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Santa Barbara, Santa Claus, and the CWAS Exam

I feel like I've gone full circle: the first vineyard I've ever been to was in Santa Barbara. Here I am with the last class of the California Wine Appellation Specialist program studying the same sub-region, along with the weird loose ends like wines from Los Angeles county, whose appellations all seem to have "Malibu" tacked somewhere in their place names. It's odd that I consider the end of a course dramatic enough to something that completes a full circle, but I said it once and I'll say it again: school is bae. Already looking into more courses, you guys. God damn, tuition. What the fuck is a savings account? If the gayest wines are rosés and Champagnes, it follows that I should probably sign...

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Gay wine culture: the uncontrollable urge to pair Arroyo Grande wines with Ariana Grande

The stroke of December leads to the dawn of pregnant holiday plans which I've decided to not spend in Vancouver for the first time. Christmas, the first of my big two, has passed - and I planned for the Eve to be a quiet one, and it was legitimately fantastic. Why don't I roast vegetables more often, while listening to Ariana Grande's Christmas music, and then watch episodes of Grand Hotel while sipping Crémant? I spent the 25th at a friend's, a polar opposite yang to the previous night's yin. Ever watch someone combine your Premier Cru Champagne with Korbel, but then have your cringe melt into a shrug because it's Christmas? Yeah. And then the other holiday evenings. Y'all. One night involved all of attending the...

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