DIARY OF AN MW STUDENT: DOOMSDAY

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If I claimed the days leading up to doomsday (aka MW exam results day) weren’t filled with blistering anxiety about this column, it would be one of the larger untruths I’ve ever attempted. As the day approached, my ego amused itself with fantasies of writing about another subject entirely (rootstocks or something), slipping “oh, and I didn’t pass” in the last sentence and hoping nobody noticed.
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DIARY OF AN MW STUDENT: THE CRACK

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The origin story of this week’s column is especially dear to me because it is an ode to the bliss of a Master of Wine student’s post-exam life. You see, in order to preserve the sensitivity of my olfactory instrument (nose), I swore off perfume for about two and a half years (with, I confess, the occasional guilty lapse on very special occasions, like non-wine dinners).
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DIARY OF AN MW STUDENT: SHIFTING BLAME

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With only about a month remaining before my MW tasting exams as I wrap up this article, the pressure is now somewhere on the dial between 10 and 11. I remember from about this time last year that this is when most of us begin to show subtle (and some less subtle) signs of wear – under-eye bags more than usually baggy, spines like typhoon-battered tree trunks from shuttling about weighty tomes and cases of wine, teeth perpetually black from daily tasting.
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DIARY OF AN MW STUDENT: MI CORAVIN

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One question that never seems to get old when you reveal to people that your version of studying involves tasting lots of different types of wine is “you must drink loads of good wine then?” Regrettably, this truly isn’t the case (at least, not while I’m studying). Loathe as I am to play the consummate wine snob, even my well-exercised liver simply lacks the capacity to process whole bottles of the myriad (many, sadly, rather average) wines that I’m required to know intimately in order to pass the Master of Wine tasting exams.
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