Okay, I am NOT cool. I never really have been. I’m always a beat off from the song everyone else is dancing to, a minute late to the party, a laugh ahead of the rest.

I’ve been described as Kookie, Nutty, Zany, Weird, “funny” (but said in that way people say it when they mean utterly insane), and on more than one (hundred) occasion: Crazy. As in: Crazy Carrie!

So, whatever, I don’t always fit in, I don’t always get the joke, I definitely do NOT dress the part. . . um, case in point: here , here, here, here oh. . . and don’t forget the GOLD!

This weekend, we found ourselves in the suburbs of Seattle without the kid. (Thanks, Mom! Oh my heck, she LOVED her date with you!) So, we thought about what to do and decided to see what Woodinville has to offer the mid-life crowd. Turns out I’m a little old to hang out with the folks winery hopping along the slough!

We started out by a tasting at Facelli Winery. Such sweet folks. . . been in that crazy industrial park for 24 years. . . long before the beautiful people arrived!

Then we moved on to Woodinville Whiskey. Tom likes whiskey and the distillery has been on my list for a while, so we went for it. Free tastings and a full HOUR LONG tour. Um. . . that was a LONG TOUR! The building is merely 2 rooms! I had to laugh though. . . so many non-ironic beards, so many black rimmed glasses, so many earnest 20-somethings! And that one guy with an honest to god mono-brow who fancied himself a Whiskey Expert that asked 100 million questions about so much crap I did not give a SPIT about! The tour guide continually saying, “KEN-tucky.” The girlfriends leaning into their boys, feigning interest. The 80′s faux-hawks on girls. The dudes trying to look distinguished and non-frat brotherly. All of the posturing made me grateful to be so close to 40 and NOT in the dating scene! I could gulp back my tastes and leave without worrying what anyone thought!

I did have a decidedly Portlandia moment at the distillery. To bridge an awkward pause when the gal pouring looked expectantly at us for some sort of comment, I actually asked: “So, are the grains you use local? I mean, are they from near here?” I totally laughed at myself before mocking the whole thing even more in my head: “and, and, and. . . do you compost the spent mash? or is that fed to local pigs? Can you tell me about the composting process?” I stopped short of asking after Colin. (FYI, they DO use local grains and they DO feed the spent mash to local pigs!).

And then, we moved on to the Collective on Tap, a spot with 20 brews on tap (24 more taps coming!), large screen baseball, and candied bacon on the menu. *Candied BACON!* You seriously cannot get any more hipster than that! ha!

We finished our bacon and beers by about 6:15 pm and our evening turned decidedly less cool after that. . . we walked to Barnes and Noble Books, Ross Dress for Less, Top Foods (to buy grapefruit gummies!), then Trader Joes. . . pretty hot stuff for 8pm on a Saturday Night in the suburbs! Ah well. It’s what we wanted to do. I had my brief moment among the people who take themselves seriously and I’d so much rather wander around my small town in wonder woman socks and a jam jar full of box wine. ;)