This is a Story About Magic…and Pink Champagne.

Just your average, giggly, pink champagne lunch. With fries, duh.

Once there was a very wise and funny woman who absolutely LOVED pink champagne. I already adored her but upon hearing that fact, well, it made me love her even more.

Why, you ask?

Because in my opinion pink champagne is the friendlier, less pretentious, girlier (don’t get all feminist on me, I mean this in the best way) sister of regular champagne. It’s fun. It’s the poodle skirt of champagnes.
It giggles. It twirls. It charms and delights.

Anyhow, The other day, after listening to one of her books on audible, read by her, I became nostalgic. “Show me a sign that you’re still around” I asked her politely. Less than an hour later I was offered, out of the blue, a glass of pink champagne.

I relayed this bit of magic to a darling and dear friend of mine who is currently going through a rough patch. “Isn’t that magical?” I said. We both agreed that my wise pink champagne loving mentor should help her through this…rough patch.
We did that by nodding dreamily in unison over FaceTime.

This same friend told me she was looking for a house. Not just any house. A start over house.

She has intended with a heart full of love to reinvent her life. And it’s a good time to do so since the life she’s leaving behind is kinda in a…well…rough patch. If you were to take a snapshot of her life—in this moment—it would not look good on paper. But, seriously, we’ve all been there at one time or another, right?

One. Tiny. Detail remained. You know what new houses require? That you look amazing on paper.

Meh. No problem.

She decided, since she was doing that reinventing thingy, to really commit. So she scanned the internet for a house to rent using NO FILTERS.

Have you ever done ANY search with no filters? Terrifying. Exactly.

It’s amazing how many filters we run our lives through. Financial. Emotional. Rational. But that’s an essay for another day.

After a while, lo and behold, the perfect house popped up. Perfect in every way. Size, decor, location. all except for the price. Did that deter our intrepid heroine?

Hell to the NO!

She made an appointment to meet with the realtor who was surprisingly underwhelmed by my friend’s less than stellar financials. “Just as long as you don’t have a dog” she laughed.

“Oh, I have a dog. But just a small one”, my friend replied.
“Huh. I’ll have to talk to the owners” was the real estate woman’s response.

Gee, that doesn’t sound like a no, my brave friend thought on her way home.

When the wife of the couple who own the house met her dog later that week the dog behaved like the docile, well-behaved pup she is NOT—and the wife fell in love. “Of course you can have your dog”, she gushed in that baby talk that dogs find disgusting.

This is the part of the story where I tell her about the pink champagne magic. Cue the tandem sigh…

Not ten minutes later she texted me this picture of a random fridge in her random writing hub.

We both screamed a little. Well, honestly, we screamed a LOT!  WTF! Pink champagne!

“You are SO getting this house!” I declared. We were giddy for another ten, fifteen minutes, half hour and when we hung up I went and bought a bottle of pink champagne because when magic knocks on the door—you answer!

On my way home my wise dead friend from the beginning of the story took this whole champagne tale a step further.
“There is more to this. It goes deeper” she said. “What does champagne signify, Janet?”

After turning down the christmas carols in the car and thinking for a minute I got it. “Celebration!” I yelled like a gameshow contestant.

“Exactly”, she affirmed. “Why do you think I chose pink champagne as my sign to you guys that I’m around?”

“Because you love…” I barely got the thought out.

“Besides that. I could have chosen a myriad of things that would have let you know. So why pink champagne for your friend?”

It suddenly became so obvious to me, and you guys are so much smarter than I am you’ve probably already figured it out.

“Because she’s going to celebrate getting the house!”

“Exactly”, she said with a smile in her voice. “And you’re going to have something to celebrate soon too. Let’s not forget who got the pink champagne first.”

Holy F*ck.

“This is what happens when your future informs your present”, she dropped like a bomb at my feet.

—but that’s an essay for another day…

I invite you to look everywhere for pink champagne.

Cheers,
xox