Gift of the magi

You know what—I have had it with this crappy year.

For someone on my Christmas list, I ordered four bottles of Oregon wines; two white, two red. They were very nice bottles of wine, with high ratings, and not from the bargain rack at the Food Lion.

Apparently I made the mistake of telling the recipient that I’d not tried any of them, so I was looking forward to her opinions.

Because yesterday I received an email announcing that she’s convening a session of Women Who Wine. She and five others will gather with “appropriate cheeses, fruit, crackers and 5x8 cards for notes from each of us about each wine. We will salute you for each bottle!”

Those four wines were for her to enjoy with meals, not swilled down in one sitting by six people chomping crackers whose opinions I could not give a fucking toss about. I read that email and wanted to take back the wine.

Look, I know that once you give a gift, the recipient can do whatever they like with it, even if they like stirring ice and sugar into it. But I just can’t stop crying over this, and I sure as hell am never sending her wine again.

And bring on 2019.