Juice

Hi internet friends,

Man, jet lag sucks.  So does not being in California.  Being close to both ocean and mountains is just good for my soul, and conversely, arriving at BWI to 100 degree heat plus the usual swampy humidity is not.

Anyway, I didn’t keep up so well with the news while I was gone, so rather than snarky commentary, I’ll just share this personal anecdote:
Although I am 24, almost 25, I’m often told I look younger.  Once, I was in the mall with my mom and we ran into an acquaintance of hers, and my mom mentioned we were shopping for a dress for the big birthday I had coming up.  “Oh, sweet sixteen?” asked the woman.  Nope, I was turning 21.

So my family and I spent some time in California touring wineries, and inevitably the people at the wineries or at dinner would look at me when asking for ID, not my just-last-week-turned-21 brother.  The best incident was at one charming place near Mendocino, where, when I came up to the counter, the very nice winery guy asked, very nicely, if I wanted to try some juice.  Because apparently I don’t just look young, I look five years old.

Turns out they have some pretty excellent grape juice, which I sampled after assuring him I was of age and trying several lovely wines.

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