Yo Momma

Another Mother's Day has come and gone and I have not received a damn thing from Sofi. Seriously pup, do you not appreciate me at all?

Of course she does, she's just bad at communicating her feelings... I wonder where she got that from?

But this post is not about Sofi, it's about me and my wonderful mother.

In the case of me and my mom, the apple has certainly not fallen far from the tree. We have so many similarities that I often wonder if she's copying me. She probably wonders if I'm copying her. Self-involvement might be one of our common threads. Kidding Mom.

We share a love for all things bohemian, the Beatles, being a drama queen, and the Gap. We both come home from hikes with pockets full of rocks, paint every piece of furniture in our homes multiple times, and have the same devotion to Clinique. We even cosmically end up buying the same shampoo without knowing it.

However, there are many ways that she is different and they are the ways in which I wish I could be just like her.

She is completely fulfilled in her day job, working with unfortunate children. She can whip up a fabulous, healthy meal for ten hungry people in twenty minutes flat. She never fails to land the upgrade at every hotel she's ever stayed at. She always makes time to focus on her health and fitness no matter how busy she is. She is a vault for every one's secrets and gives advice that can seem life saving.

I count myself lucky for the ways in which we are the same and admire her for the ways in which we are not.

The latest similarity was revealed to me on Mother's Day when we went to a yoga class together. Typically I prefer not to be beside her at yoga because it only takes one look to get us both giggling in a very non-yogic way.

The closing of the class came with the dreaded group Om. After doing yoga for five years, I still avoid having to chime in and hear my own voice. My solution to this has always been to move my mouth into a circle and just let air, not noise, pass through my lips.

I glanced over at my mom and saw that she was doing the same thing.

"Did you just lip sync your Om?"

A quick nod let me know that she had.

Yep. She was Milli, I was Vanilli.

But rather than blaming in on the rain, we chose to blame it on our hereditary lack of pitch and the fact that we are two of a kind.

Two peas in a pod.

Quite fitting actually, considering that we are both vegetarians.

Happy Mother's Day.

I love you.

Spanish Fever

Long ago at the cute age of 21, while studying abroad I was given the opportunity to spend Christmas in the beautiful Spanish town of Zaragoza with some of my fellow students.

It was a huge moment for me, not just because I had a lovely group of locals to show me the culture, but because it was the first and only Christmas that I have ever spent away from my own family.

Fortunatley for me, the town's spectacular sights and my tour guide's hot older brother left me little time to mope and miss my family.

I would show a photo of me in the town but I am much too horrified over what endless baguettes and chocolate bars had done to my figure at the time. The Euro-diet did not do good things for me.

As sad as I thought I would be at the time, I am more sad now thinking about how certain I was that I would be back to visit shortly, but yet have never returned.

Rather than letting it get me down I decided to take a walk down memory lane by digging out my old photo albums and pouring myself a memorable drink.

The drink of choice is the very spanish Kalimotxo.

Fill a glass with lots of ice and add equal parts red wine and Coca Cola. Set yourself up on the couch looking out at the places where you've lived and loved and take a sip.

Sometimes its helpful to reflect on and appreciate the good memories rather than be sad that they are in the past. And in reflecting I feel completely happy.

Which reminds me of one of the only Spanish sayings that I actually remember from that time, "Sólo un idiota puede ser totalmente feliz." It means, only an idiot can be totally happy.

Well, call me an idiot but this Kalimotxo has made me muy, muy, happy.

Salud.

Shout Out: The Russian Edition

Здравствуйте!

Much to my delight when checking on my stats today, I realized that it is not just my parents and Jay and Gigi that have been reading Life Is A Lark. Unless they've taken a group holiday to Russia and left me out.

55 views from Russia. What??? Thanks Ruskis! (I really hope that name is not derogatory!)

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my blog. And while I'm at it, thank you for a couple of other things.

First and foremost, vodka. When the red wine has run dry this is my reliable backup that helps me get through the toughest of times. Like when the red wine has run dry.

Russia is the native homeland of one of my favorite authors, Ayn Rand. If any of you have checked out Voracious Lu, you will understand my love for this woman's writing and my curiosity of her politics.

Many other great things come from Russia, Regina Spektor, Anna Kournicova, Chanel no. 5, the periodic table, and mail order brides.

But the best things that I can think of that are from Russia are you, dear readers.

Thank you for tuning in!