from the German department. I had been heading there to see just what Riesling Randy might give him but started moving a little quicker when I heard the rumblings. Got there just in time to hear, "Who are these people?" as Randy looked over the photocopied pages before he looked at me with a slightly annoyed grin, "Of course. Food & Wine".
The recipe was for poached pears and the Riesling the gentleman needed was not for pairing with the dish but for the poaching liquid and just what does this craptastic rag recommend for the task? Icewine. Not just an Icewine but a German or Canadian Icewine, 750 ML bottle to boot. Um, practical much? For those of you that aren't quite sure what I'm talking about here, German and Canadian Icewines are very sweet, very labor intensive and somewhat rare wines that are not only almost always bottled in 375 ML bottles, they tend to start out at around $50.00, some German versions upwards of $200.00. Recommending that a person spend over $100.00 to cook….cook a precious bottle, oh wait, two precious bottles into a sauce is the height of douchbaggery and so off the mark with regards to respecting your readers oh and let's not forget WINE….assholes.
We sent our customer on his way with a bottle of Domaine Piquemal Muscat Rivesault, a full bottle for $18.00 to poach his pears in, along with a lesson about complexity and nuance. The very idea that a wine focused publication would instruct their customers, (and that is what they are) to cough up the money for a world class wine and then tell them to dump vanilla pods, cinnamon and whatever else in it….and then cook it?! Well that right there is a gigantic FAIL and only perpetuates the idea that wine is for the uber sophisticates, "Mmmm yeess, I only poach my pears in Icewine" (helps to imagine a nasal heavy voice here) and people that have money to burn. Yeah, that's gonna help…
Way to help Vodka sales….dickwads.
I still hate you
Hugs and Kisses
Posted by
Samantha Dugan
20 comments:
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Happy Birthday To You....
"I think it's been about four years now" I replied recently when someone inquired about how long I had been blogging. Kind of shocked myself and began to wonder when (I knew how, Nancy Deprez made me do it....blame her!) I started this silly hunk of babble....it was April 14th 2008.
My beloved space to rant, share my love of wine, my passion for France, my education on the wines of the world. The place that I get to be me, like really me, and have people like me anyway. The place that brought people into my life that I know now I cannot imagine living without. This space is four years old today and I wanted to wish it a very Happy Birthday. Tell it that I appreciate all the late nights it was there for me, listened to me whine or moan about this and that, was there for me to pour my heart into and never once passed judgment or was too busy to hear me. This place is like a dear friend to me and I am eternally grateful...
Thank you all for letting me do this, for supporting me, reading my silly crap and for helping me find a voice, my voice. I'm humbled every single day that you come here to see what I'm up to and feel things with me. I feel more loved than I did four years ago and I know it is because of Samantha Sans Dosage.
Four years, shit maybe I should go out and get me one of those "Life" things everyone is talking about.....
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Samantha Dugan
25 comments:
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Asking For Help
"How could they do that?!" my panicked voice bellowing at my mother who was seated on the couch behind me. We were watching a made for TV movie about Theresa Saldana, a woman that was stalked and then attacked, in the street while people looked out their windows and did nothing to stop it. "People don't want to get involved baby" my mother's voice, soothing and oozing pride that her little girl would be so outraged by such acts of apathetic human behavior. My eyes welled up with tears and I felt a pulling in my chest, "I could never do that. How could anyone do that?" my heart sinking as I watched that poor woman struggle alone with a monster on the street while people closed their curtains, turned a blind eye and locked their doors fearful of both the monster and getting involved.
Walked into my home, me casa, the other evening, the slipping of my key in the lock a jarring reminder that I was on my own for the next day or two. I've gotten much better at this being alone business, better at feeling safe and secure in the house full of my aromas and the days worth of untouched dust that seems almost accusatory as I swagger in trying my best to act as if the silence isn't screaming at me. No sweet faced man there to greet me as I walk through the door. Just untouched newspapers, the empty coffee cup still on the desk, windows closed up tight, the dank encasement of cacophonous aromatics that remind me that I'm not the housekeeper that I ought to be.
I move through evenings like this with stealth like precision, swiping up cups, running the bottom of my work shirt along the dusty surfaces, opening windows, pouring myself a glass of wine, the television and my laptop welcomed distractions keeping me from spending too much time in my own head, remembering when alone was the scariest place to be. Looking across the little patch of grass that separates me casa from my neighbor's, seeing their lights on, the knowing that as long as they are in there someone is looking out for me, a feeling that keeps me from locking my door and windows as soon as the sun sets. A feeling they don't even really know but one that lets me fall asleep, like really asleep which is a true gift and assures me once again that I am, if fact a very lucky woman.
"You stupid bitch!" a voice that was capable of turning my insides icy cold and made my heart thump so loud that I would swear it was at the top of my throat trying to leap from my chest in fear. I was walking out of the Dana Branch Library, my tiny son in his stroller drifting off to sleep, the mid afternoon sun blinding me for a second as my head swung around to see from which side the monster, my monster's voice was coming from. The street was packed with cars, a group of people milled about in front of the restaurant across the street as they waited for a seat, the stream of cars and busses went mute and the whole street went black as my eyes fell upon the figure that was climbing from his red car, his face tight and eyes wild with rage, his rough hands wrapped around an aluminum bat as he slammed the driver's side door and came charging in my direction.
I let my eyes drop to the stroller, past the bar that I had a death grip on and into the blanket filled carriage that held all my hope and belief in myself, his tiny fingers curled under, his eyes closed and soft little eyebrows scrunched as the sun threatened to disrupt his slumber. In one move I was able to pull one of the Winnie the Pooh blankets over his resting head, turn that safe little cradle around and slip it just inside the library doors turning around just in time to feel the first slam of that bat across the side of my face….
I couldn't tell you how long this went on, how many times that hollow, cold rod made contact with my flesh, how many times I screamed or cried for help, how long I kept my forearms crossed over my head. It felt like forever and the only weapon I had was to keep my eyes on that library door, see that stroller and know that I had to keep fighting…for him. Didn't hear another sound until the car door slammed again and he was gone. I was on my knees, face split open and bleeding, broken bits of tooth swimming around in my blood filled mouth but….it wasn't pain I felt in that second, it was helplessness and embarrassment. Not one person on that busy street did anything to help me as I got to my feet and ran to my son's stroller. No one even asked if I was okay, maybe because they could see that clearly I was not. I made my way to the Carl's Jr. across the street to wash my face and spend half an hour locked in a stall holding my sleeping son, wondering just how much more of this I could take part of me hoping that some of the people that had seen what happened had gone. The shame and fear almost more painful than the blows from that bat.
I waited hours to go home that day. Just didn't want to cause my family any more pain than I already had, spent years covering bruises and lying to avoid breaking their hearts as I fought to keep going and pretend everything was fine. The thing that kept me pushing and trying was their love and support, the knowing they would be there should things get too much to bear, my heart always sinking as I thought about the women that didn't have that support and love to protect them. Even in the darkest and most terrifying times I knew I would be able to go home and feel safe again, for that I know just how very lucky I was.
Tonight at The Wine Country we are hosting a fundraiser for Su Casa, a foundation committed to ending domestic violence and helping the women and children that escape start over. To say that this particular event means something to me is an embarrassment of an understatement. These people risk their lives to protect others, give their time, money and hearts to the families that turn to them for help and just knowing that gives me a restored hope and faith in people. There are monsters, there are people that will lock their front doors and cross the street when confronted with horrific acts of predatory violence, these people….they aren't them. I am so proud of our store, of our owner Randy Kemner for continuing to support these selfless and committed people by donating our space, time and wine so that these fearless humans can raise the money they need to continue giving these families the help, support and hope that they need.
To the courageous people at Su Casa there are no words large or powerful enough to truly or properly thank you for what you do. I will gladly donate what I can and just knowing that there are people like you and your team of volunteers out there, well it reminds me that I have nothing to be ashamed of. Reminds me to never give up hope in the human spirit and my belief in people. Your selfless acts shall never go unnoticed as long as there are those of us that can walk a little prouder because of people like you. Thank you….
It is truly an honor to be a member of Randy Kemner's staff, to work for a man that would never turn a blind eye or close the curtain on someone in need of help. This event is just one more thing for me to love about him. Thank you Randy.
This cause is one that I hold dear to my heart, that I believe in and really does change lives. My scars are all healed, teeth repaired and I can now sleep soundly even when I am alone. I was one of the lucky ones, I'm happy, healthy and safe….ready to put my voice and story up for all to see, willing to put my money where my mouth is to ensure that even one more woman can turn the key on her front door and feel safe when she steps inside.
Thank you
Samantha Dugan
Survivor of domestic abuse
Wine slinger
Hopeful believer....
Posted by
Samantha Dugan
8 comments:
Thursday, April 7, 2011
The Power Of Print
"Yeah, you guys got Champagne in there?" a rather brash and curt voice on the other end of the phone. "Yes we have Champagne" I answered. "Okay I'm looking for a French Champagne" insert my heavy sigh and crunched, "redundancy" brow here. "It's called Boo Pecoche" the voice responded between insufferable snaps of her gum.
I sat there for a second literally hearing my eyelashes slam together as I ran through my mental list of Champagnes. "Snap-snap-snap" like little nails being shoved in my eardrums as I said the given name over and over again in my head trying to figure out what she was looking for. Boo Pecoche, (pronounced Boo Pea-Co-Shh) Boo Pecoche?! "Oh! Might you be looking for Veuve Clicquot?" I asked feeling kinda puffed up for figuring that one out. "Um, NO!" she snapped, she not her gum wad this time, "I told you the name is Boo Pecoche! Gawsh!" Now I was no longer puffy chested, now I was getting red faced and a little pissy my own self but I gave it one more shot. "Does the Champagne you're looking for have an orange label?" I asked somewhat hesitantly. "I don't know!" she barked, "I've never seen it! Either you have it or you don't! Maybe you should ask someone there that knows something about Champagne….the French kind!!" spittle, I swear I could feel and smell her gum scented spittle as she snarled at me.
"Nope. Don't have it but good luck with your search"…..grumble.
"Ungst-ungst-ungst" the thumping of techno music blaring through the front door of The Wine Country. I was stopped in my tracks by the level of the volume and moved a little closer to the front to see where the offensive blare was coming from. That was when I saw him. Silver convertible, slicked back Pat Riley type hairdo, sports coat over a vest and white button up, sockless feet stuffed into loafers, cell phone fused to his face and, now this part stuck my as funny as hell, a giant, white standard poodle sitting in the front seat of the car. The guy was mid to late sixties if he was a day and he was desperately trying to bring back the Don Johnson ala Miami Vice look. I let myself soak it in before getting back to helping customers on the floor
I was back in my French department when I was jarred from my tasks once again by volume but this time it wasn't my ears that were alarmed, it was my nostrils. Mr. Miami had completed his oh-so-urgent call and was now in the shop, the other side from where I was mind you, his voice bellowing requests of the staff was no competition for the noise that was wafting off of him. He was positively swimming in the most wretched, cheaply sweet smelling….can't even call it cologne, it was just stank. His smelly junk vice was spreading across the store like mushroom cloud causing people to stop and make bug eyed face, saw a woman make a beeline for the register and I stood there feeling like my nose hairs were trying to reach down and pull in my nostrils like shudders. The whole time I'm thinking, "Dude. You drove here in a convertible and you still smell like that?!" shivering when imagining how saturated he must have been before the wind whipped some of the stink layer off.
I tried to just plug along but the sheer volume of his stank was now causing me to not only taste the sickly sweet crap in my mouth, it was inspiring a pain right between my eyebrows that was beginning to spread around my head like a….well like a vice. I kept as far away as I could, on top of the cloud he was also very demanding, asked for "free" glasses of wine and stood at the register after his sale was complete, munching on a baguette that he had purchased while speaking loudly on the phone. Once he left and the counter was brushed clean of his crumbs a woman walked up and while plunking her bottles on the counter she gave me, "Oh My Gawd" face and simply said, "That was awful" she didn't know the half of it. The guy came back in three more times! Once for another "free" glass of wine, once because he needed a "cheap Cabernet" and the third, well I couldn't tell you because when I saw him turn on his loafers and head back in I took one look at my coworker and said, "I'll be out back" when asked why all I could do was nod my head towards the front door and say, "The Perfumigator"…Ewe.
As much as those two bugged there was one more. One more exchange that went beyond annoying for me, it sent me into a rant that I am still trying to recover from.
"Do you do beginning wine classes there?" Now normally I love this question, makes me light up to hear someone wants to begin learning about my beloved elixir, it was what followed that delivered a swift kick to my gut…..
"I'm a food and wine writer and I thought I better start learning about wine" she said with a chuckle. I felt my shoulders slumping as the comment was akin to poking me with a big pin, absolutely deflating. After giving her a list of our upcoming classes and hearing, "Oh I better start with a beginning class. I drink wine but know nothing about it" again through chuckles, I started thinking about all the times I had some poor consumer come in, thrusting some glossy magazine or newspaper clipping in my face and taking that printed word as an ultimate authoritative voice. I kind of get that, I guess, the thought being that if they are paid to write about wine they must specialists but…..I wonder, how many are, like the woman that called, a paid writer and wine just so happens to be the beat they are given and they handle the topic as they would with any other? Research is one thing but having real talent when it comes to wine, well that is another and reading crap that other "writers" wrote does not a specialist make….need I remind you about the crank yankers at Food & Wine magazine?!
So you have some editor hire a decent, (sometimes) writer to write about a topic that they have no knowledge or passion for and in the end you often end up with three things; a flaccid bit of puff article like perfume and wine pairings, another dull piece about the Argentine Malbec and worst of all, the end consumer either bored or more confused after sampling through, "Suggested Wines for Vegetable Pairings. Beets are perfect with Cabernet Franc as they have very earthy qualities" an actual pairing I saw in a magazine….dude, gross but consumers are heavily swayed when it comes to the printed word so they try it, even questioning their own palate because of it and in the end that does nothing, absolutely nothing to inspire more wine drinkers.
Two examples. We had a woman come in last week that sampled a wine on the bar, a Gunderloch Diva Riesling that she loved and asked us to help her find. We took her over and there rested upon the stack of wine was one of little pink signs that lets people know the sweetness level of our German Rieslings, said "Slightly Sweet". "Oh I don't like sweet wines" she protested, face all aghast and flustered. "It's slightly sweet, just faintly" we told her and pointed out that it was in fact the same wine she had enjoyed on the bar. Didn't matter, she saw those words, in print and now she no longer liked or wanted the wine. Crazy. Another is goddamn Zinfandel and barbeque! Ugh this is a constant nightmare for me during the summer.
Now everyone that reads me knows that I loathe Zinfandel, just something about the flavors that do not set well on my palate. Goes beyond alcohol levels and acidity for me, it's a taste thing. That being said I will always, always sell people Zinfandel when they want one or love it. The only time I will tussle with a customer is when they come in with some Zin & BBQ article looking for me to pick the best Zinfandel for their grilled meal and I ask a few more questions only to find they are doing something like chicken or pork marinated in citrus or vinegar….that they are then going to grill. ACK! Gag shiver. Big difference between ribs slathered with a heavy tomato and brown sugar based sauce and like pulled pork with mustard and cider vinegar but that damn article clutched in their hands makes my job, and goal twice as hard and that right there, well it pisses me off!
Enjoy that plate of pickled beets and Chinon if you wish but when your palate gets all muddy maybe consider hitting up a retailer who can ask a few more questions and find you something, due to their years of tasting and reliance on your happiness, that will be far better suited to the dish, and YOU. We may not all be writers, in fact many of us are not but we aren't just selling copy. A good retailer is passionate and absolutely vested in making sure that you have the best wine experience possible. We need you to in order to fill our geeky little hearts and to be able to continue doing what it is we love, turning people on to this vastly diverse and truly beautiful beverage that has the ability to seduce, astound, elevate your meal and soothe your soul. We are not paid to write about wine, we are compelled to do so.
There. Okay, I feel better.
Please Print……
Posted by
Samantha Dugan
16 comments:
Friday, April 1, 2011
Freaking Issues
So first there was newsletter deadline, (saw the final issue last night, should be a very entertaining issue for those of you that get it) of which I was late for...my fault. Just can't seem to kick my own ass into gear and amass articles and tasting notes throughout the month, always do it the day or two before it's due....and a day or two after, almost always on my days off as I simply cannot ignore what's going on in the store long enough to put together an article, not even a little
blurb really. One person walks through that door and my thought process has shifted from writing to customer service. A good thing I suppose, just not good for writing or enjoying my days off around deadline time.
Newsletter stuff completed so good, I can start thinking about and writing a blog post, maybe even about wine this time and....BLAMO, inventory. Head is all about counting and worrying, not the best place for blog pieces I assure you. But I tried...
Last night, after counting bottles and assorted food items I decided to cheat and re-post an old piece I loved but got very little by way of comments. I was hoping that was because people just missed it, (the alternative being that it was fucking lame) so I thought I would sneak it in and try and give people something new, or new to them, to read. Copy and paste and.....issues!
Same damn thing happened to my last post, when I paste a piece from Word it re-formats the whole goddamn thing into one giant paragraph! Dumped it, cut and paste again, happens again. ARGH! So with the last piece I just went through and created paragraphs and breaks where I had them when I first wrote the freakin' thing, kind of did the same last night....after counting bottles and woke this morning to find that my 2:00 AM idea of what was good enough, wasn't.
So those of you that get that email dealie, sorry about that....
Going to try and get to the bottom of what's happening. Haven't changed anything that I can think of, might have accidentally hit something at some point but being as I am a severe compu-tard I can't figure it out. Going to buckle down this evening, which is to say sit next to the husband incessantly whining until he hopefully figures it out.
Bare with me (yes, intended)
In the meantime, forgive my silence....
Posted by
Samantha Dugan
6 comments:
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text:
"How I feel about Wayne Coyne, though even then I only like a couple FL albums."
Which ones do you like!?
back at you love bug
hey I sent you a pm today... let me know if you didn't get one.
hey were like twins!
hey were almost on the forum AT THE SAME TIME!!!!
hey boy, going to send you a pm tomorrow...
shits going down, and I've been in rehearsals all weekend. which is cool. But that's whats hold'en me up.
sometimes when I've been typing for a while I get logged off... then when I sign in I just get re-directed to my inbox, but when I do send a message I get a display saying "your message was sent" ... not this time my man!!!
lol... its true!!! were kindred spirits ;) way chill of us to find each other on the internet, how 21 century.
VVVV my comment here, I crack myself up VVVV
why is your mood "horny" don't you think you'll give off the wrong impression with a forum full of boys??? unless that's the impression your going for(!!!!).
thanks for asking ;)
Senior E6er

subset: commoncrawl


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text:
bag : REBECCAMINKOFF bags / guy's singlet : cotton on / wrap around shirt : vintage
Chill people! I am wearing pants inside, it's just really short that's all cause I wanted to be comfy in the airport,
my flight to penang was 9am so I had to wake up at 6am, oh no, 5am because I had to 'wake up' call my friend,
who wanted to be all glamorous in the airport, yeah, with concealer, bronzer and all that shits, lol but me,
I just wore nothing on my face, and felt soooo out of place, expecting there was no one that early in the airport,
but no... girlfriend, there was tons of people in KLIA2, who would have thought right at 6am -_- LOL anyways,
HELLIOWWW guyssss, I know this may sound really embarrassing but yea, it's my first time landing in Penang.
A lot of people were shocked as well lol being that I'm a Malaysian and haven't been to Penang before, I know,
where have I been and what have I been doing my whole life right? well, the reason is... I don't know...lol.
So we've been told to venture into this "popular" cafe in Penang and here's a lil bit on how it looks like inside,
overall for this Penang trip I didn't bring my DSLR so the pictures here are not that sharp as my other pictures,
reason why is because I wasn't there for a "traveling trip", I was there for a mission – a surprise the bff mission lol.
okay so before I blog about this lil cafe, I wanna talk about our mission !
So! We already know that the bff is going to Penang for her getaway birthday trip, so I was invited by her gang,
p.s, you know me and my bff isn't at the same city right now, so I was invited to be the secret special mysterious guest!
haha. it was a plan fail actually cause someone from the group there accidentally spilled my name when booking the hotel,
so we were like wtf, haha but I went with another "secret guest" - Enzo the diva, so at least the bff doesn't know that he's going!
So we arrived in Penang first, got the cake and le cute macarons from Gurney and off to surprise her in her hotel room!
and then we went out to explore penang!!!
anyways, here's a lil bit on ChinaHouse, penang! a really cozy and interesting cafe that has live band at night too!
This place is super amazing, as you guys all know, Penang is a heritage place similar to Malacca, (my hometown yo)
So, all the shops, including Chinahouse, looks like any other shops from the front, when I first saw it at the front,
I really did start to doubt what was all the big buzz over this normal looking, in fact, quite boring looking place!
But when I went in it was much cooler! It felt like a never ending passage with different colors and patterns everywhere.
every more step we took was a bunch full of "wahhhh"s and "woooow"s as we ventured into this space.
A twist of modernity with a heritage / tribal essence would be the best way to describe this place,
very much like Twelfth St. by Cynthia Vincent dresses' collection. amazing prints with a modern cutting.
I didn't get the chance to take pictures of the place much, but I will when I come to Penang again ;)
just a tiny spot from the cafe - this is the bar part that lights up at night.
lol look at me damn concentrating and focus on my drawing.
oh they have a "Coffee cup contest" basically you can find an empty paper cup on your table with some crayons,
and later then you can just let your imagination and hands to the job ;) hahahhaa what am I talking about, sounds dirty,
so me being me didn't really read the instructions beforehand, so we just drew whatever we had in mind,
can you guess which one I drew tho? I think it's pretty obvious by now, hahahaha so after we had our cakes from the cafe
(btw it tasted like Alexis if you haven't tried), we went out for some more adventure time!!
cats #1 which reminds me this picture would go so well with KADE SPADES HATS !
There's a cat one that I like so much! meow~ Cat Women wannabe right hurrr. or I mean purr. lame lol
There's a cat one that I like so much! meow~ Cat Women wannabe right hurrr. or I mean purr. lame lol
cats #2 so many cats drawing!! :D
what are best friends for? – they're there to be silly the same way you are :)
On the road side, I think we were walking on the famous old road? And me and le bff did our hair here!
I don't know what's it called, but the guy from PERU did this for us, took like 15 mins and rm25 for one of these.
It's really pretty tho, and it's not called hair braiding, okay I'll call this hair string tying braids ;) hahaha
okay enough walking around, we went back to the hotel we stayed in SUNWAY resort penang, and fortunately!
DOWNSTAIRS our hotel was the popular street lane!! woohoo! So many yummy foods to eat! recommended by the taxi guy,
OH btw, when I told my friends (in kl) that I took cabs wherever I went in Penang, they were laughing at me T_T
Because you know whyyyyy, the roads are actually pretty near by... AND! in Penang, the taxis doesn't use meter.
It's all fixed price. At first I was thinking, "Eh, good what, so when there's jam it won't get overpriced."
But apparently it's even more expensive with fixed price, i didn't know what and still am not quite sure why,
but whatttteverrrr la, hahahaha. So anyways! We packed soooo much food, damnn lots! and went up the hotel to eat.
HAHAHA, i'm so sorry I can't show you the pictures of the good food, we were just too excited we stuffed errthang in.
AND AFTERWARDS! you know me, when I go to a new place I always like to check out the party scenes there,
but i realise, with the best company you can just party anywhere! So we partied in our hotel room...
hahaha NOT! no way we're gonna be stuck in the hotel room doing nothing! ROUND ONE PREDRINKS LETS GO!
us looking all fine and shits before heading to the clubs! yeah we went to two places :) –cuvee and soho
haha I'm gonna fast cut this one cause we were quite messed up, hhahha, in a good way,
the whole party turned into a lipstick party afterwards, errbody using my lipstick to kiss errbody.
the whole party turned into a lipstick party afterwards, errbody using my lipstick to kiss errbody.
but kisses were giving mostly to the birthday gurll – queen of the night! so much love for you
you should be more than blessed having so many wondering people caring for you sweetie!! xx
okay roll out of bed the next morning, it was harddd getting out of our major comfy beds, but we did!
cropped top : similar here / midi skirt : similar here / gold + black shoes : similar here
I guess this is my "travelling outfit", a cropped top to make sure you don't get too warm from the hot sun,
a long a line midi skirt, well ironically to keep you away from the sun, because you don't wanna get a bad tan,
and it's also flirty in a way because of it's a-line cutting it looks ultra girly and I love wearing this everywhere!
and HEELS of course, wedges to be specific, I love wearing wedges for outings and in fact, I think wedges
are more comfortable to walk in than heels. and of course I've said it before I am gonna use my RM bag for travels,
because it's so damn secure! I got mine from SHOPBOP.COM , you can check out REBECCA MINKOFF there
Well, so anyways, we shopped around gurney plaza and I think there's a new mall beside it ( i forgot the name)
but it felt like Pavillion KL, I bough myself a lot of stuffs from H&M ( i knowww, i'm in penang but i'm buying kl stuffs)
that's just because in KL i don't have time to go for shopping! haha, so I treated this penang trip as a lil getaways,
and of course our lil surprise mission for the bff's birthday. :) Hmmm, I'm missing penang's char keuw tiao so much!
even my tummy is rumbling when I type out the word penang char kewy tiao T____T sigh.
I'll be back for you soon penang! Anyone know any similar char kewy tiao places that tastes like Penang,
BRING ME PLEASEEEE~~ thank yuuuuuuu!


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Daniel Salazar from S531. This is Dani's intro to our class, you can visit his blog and leave a comment..
Orlando Ortega.I'm currently taking the Advertising and PR course at URBE. I'm only 18 years old, though I'm turning 19 pretty soon!I love music, even though I do NOT play any musical instrument. Particularly, I prefer listening to English/German/French music because I enjoy not only the music and rhythm but the language itself. I love listening to alternative rock bands such as Oasis, Snow Patrol, Coldplay, Kasabian, Crowded House and the list goes on and on... As i said before, I'm studying at URBE and this blog is made because of my new lovely english teacher (english 5- Class: S-531). Hi professor!, that's the way she prefers to be called. I love traveling. I still dream about going to Europe asap (as soon as possible). That's my next travel spot as i hope to stay in Paris for a whole week and another one in London. I also love (watching) Tennis! i can spend 5 hours watching a tennis match without zapping on the TV! , isn't it such a great talent? I hate onions and hypocrite people who show you a nice side of 'em but behind you they'll go talking bad things about you! I hope to post another enter as soon as i can handle this blog thing! I'm pretty old-fashioned since I don't know how to use it!
He's a student in level 3 S332. His blog's name is Orlando's Land. make sure to com eby and say hello.
I have a Curious name, I'm known as Orlando Orlando Ortega Urdaneta. I was born Nineteen years ago and I am from the wonderful Venezuelan Republic, specifically of the beautiful city of Maracaibo in The Zulia State.Andreina Quinto... Level 2 R221
Now a days I'm studying Third quarter of Social Communication, Mention: Audiovitual, in the excellent University , Rafael Belloso Chacín and also I'm in the Seventh semester of Integral Education in the Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela University.
I'm a Passionate guy. I like to read and be creative. Also, I really want to learn new things about life; One of my hobbies is chatting with my friends of facebook and of course the internet in general.
In a Future I would like to work As a Universitary Professor in the area of Social communication, Have my on Educational Institution and write books about interesting histories: About love, pation and action, Knowledge about daily life and an autobiography of myself. I would like to leave my mark in the Venezuelan media and the rest of the world through programs based on creating conscience in the People in a Fun And interesting way!
Hello everybody! My name's Andreina Quinto but you can call me Andre!. I'm from Cabimas, originally. I live in Maracaibo, in Villa Delicias. I'm 20 years old and I study Public Accounting.Ricardo Villalobos, D201
I love my family, my country and the voz veis band.
I like to eat pizza and sushi, go to the movies, dance, listen to music, go to travel and visit my friends on the weekend.
I hate beer, smoking, violence, war, injustice.
My dream is to know different cultures and the Hobby band. I want to be an accountant in a short time. I would like to speak several languages.
About English, in my opinion is an interesting language and so important in the actual world. I hope I can improve my english skill's in this class and be an excellent student. This is a little of me.. and remember, an eye for an eye, makes the world blind.. peace. MAKE LOVE, NOT WAR.!
My name is Ricardo Villalobos but you can call me Ricky. I`m from Maracaibo, originally. I live in La Floresta. I`m 40 years old and I study Law at URBE. My favorite subjects is English and Sociology. I love my family and friends, my favorite sport is soccer . I like watch tv . I like horror movies. I like the Gaita Zuliana, I love pizza and Chinese food. My favorite actors are Morgan freeman and Bruce Willis.Lamia Abdel Salam, D201.
I hate egocentrism, vanity, envy, crime and treason.
My dream is to be the best father in the world and manage my own TV show, produce films, create a foundation and defend the innocent.
Also I can say that one of my activities is to be the director of Alitasia, a group of gaitas. Alitasia - Con las Manos en el Pecho excelente Gaita... enjoy it!!!
Hi, my name is Lamia and my last name is Abdel Salam. My nickname is Lulu, I was born in Valencia but I came to Maracaibo (Venezuela) because I got married in last January. I live in Bellas Artes. I`m 21 years old and I study Law at URBE.Marian Portillo, N311
Venezuela is very big! ten million people live here. My parents and all my family are in Valencia. My birthday is on June eleven.
I have two sisters and one of them live is San Antonio (The Teques - Venezuela) is the biggest one she has two children's, I have two nieces I love them and the younger one live in Valencia (Carabobo) and I have one brother he's twenty four years old.
My mother and my father were born in Lebanon but they are working here in Venezuela, they have a Furniture Store.
My husband is a business man. He is twenty seven years old. I love him is the best man in the world. I want to live with my husband always and forever. His name is Osmat and his last name is Makarem.
My mother in law and my father in law are amazing. I want to have 4 children in the future. I want to live with my family in Lebanon because it is beautiful, quiet, interesting and clean but it is very small and expensive.
My name is Marian Portillo. I'm 19 years old. I live in Maracaibo, Venezuela.
In this blog, I'm going to post my school work. I'm in third level of the english program. I study industrial engineering at URBE.
I love Shakira, her songs and the way She dances..
Jafet Garcia, N 311
This is me, Jafet García, I'm 17 years old, I'm from Maracaibo, Venezuela, I like to go out with my friend to enjoy the life. I'm a Sophomore of industrial engineering.
Claudia Portillo, D291
Hi, there! My name's Claudia Portillo but you can call me CLAU!. I'm from Maracaibo , originally. I live in Maracaibo, in El Milagro. I'm 18 years old and I study law-lawyer at I love music, studying English and law-lawyer, talking on the phone with my friends, pizza , chocolate, my family . dolphins.Well, congratulations and welcome to the club!
I hate sushi , smoking, listening to rock, getting up early on the weekend, violence, war, in justice,
My dream is to travel around the world, visit the Pyramids in Egypt and The Eiffel Tower in Paris. Of course, I want to graduate and be a good accountant. I also want to learn to speak English, and Italian. I'd love to work in an important company and buy a house, get married and start a family.
About English, I love to learn new languages. I think English is very important. I listen to music and watch TV in English. It's a good exercise. I also chat on the Internet and have very friends in many countries. I can write so so, but I need to practice more. The most difficult for me is speaking. I need to practice very more. I hope I can make a lot of friends and practice speaking in this class.
Keep on shining Love and Peace!


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Oh I do like to be beside the seaside, even in the rain
It wouldn't be an English summer without spending a drizzly day at the beach shivering while determinedly eating fish and chips on the seafront.
And to prove that we are indeed in England and that the weather is at times inclement, Fernhill House residents braved the elements for a trip to Weston-super-Mare to indulge in one of the nation's favourite culinary experiences!
Dressed both for November frosts and March gales and in sunhats in the vain hope that the yellow globe in the sky would actually make an appearance, they nobly tucked into their fried delicacies while watching the donkeys miserably plying their trade along the muddy drizzly shoreline.
The outing will hopefully be repeated on a more tropical occasion.


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Scholastic Offensive
At first glance, it seems that there is no other topic as well-trodden as this one – imams in Germany. Even those with absolutely no interest in the subject have already been exposed to countless reports on "preachers of hate," while the media, with its fondness for repetition, has portrayed imams as an obstacle to integration, although within their communities, they are regarded as role models.
There is nothing particularly new about the subject of Rauf Ceylan's latest book ("Die Prediger des Islam", i.e. "The Preachers of Islam"), except, however, his approach. Rauf Ceylan is the first to have gone to the trouble of simply searching out for himself those people about who so much has been spoken.
This treasure chest of a book consists of some 40 interviews conducted by Ceylan. It quickly becomes clear that imams are not some sort of religious robots, having led strictly pious lives since their early childhood. Take the 43-year-old Ismail Z., who recalls with a sigh how he had received offers from the Turkish premier league, but left his dreams of a football career to languish. Under pressure from his father, he became an imam.
"Import imams" from Turkey
By documenting such stories, the author has done his part in sweeping away old clichés. Ceylan, however, does not restrict himself to purely descriptive writing. "If I were to pass school grades on all of the Friday sermons I sat through," he says, "then the average result would be 'unsatisfactory.' The listener usually has no other choice than to grit his teeth and be patient until the khutbas (sermon) is over."
The reader recognizes at once that these are the unrestrained insights of an insider. Ceylan is in his early thirties and already a Professor of Religious Studies in Osnabrück. Born in Duisburg, his Kurdish parents taught him Turkish – his key to the mosque community. And he brings along to his job the intellectual tools of a doctorate level social scientist.
Ceylan portrays an image of a community of spiritual leaders, who, for the most part, are struggling with the excessive demands of their duties. The majority of these are "import imams" from Turkey, who are posted to Germany for a period of four years – usually just the amount of time it takes them to get accustomed to life here.
In addition, they are overwhelmed by the variety of tasks they are expected to perform, most of which they have not encountered in Turkey, where, in contrast to Germany, they usually only have to conduct the Friday sermon. Here, they also serve as spiritual councillors, marriage conflict mediators, debt advisors, and accompany mosque-goers on their rounds through government bureaucracy. And on top of all this, they are caught between the pincers of the community and the mosque's board of directors.
German social welfare and Islamic law
Not all imams deal with these difficulties in the same way. Ceylan proposes a typology consisting of four groups of Muslim spiritual leaders. One of these he terms the "Prussian imams," those upholding conservative values, who, according to Ceylan's estimates, make up three quarters of all imams in Germany. They promote traditional role models for men and women and are fixated on authority.
On the other hand, they are not at all prone to expressing extremist positions. This is because one of their highest values is maintaining a balanced social order, as demanded by the Koran. "The German state calls it social welfare, but in principle, it is adhering to a requirement of Islamic law," explained one of these imams. Suddenly, Islam assumes a totally different perspective. From the viewpoint of the "Prussians," Germany as a social welfare state is even more Islamic than Turkey.
The greater picture
The Salafi imams, the "preachers of hate," form another one of these groups. Despite Ceylan's impressive and illuminating portrait of their decline into religious extremism, this inevitably remains the least original part of the book. Long before Ceylan, hordes of journalists have attempted with an almost religious fervour to fully document the psychology and development of these "hate preachers" and there is simply very little new to add.
A completely different type of imam falls under the "intellectual-offensive" category. They promote an image of Islam that is independent and rational. Ceylan observes how these avant-garde imams tend to turn away from their communities, which they regard as too old-fashioned, and establish their own, new circle of followers.
Separated from the vast majority of German Muslims, they do present a potential for renewal that perhaps won't completely fizzle out, but will nevertheless remain extremely limited. "The next generation will work things out" is a painfully wrong tenet here.
The only solution according to Ceylan is that the West must train its own imams. The purpose is not to somehow find a quick mend for integration. Instead, Ceylan is concerned with the greater picture – Islam as a whole must be thought out anew and the key here is the imam.
Even the Al-Azhar University in Cairo, the elite school for anything to do with Sunni Islam, has supposedly "ossified scholastically" long ago. Ceylan's bold vision sees Western imam study programs as perhaps someday providing a "newimpetus for theology in Islamic countries".
Thilo Guschas
© Qantara.de 2010
Rauf Ceylan: "Die Prediger des Islam" (The Preachers of Islam), published by Herder Verlag, Freiburg 2010.
Translated from the German by John Bergeron
Editor: Lewis Gropp/Qantara.de
College Training for Muslim Imams in Germany
A Laborious Process
One German state is hoping to improve the integration of its Muslim community by offering imam training programs at university. Michael Hollenbach reports
Islam and Enlightenment
A Space for Doubts and Questions
Germany's Science Council has proposed anchoring Islamic theology at the German universities – rightly and fortunately so, says Matthias Drobinski. In the juncture of religion and science Islam has the chance to win back the ability for reflection and self-restriction that the faith once had
Female Imams in Germany
The Call of the Muezzin Women
Women rarely become preachers of the Islamic faith. In Germany there are only 13 female imams. Their job: pastoral care and integration. Mosques are urgently in need of women providing such services. Ulrike Hummel reports


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Ultramarine Green Shade 37ml
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