Bubbly.

My mom likes beer. She doesn't even try to be pretentious about it. Not Guinness. Not Stella. Not Lowenbrau. She likes the stuff that truckers in the Midwest like. Those truckers who wear "John Deere" hats, not because it's trendy, but because they're actually employed by John Deere. I'm talking about Mickey's and Pabst Blue Ribbon beer. She, herself, is originally from Middle America - Iowa/ Illinois - think Bridges of Madison County and Chevy pickup trucks. Over the years, she has acquired a taste for red wine, specifically Syrah. And vodka martinis. But just between you and me, I think she just likes the martinis for the olives.

On those hot, summer days when you just lose your appetite for anything, I know that my mom would appreciate an ice-cold bottle of beer. On those quiet nights, when the rest of the world has gone to bed, I know that my mom would want a nice glass of garnet-colored wine. And on those days where you're just tired of the same ol' story, I know that my mom would be delighted by a crisp, colorful cocktail.

Tonight, I picked up a bottle of champagne on my way back to Orange County. A bottle of Korbel (I can't afford French champagne just yet, only ones from Sonoma/Napa Valley.) and a bouquet of flowers. We're not big champagne drinkers, but it only seemed appropriate because there was reason to celebrate - my mom got a job.

There is a lot to be said about how proud I am of my mom. About what a great accomplishment this is. About how excited, anxious, and a little bit scared I am for what the future holds for her. About how excited, anxious, and a little bit scared I am for what this means for me and the rest of our family. But for right now, I am so happy for her.

So we celebrated.