bubble, bubble (toil and trouble? nah).


toast


i love champagne.


cava. prosecco.

this is not a secret.

i need no occasion. no excuse.

and i love the glasses in which to pour the bubbly.

in fact there is a cabinet waiting for me in new york.

it sits next to the couch in the living room.

it has dividers. probably meant for filing. but the sections are just wide enough--just tall enough for the long slender flutes and the shorter, vintage-inspired coupes.

yes, my roommates and i have a furniture piece dedicated solely to the housing of champagne glasses.

(is it any wonder we get along?).

i hadn't had anything to drink since arriving in utah at the end of june.

so on saturday night i made my way to the liquor store. picked out a bottle of pink bubbly and carefully unpopped the top (oh the sound of the cork coming undone!). i poured it into a fancy glass-cut goblet (the kind perfect for russian estates--perfect for checkhov plays) and sipped quietly as the conversation carried on around me.

i didn't need much. didn't need to drink quickly. hardly needed to go back for seconds.

and i though, there is something to be learned from this love affair with champagne.

you see i respect the champagne. i recognize its place--its purpose. and so i never overdo it.

now if i could apply this understanding to just a few other things (like ice cream and mexican food and cheese) it might change...oh you know, everything.