These past few weeks have been a blur. Not a regular blur. A category five BUH-LUR. And it went by way too fast, because the thing I’ve been dreading has happened.
My sister is gone.
Well, not like GONE gone. She’s coming back eventually. But I won’t see her for at least a year, and I’m a mess.
And I’m totally a selfish ass for feeling so morose about her going away. I mean, she’s doing an amazing thing: the WorldTeach organization is all about “making a meaningful contribution to international education by living and working as a volunteer teacher in developing countries.” (They say developing, I say DANGER DANGER SOMEBODY CALL IX-I-I!)
So that’s what she’s doing. She paid her own money to volunteer in American Samoa for a year to teach science to the local kids on Tutuila. Who does that?! Who gives up a cushy life in Westlake Village to move to BFE—er, BFAS?—to teach science in a developing country?!
Someone pretty remarkable, that’s who.
South Pacific,1. California, 0.
We hit a rough patch earlier this year and I lost time I wish I’d gotten to spend with her, but we parted ways on a high note and that’s all the matters to me. I just don’t know what I’m going to do without her. She can be a rock solid pain in my ass (and I to her), and I love her to death for it. Not in spite of it, but because of it. We’re so different, but we’re so similar, and I don’t know what I’m going to do without my Beave.
Sometimes my imagination goes into overdrive and creates in vivid detail worst-case scenarios (because that’s what happens when you combine being an insane person with being an INFP), and I totally lose my shit and yell at myself for even thinking about it, but I can’t help it. It’s what I do.
In the past, though, I’ve always been less than a 6 hour drive away from her in case something did happen. And now? She just spent 21 hours traveling to her new home. I have NO idea how to talk myself down now that I can’t get to her. Yes, she’s a grown woman: a strong, intelligent, brave one at that, but still. I’m older and wiser and better at getting out of trouble than she is, and I HATE HATE DOUBLE HATE that I can’t be nearby to keep an eye on her, or even just see her stupid face.
So that’s why I’ve been neglecting What’s Up Wednesday and Fiction Friday. It’s hard to be creative when you’re throwing yourself into organizing going away parties to distract yourself from the fact that your baby sister is leaving you for a long, long time.
But even though the catalyst for this past month’s blurriness is gone (cut to me choking back sobs), things are still on an accelerated trajectory towards WHOASLOWTHEFUCKDOWNsville, because next week is the week.
COMIC CON IS NIGH.
(That’s code for “we’re still not returning to our regularly scheduled blog programming.”)
It’s also code for “get ready for endless Twitter rants about the line for Ballroom 20 and running into celebrities and me generally being an intolerable pain in the ass for 5 days straight.” Sorry, but Comic Con is 24/7, and I have backup batteries for my phone this year. NO SLEEP TIL SUNDAY!
Don’t judge. It’s what I do…and it’ll distract me from the fact that I’m dying inside now that my sister is floating somewhere in the South Pacific doing tikigod knows what. (YES, I know tiki gods are Polynesian and Samoans are like 140% Christian. I’m just trying [or failing] to be clever, put down that pitchfork).