Bold, Intense and Lusty

"We'd like two glasses of bold, intense, and lusty Chardonnay," I said.  When ordering wine, connoisseur that I am, I find it's important to be as specific as possible, or they might give you "woodsy and well-traveled" when you're after something audacious, psychologically flawed and hormonally-infused.  Which reminds me, has anyone seen my hormones?  Yesterday, I went looking for them at CityWalk.  I didn't find them.  But I did find a new gal pal:  the lovely and hilarious Candice Reed, author of "Thank You For Firing Me" (see how I worked in that plug? You're welcome). Candice and I met online while taking a novel-writing class last summer. We shared a profound and mutual dislike of a certain participant and sent snarky emails back and forth.  Nothing bonds you for life more than shared hostility, not to mention, the same birthday, am I right?  Candice lives in Washington State, but now and then travels to San Diego to see family.  She kept threatening to visit me and yesterday she made good on the threat, taking a train and a Red Line and a shuttle.  I planned her itinerary and we were both amazed she didn't wind up in Outer Krapistan.  So we sat at a noisy bistro, we drank our lusty wine and yelled over the loud music.  We yelled about writing and life stories and giggled our butts off.  Then she went back to her people in San Diego, and I went back to mine in Allan Sherman Oaks.  Before parting, Candice asked, "Is Sherman Oaks named after the Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah, guy?"  "Allan Sherman? Absolutely," I said.  Please don't tell Candice I lied.  I need all the friends I can get.