May 25: Addie is still licking herself raw. She stopped focusing purely on her stomach and has now added one of the pads of her front right paw. Now when we leave, we have to put on both the life vest and a shoe that makes her limp around the apartment. She is slowly becoming a pirate.
May 26: Through this entire school year, I have managed to dodge all illnesses. I escaped every flu and virus that existed in the Petri dish that is this school. Then I get taken down by one weekend with Nick. The dogs seem to realize we are sick and have spent all day cuddling us. They even split up to keep track of us when we go to different rooms. Addie remained in the bedroom while Nick napped and George followed me into the living room to watch TV.
May 27: The Monet exhibit featured paintings from the later years of Monet’s life. They comprised mainly of his famed paintings of Lillies and the bridge that curved over his garden pond. There was a series painted during the time his cataracts rendered him nearly blind. They were colorful and haphazard. Most of the time, I couldn’t tell what it was supposed to depict until I either took off my glasses or looked at it from across the room.
May 28: Vivi and Maria were out sick today. Ana took Maria’s class and Vivi’s students were split up amongst the rest of our classes. Dea’madja got ahold of my speaker with the suction cup and immediately pushed it against his eye. Then Noelia did the same. They both started crying because of how much it hurt to pull the speaker off. I finally calmed them down and got them to run cold water over their closed eyes to help with the pain. My kids didn’t help. They kept pointing out that one eye was now bigger than the other. This was because the irritated eye kept squinting, but it convinced Dea’madja and Noelia that their eyeball had popped out of its socket.
Or
Fireworks have been going off for over ten minutes because a Giants’ game has just ended. We didn’t even win. I guess it is a display of the sad fireworks.
May 29: Mom sent out a group text message to me and my brothers. It read “Your brown grandma is dying. Wanted to remind you of her.”
May 30: Benjamin held out a loose tooth towards me. “I found this in my celery. It isn’t mine.” He showed me his loose tooth, which was still barely holding on. I didn’t know what to do in that situation, so I called Melissa over. She asked him to check the rest of his mouth. Turns out, a tooth on the other side of his mouth that wasn’t even loose popped out without him realizing it.
May 31: There is no cure for homesickness. I house a place in my head as my embodiment of home. It’s a collection of sunny days, the smoothie shop I always went to, and the people I used to play soccer with in the street. But so much time passes in between my visits that each time I come home, I recognize it less and less.
much love,
hedgie
Friday, May 31, 2019
Friday, May 24, 2019
a dog, but both ends are a butt
May 17: For the third year in a row, Abel didn’t want to attend the March To College, but was signed up for it anyway. Halfway through the walk, he stopped supporting his head and let it flop around on top of his neck. He walked so slowly that we were being overtaken by the mothers pushing strollers and holding the hand of lettering toddlers. But as soon as the pizza came out, he was fast as lightning, disappearing for a second slice in the few moments it took for Melissa to hand me my sign out sheet.
May 18: Katie never played MASH in elementary school, so Heidi and I decided to show her how it’s done. It’s surprisingly difficult to fill out all the categories. It took her a full five minutes to come up with three possible husbands. In the end, she ended up marrying Mike Pence, having 23 kids with him in their apartment. She drove a jeep to her job being a professional surfer and her pet is Dobby, but both ends are a butt.
May 19: The neighbors across from us have put a Trump piñata in their window. It just sits there with its arms outstretched onto the sill and a look of horror on its face. It scares me every time I see it when I cross the living room because it looks like someone staring in at us.
May 20: During meditation, Valerye and Gwendolyn were huddled in the corner. Valerie tried to get my attention. “Miss Heather, do you want to smell something?”
I said no without looking up from my sign out sheet. Nothing good could ever come from that question.
May 21: When I came in to work, Jen was alone in the bungalow. She started talking about how Sirprince had threatened to bring a backpack of knives and kill all the teachers in the school. The chair next to her moved and Fernando popped his head out from behind his jacket to add a comment. His power naps are now so stealthy I spent ten minutes in a room with him without even realizing that he was there.
May 22: The school is holding the Caine’s Arcade event on Friday. The upper grades make games out of cardboard boxes for the younger grades and let them win prizes. Cardboard boxes have been abandoned in the hallways all week. It has brought out the cat in Abel. Every day this week when I have come out of pick up, he is sitting inside of a box and refuses to come out. He tries to scoot it forward only to rip it apart within minutes.
May 23: Today, Maria told her students that she wouldn’t be returning next year. They asked her, what about the year after that?
May 24: Jen has been running up and down the stairs all day to deal with Adrian. She asked me for a Tylenol as soon as I came in because her left buttcheek won’t stop twitching. She is starting to suspect that it is now her superpower, her spidey-sense. Her butt can tell when Adrian is up to no good.
much love,
hedgie
May 18: Katie never played MASH in elementary school, so Heidi and I decided to show her how it’s done. It’s surprisingly difficult to fill out all the categories. It took her a full five minutes to come up with three possible husbands. In the end, she ended up marrying Mike Pence, having 23 kids with him in their apartment. She drove a jeep to her job being a professional surfer and her pet is Dobby, but both ends are a butt.
May 19: The neighbors across from us have put a Trump piñata in their window. It just sits there with its arms outstretched onto the sill and a look of horror on its face. It scares me every time I see it when I cross the living room because it looks like someone staring in at us.
May 20: During meditation, Valerye and Gwendolyn were huddled in the corner. Valerie tried to get my attention. “Miss Heather, do you want to smell something?”
I said no without looking up from my sign out sheet. Nothing good could ever come from that question.
May 21: When I came in to work, Jen was alone in the bungalow. She started talking about how Sirprince had threatened to bring a backpack of knives and kill all the teachers in the school. The chair next to her moved and Fernando popped his head out from behind his jacket to add a comment. His power naps are now so stealthy I spent ten minutes in a room with him without even realizing that he was there.
May 22: The school is holding the Caine’s Arcade event on Friday. The upper grades make games out of cardboard boxes for the younger grades and let them win prizes. Cardboard boxes have been abandoned in the hallways all week. It has brought out the cat in Abel. Every day this week when I have come out of pick up, he is sitting inside of a box and refuses to come out. He tries to scoot it forward only to rip it apart within minutes.
May 23: Today, Maria told her students that she wouldn’t be returning next year. They asked her, what about the year after that?
May 24: Jen has been running up and down the stairs all day to deal with Adrian. She asked me for a Tylenol as soon as I came in because her left buttcheek won’t stop twitching. She is starting to suspect that it is now her superpower, her spidey-sense. Her butt can tell when Adrian is up to no good.
much love,
hedgie
Thursday, May 16, 2019
where the blood was
May 9: A window on the third story got broken today. It took so many teachers to keep kids away from it. Adrian was with us when we got the news and he immediately ran outside, asking where the blood was. They had to break the rest of the window completely out of the sill and place a woodblock to cover it so no kid would stick their finger in it and cut themselves.
May 10: While getting everyone ready to head back to the school after Field Day, a fight broke out. Fernando saw Teacher P. grab one of the students by the arm and yell at them to stop. By recess, the kid was telling other kids that Teacher P. had grabbed him by the middle and was shaking him so hard that his lunch was coming back up his throat and making it hard for him to breath. By the time the rumor was overheard by teachers and they could attempt to put a stop to it, it had turned into a story about how Teacher P. had chocked a student.
May 11: It’s weird to have emotional baggage when you’re in a relationship with someone who wants to help, but knows nothing of what it’s like to carry all that weight. It’s like having a suitcase superglued to your hand. You tell the person that if they went out and got some nail polish remover, it could really help you out. So they go out, but they come back with a bouquet of roses. It’s very nice of them, of course, but it doesn’t help you do what is needed. Then they just get upset that you still have the suitcase and frustrated that their kind efforts aren’t being appreciated.
May 12: My first memory of Mother’s Day was of me and my brothers helping dad set up lunch for mom in the living room of the house in LA. It was the first time I had ever seen sushi and I was so confused by the little bright orange balls on top. I thought it might be some kind of sprinkles and couldn’t understand it when dad explained they were actually fish eggs.
May 13: Last week, Luna found a bunch of noodles in the sink when she went to get a drink of water. They are still there. I also found a raw, loose potato. A new stem was growing out of one of its eyes. How long has it been here?
May 14: Adrian was having a particularly bad day. He ran away from Mr. Powers and slipped into the bungalow. Mr. Fernando opened his arms wide and asked Adrian for a hug. When Adrian ran over to him and hugged him, Fernando wrapped his arms around his middle, picked him up, and carried him back outside.
May 15: Snapchat has released a filter that can switch a user from a man to a woman or a woman to a man. Maria tried it on me. I looked exactly like Ryan, but with glasses.
May 16: Before the applause died down at the end of Hamilton, both Katie and Heidi told me they now understood my obsession with it and why I kept insisting on playing it during road trips. Heidi bought the CD and Katie bought the book that goes through how the musical was made. As soon as we got to our apartment, we played the original cast recording on the Google Home and took turns reading out little factoids to each other from Katie’s book.
much love,
hedgie
May 10: While getting everyone ready to head back to the school after Field Day, a fight broke out. Fernando saw Teacher P. grab one of the students by the arm and yell at them to stop. By recess, the kid was telling other kids that Teacher P. had grabbed him by the middle and was shaking him so hard that his lunch was coming back up his throat and making it hard for him to breath. By the time the rumor was overheard by teachers and they could attempt to put a stop to it, it had turned into a story about how Teacher P. had chocked a student.
May 11: It’s weird to have emotional baggage when you’re in a relationship with someone who wants to help, but knows nothing of what it’s like to carry all that weight. It’s like having a suitcase superglued to your hand. You tell the person that if they went out and got some nail polish remover, it could really help you out. So they go out, but they come back with a bouquet of roses. It’s very nice of them, of course, but it doesn’t help you do what is needed. Then they just get upset that you still have the suitcase and frustrated that their kind efforts aren’t being appreciated.
May 12: My first memory of Mother’s Day was of me and my brothers helping dad set up lunch for mom in the living room of the house in LA. It was the first time I had ever seen sushi and I was so confused by the little bright orange balls on top. I thought it might be some kind of sprinkles and couldn’t understand it when dad explained they were actually fish eggs.
May 13: Last week, Luna found a bunch of noodles in the sink when she went to get a drink of water. They are still there. I also found a raw, loose potato. A new stem was growing out of one of its eyes. How long has it been here?
May 14: Adrian was having a particularly bad day. He ran away from Mr. Powers and slipped into the bungalow. Mr. Fernando opened his arms wide and asked Adrian for a hug. When Adrian ran over to him and hugged him, Fernando wrapped his arms around his middle, picked him up, and carried him back outside.
May 15: Snapchat has released a filter that can switch a user from a man to a woman or a woman to a man. Maria tried it on me. I looked exactly like Ryan, but with glasses.
May 16: Before the applause died down at the end of Hamilton, both Katie and Heidi told me they now understood my obsession with it and why I kept insisting on playing it during road trips. Heidi bought the CD and Katie bought the book that goes through how the musical was made. As soon as we got to our apartment, we played the original cast recording on the Google Home and took turns reading out little factoids to each other from Katie’s book.
much love,
hedgie
Wednesday, May 8, 2019
sorry, bitch.
May 1: A first grader was sent to spend lunch with us in the bungalow because he wouldn’t stop shouting ’shut up bitch’. His day teacher tried to deal with this by ignoring him. That just made him yell it louder. When he came to our bungalow, he told Ana he would fuck her up. Then he apologized by saying “sorry, bitch”.
May 2: I brought in two tubs of play dough as one of my after-homework centers. They were bright orange and a murky yellow that had pulled up dirt from tabletops and mixed together with a little of an old brown play dough. Within five minutes, my kids pointed out that these colors were all they needed to make Trump out of play dough.
May 3: Abel has been borrowing books from the library six at a time. I repeatedly told him to only take one book out of the classroom with him, but he insists on carrying all of them all day long. He won’t put them in his backpack, so he shoves all of them into the front pocket of his sweater as if I won’t notice the giant bulge sagging from his stomach like a mother kangaroo carrying her baby.
May 4: Even when I do take a break from seeing Nick’s family, I still am not completely free of them. They don’t notice me or talk to me when I do go, but they all take notice when I’m not there. They will ask where I am, what I’m doing, and tell Nick to say that they missed me. I don’t believe them when they say these things, but Nick still does.
May 5: After the final movie of the Silent Film Festival, Nick and I walked a few blocks away from the Castro Theater to find a better spot for calling Lyft. Due to the rampant day drinking, in the three blocks we walked through, we saw a group of men taking selfies while standing on the solid double yellow lines in the middle of the road and three couple having very loud and public breakups.
May 6: The community circle question was about what we would wish for if we were granted three wishes. It amazed me how they could go wildly from wishing for big ad mundane things. David wished for a million dollars and a new pair of shoes because the one he was wearing were dirty. Joanna wanted to become a famous dancer and for her brother to be nicer to her. Orlando wanted unlimited wishes and to not have to share a bedroom with his brother.
May 7: Today is Melissa’s birthday, so we spent our morning going about the regular Mission Graduate birthday tradition: knowing for weeks the birthday was coming up, but scrambling at the last minute to come up with presents. Jen dug in her prize box and brought out packets of Tajin, a bead bracelet, and a plastic tiger. Abel had stolen all of our regular balloons, so I made a balloon dog. Maria made a balloon worm. The flowers Ana bought her had to be put in a water pitcher because we didn’t have a vase.
May 8: I’ve been called by a lot of names during my years at this school, and not just bad ones when kids are angry at me for making them practice lines or apologize to the person they punched in the face. I have been called by every teacher’s name, even the male ones. I have been called “mom” by almost all of my students at one point. Today, Abel called me “grandma”. That one hurt.
much love,
hedgie
May 2: I brought in two tubs of play dough as one of my after-homework centers. They were bright orange and a murky yellow that had pulled up dirt from tabletops and mixed together with a little of an old brown play dough. Within five minutes, my kids pointed out that these colors were all they needed to make Trump out of play dough.
May 3: Abel has been borrowing books from the library six at a time. I repeatedly told him to only take one book out of the classroom with him, but he insists on carrying all of them all day long. He won’t put them in his backpack, so he shoves all of them into the front pocket of his sweater as if I won’t notice the giant bulge sagging from his stomach like a mother kangaroo carrying her baby.
May 4: Even when I do take a break from seeing Nick’s family, I still am not completely free of them. They don’t notice me or talk to me when I do go, but they all take notice when I’m not there. They will ask where I am, what I’m doing, and tell Nick to say that they missed me. I don’t believe them when they say these things, but Nick still does.
May 5: After the final movie of the Silent Film Festival, Nick and I walked a few blocks away from the Castro Theater to find a better spot for calling Lyft. Due to the rampant day drinking, in the three blocks we walked through, we saw a group of men taking selfies while standing on the solid double yellow lines in the middle of the road and three couple having very loud and public breakups.
May 6: The community circle question was about what we would wish for if we were granted three wishes. It amazed me how they could go wildly from wishing for big ad mundane things. David wished for a million dollars and a new pair of shoes because the one he was wearing were dirty. Joanna wanted to become a famous dancer and for her brother to be nicer to her. Orlando wanted unlimited wishes and to not have to share a bedroom with his brother.
May 7: Today is Melissa’s birthday, so we spent our morning going about the regular Mission Graduate birthday tradition: knowing for weeks the birthday was coming up, but scrambling at the last minute to come up with presents. Jen dug in her prize box and brought out packets of Tajin, a bead bracelet, and a plastic tiger. Abel had stolen all of our regular balloons, so I made a balloon dog. Maria made a balloon worm. The flowers Ana bought her had to be put in a water pitcher because we didn’t have a vase.
May 8: I’ve been called by a lot of names during my years at this school, and not just bad ones when kids are angry at me for making them practice lines or apologize to the person they punched in the face. I have been called by every teacher’s name, even the male ones. I have been called “mom” by almost all of my students at one point. Today, Abel called me “grandma”. That one hurt.
much love,
hedgie
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