Oh Rosé Won’t You Be My Bae!?

Some people remember prom (never went) their first kiss (trying to forget) or to put oil in their car (did you know that’s not a suggestion, I mean you actually HAVE to put oil in your car!)  Who knew!?  When I look back it’s the truly significant moments that stick out in my mind.  My first shopping trip to Nordstroms at nine, the day I got my Starbucks gold card and my first sip of wine!  It was my sweet 16 and my mom gave me a a small pour of Sutter Home White Zinfandel.  That’s right folks, good ole Sutter Home Zin.  That 2001 was quite a vintage (said no one ever!)  Follow that with my  introduction to the oh so chic Franzia boxed wine blush a few years down the road.  It’s like hearing about Britney Spears  for the first time when she shaved her head and then watching Crossroads.

Over the years I’ve matured into a very classy lady with what I can assure you is a tremendously refined palate.  (I can almost always tell the difference between a white or red wine without even looking!)  It occurred to me a while back that the trauma caused by my very unfortunate introduction to “wine” had subconsciously predisposed me to equate pink with plonk.  (Don’t be embarrassed if you have to Google “plonk”, it’s a very sophisticated term only true wine aficionados like myself would know.)  On a totally unrelated note can someone please explain to me in the comments how one erases their Google history???

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