The Young Bubble

Yvette B.Tamukong. That is what my birth certificate reads. However, I have been called many other names in the few years my cells have been going through mitosis. Some of these words are medical, insulting, complementing and, of course, nicknames. I was called an embryo, a baby, a child, a pre-teen, a teen, an adolescent and, at last, an adult. I do not really think the term adult should be applied based on medical terms. An adult is someone who is responsible for themselves and is capable, if needed, of caring for another. As of now I do not believe myself to have met those conditions. So this the story of how I got so many names. I was born to Joseph and Florence T on the evening of monday, May *1, 19** in a providence called Wum. I was their first biological child together. Joseph had two children from a previous marriage: both boys. Gerald and Edwin are their names. Gerald is the eldest. And then there was Nadine. She is, in actuality, my cousin on my mothers side who was adopt...

Hey bubblies, I took an expected trip through the net today and happened to lay eyes on this hopelessly romantic paragraph. I wanted to share with all, singletons and attached both.  Relax your facial muscles because  the following is sure to put a smile on your face! I’m often perceived as visually “put-together” or styled in a way that is unapproachable and untouchable. Here I was, blessed with the very real possibility of my first second date in over a year and a half and goshdarnit I wanted to be touchable! I wanted to have shaken-out hair that I could casually flip and tuck behind one ear as I leaned in for a conspiratorial chuckle at some shared observation, and maybe it would fall from behind my ear and my date would reach out and tuck it back again and just then a bluebird would flutter in and land on my outstretched index finger and the bluebird and I would sing a lovely duet and then my date would join in on the third verse and I would wonder how he knew the so...