A Gal Named Bubbles

Last night, on the phone with Bubbles, we talk about how things are going.  Why do I call her Bubbles?  I can't remember.  Neither can she. We catch up, as girlfriends do.  Bubbles lives in New York. She was selfishly out of town during my recent visit, doing a show somewhere exotic.  Virginia.  Bubbles is an actress/dancer/ acrobat/QVC spokesperson.  She's multi-talented.  She dangles from very high places. She does crazy sh*t the SJG would never do, in this lifetime or any other.  I prefer to remain upright.  In the past, Bubbles has tried to get me to do stuff, like hang upside from a hammock in her apartment.  A hammock!  Who has a hammock in her apartment?  Bubbles.  At these moments, I've had to say, "No, Bubbles.  No.  I won't do it.  You can't make me."  Somehow, she ends up getting me to do it, anyway.  I'm powerless in her presence.  Bubbles made the Olympic Gymnastics Team but didn't get to go.  It was the year we boycotted Russia.  Why did we boycott the Olympics in Russia and not let Bubbles compete?  I can't remember that either, but I choose to take it personally, on her behalf, and feel deep disappointment.

So, last night on the phone, Bubbles tells me about the show she just did, and all the drama that comes with such creative endeavors.  She mentions a few hiccups along the way.  During the show, she was a guest in someone's home, an old man everyone adored.  Suddenly, he died.  One friend dying is horrible.  But then, back in New York, other friends died, too.  Bubbles is facing a lot of memorial services.  See what I did there?  It's Memorial Day.  I'm weaving it into today's blog.

At the end of our long phone call, I try to cheer her up.  I speak in my thick New York accent.  Trust me.  Everything is just funnier when I use my thick New York accent.  So, when I say, in my uber-NYC way, "Listen, doll, sorry about all the death," we both get hysterical.  Not that death is funny.  But sometimes, you just have to laugh about life's absurdities, it's never-ending gotcha moments.  Then Bubbles comes up with the best text message ever, a message she'd like to deliver to the Big Guy in the Sky: "D.W.D.  B.F.N."  Translation:  "Done with death.  Bye for now."  Bubbles is still waiting for a reply.