en Argentina

At the age of twelve, I did something all embarrassed preteens dream about and few outside the witness protection program ever get a chance at: I reinvented myself. Fed up with my shoddy grades, my mother uprooted me from my uniformed girls’ academy—the kind of place where your status was a coefficient of dodge-ball throwing velocity and midterm math grades—and sent me off to a sort of new-wave experiment in learning where you went around in bare feet and called your teacher Bob. Unless, of course, his name was Sally.

It was the best thing that ever happened to me. Along with the enchanting and terrifying presence of boys, came the beauty of starting with a clean slate. No longer was I the loner who slept through math and found diagramming sentences a complete waste of time. Transplanted, I became a popular, vivacious biology whiz, admired by all for my ability to map out a phrase in Latin or English. I had found my people.

All of you who long to pull into the pit stop of life and have your reputation rotated: your vinous patron saint is Malbec.

Malbec is a grape with a second-rate role in Europe...
Read the article By Jennifer Chotzi Rosen at http://thepassengernews.tripod.com

Jennifer is the author of, “Waiter, There’s a Horse in My Wine”, and “The Cork Jester's Guide to Wine” (those are the central page of "The passenger news" )