A few of us are getting together this saturday.
Well, to be perfectly plain with you, it's more sinister than that.
A few of us are planning to get together this saturday to imbibe. Tons of Alcohol hopefully. But we're venturing a little boldly this time. We're doing, no attempting, a scotch tasting.
Each one's been asigned a region in scotland - the highlands, lowlands, speyside, islay, what have you - and to bring a bottle of the amber from said region.
I don't know why really. A desire to do the usual with a little culture added in. Two birds, one stone, that kinda thing. Whisky and I don't mix, but then again, this is scotch. I'll probably prove the misty eyed wrong and say both have the same effect on me, both are the same, but no pain no gain eh.
Also, the weather's been awesome in New York. The white skinned have been complaining about it though. But I've come to realise it's comes naturally to them. Complaining that is. The weather reminds me of them hill stations in India. The misty skies, the cloudy overhanging rain bearing skies - I want to wrap me in, have chai and pakodas and watch through windows and raindrops breaking ground.
The ice I can do without. The snow I could do more of. Snowmen you see. I've wanted a suicidal snowman of my own ever since I picked up a calvin and hobbes book.
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So, how did that go? Was Scoth any different?
And if Indian hill stations is what you miss, you should come visit Santa Cruz. It's mountains and trees and pretty pretty fog, sometimes all day long. And as bonus, we also have the Pacific. And in the evenings, when the sun is setting, the sky takes these magnificent hues that it's hard to imagine that a prettier place exists.
It was actually. Decently different. Slowly turning into loyalist.
Really? ok havent' been to the west coast ever. Want to. Will do.
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