I never thought I liked champagne. Mostly because, in my younger years, I was exposed to some real crap (I think it’s called Cold Duck? Dunno. It’s terrible, though.) Anyway, this stuff at my cousin’s bridal shower (which I was glaringly underdressed for, in perfect Picky Niki fashion) wasn’t crap. And it was mixed with lemonade and garnished with a strawberry (I chucked that away, of course. Nasty little buggers). So it was lovely and refreshing. And helped me forget I was in Converse sneakers and a retro t-shirt at a sundress affair. There was an unfortunate incident with a quiche disguised as a pepporoni pizza nibblet, though. I don’t want to talk about that — it’s going in the repression files.