Sadly, Bubella left this morning.
I adore that girl.
If I was a Kangaroo, I would carry her around in my pouch. If I had a magic wand, I would shrink her to fit on a keychain and take her out whenever I wanted amusement. I love her so much I could rip off her head, use it as a stress ball and her ears a calming chew toy.
She has left an angsty teen shaped hole in my heart.
However, while I was in super fun tourist mode, I missed you so much I had what I imagine your face to look like burned into my flesh - which isn't pretty because I can only draw stick figures. I hope you don't mind.
I shall catch you up before I return to meatier topics.
Things you missed:
1. Since we last spoke, Bubella and I went to -
- Disneyland - in 100 degree heat and animatronic heaven, I got to simultaneously have fun and verify that yes indeed, kids do suck.
- San Diego - margaritas, seafood, shopping. An overnight stop en route to Bubella's first Donkey show (justkiddingsettledown).
- Cinespia. There's this crazy thing in Hollywood where every Saturday during the summer, they play a movie in Hollywood Forever Cemetery, projected on a mausoleum. Giant clouds of pot smoke, everyone has a picnic, there's a DJ before.. We engaged in losing our terminator virginities - that's right, out of my group of 4, only one had seen it before.
- Oh, and on her last day, for those of you who will recognize what this is, I took her here -
WHAT?! YES. Bow in the shadow of my awesomeness.
2. Bubella broke up with her first love - her boyfriend of a year and a half. (Let's all take a moment to conjure up what breaking up with our first love felt like... I'll wait here while you vomit).
The kid's a little shit. Definitively. Not in the 'oh he's just being a teenage boy' way, but also not in the 'oh dear G-d tell her parents or hire a hitman' way. Whilst we were in San Diego, his shittiness reached a pinnacle and she basically very calmly & maturely said to him "hey can you not be a dickface?" and he said "no ma'am, I cannot".
Not my little sister, asswipe, you must have her confused with someone who doesn't have a sister-in-law who will put dirty tampons in your backpack. I would fly to where you are and chase you in a less dangerous version of Schwarzenegger style - armed with a foam pugil stick and a menacing Austrian accent. YOU ARE MY LINDA HAMILTON.
She was upset, for sure, but she's a cool customer just like her brother, that Bubella. For the last week I've been going back and forth between genuine advice and my personal forte, merciless mocking. For example, he has a wonky eye which she hadn't noticed until I pointed it out ::pats self on back::. Love is indeed blind, probably from being cross-eyed for so long.
3. I read a book that I loved so much when I finished it, I went back and read it again.
Easy read (you'll kill it in a day or two), so good particularly if you were a little weird in high school (if you're a reader of my blog and not purely to hate-stalk me, you was a little weird in high school and beyond, honeychild).
Anyhoo - Stork's big book suggestion at this moment in time is "The Perks of Being a Wallflower". They have turned it into a movie coming out later this year, and I'm trying not to be suspicious despite the fact that the preview doesn't look as comedically dark as the book is and that it stars Emma fucking Watson. (Yes, I love Harry Potter. Stay in Harry Potter, Emma. But can the girl... act?)
4. In uterine/spooj news, if my long-ago digital OPK had been correct, I am now 2 weeks late for my period and not pregnant. So G-d only knows when/if I ovulated, or if any of the surprisingly fun, super-quiet "shhhh your sisters in the living room" sex was anything other than purely recreational.
Bubba is getting a (free! FREE! Yay for charming Doctors!) spooj test next week to see if the heads of his spermy friends are telling my eggs that they're there (my husband is an introvert - I don't know why it's surprising his sperm would be). Then he's possibly flying to Boston in the next few months to get the super-fancy-schmancy sperm test that they apparently only do there.
I am presenting this as any good infertile wife would "look! Everyone wants your sperm! Everyone! They can't get enough of it, you man-whore!"
I have much to do in the world of blog-reading, but I am back and ready to crawl right back into your uterus.