July 25: Today, we saw two Bernese Mountain Dog puppies that were so excited to meet Addie that they dragged the bench they were attached to about ten feet before their owners saw them through the restaurant window and ran outside to stop them.
July 26: The sign posted by the San Francisco Police Department suggested that in order to prevent theft, we should follow the following steps: lock your car, take your keys, hide your belongings, and fill a decoy purse with thousands of angry, poisonous bees.
July 27: There was a guy two rows behind us who yelled “I’ve got it!” after every hit, regardless of where the ball actually went. It went on the whole night and it was impossible to tell if he was doing it for all the people who arrived to their seats late or because he thought it was that fun every time. Either way, I can’t picture him being invited to games by the same person twice.
July 28: There were three types of execution coin-operated mechanical devices at Musee Mecanique. There was a French one, an English one, and a just plain execution one. They all had different settings, but all involved doors opening to a building and watching a tiny, wooden man be hanged before the doors swung shut again.
July 29: Nick ran about 45 miles before I even got out of bed this morning, so who is the real winner here?
July 30: Whenever she went to go visit them, they were kind for a brief moment while they said hello in the doorway and Matt was still at her side. But their attitude soured almost immediately after shaking her hand, as if they were expecting her to slip them a twenty and she had stiffed them once again.
July 31: Nick asked me multiple times if I fed the dogs. I told him that I did and was absolutely positive about it. A few minutes later, Addie vomited up her partly digested dinner.
“See? Told you I did it.”
much love,
hedgie
Tuesday, July 31, 2018
Tuesday, July 24, 2018
swagger
July 17: Sabrina called it “The Reckoning”. She didn’t mean to scare Olivia with it, but she did. It was the time in Olivia’s life when Saturn was returning to the spot it was when she was born. It takes 29.5 years, and when it does this, the person is supposed to enter the next phase of their lives. It’s a make it or break it stage. Olivia was not a big believer in astrology, but Sabrina couldn’t get enough of it. When she was introduced to people, she would forget their names, but remember their birthdays for years afterwards. While shopping for prom dresses, Sabrina once watched her friend admire herself in a red, backless dress in the store’s mirror. She smiled knowingly and whispered, “Such a libra.”
July 18: At around three in the morning, a man went around the dark street screaming ‘fuck you’ at nothing and throwing our trashcans as far across the street as he could.
July 19: An older man stood in my path as I walked the dogs. He pointed a shaking finger and George and smiled. “That dog walks with swagger.”
July 20: I was put in charge of the spin art station. I would fit the cardboard stock into place and have the kids choose their colors before I closed the lids and turned on the spin feature. The kids would so carefully layer bright colors in the center, but just at the end, squeeze a bottle too hard and coat the entire thing in blue and have to start the process over again.
July 21: Koa was dropped off for the weekend. I went through his travel bag and arranged his things on the kitchen table to take inventory. There was a bag of his dog food, a smaller bag of meat-free treats, two stiffed animals, and an inflatable vest. In case we went sailing on Saturday?
July 22: For a week, I thought the apartment next door had been infiltrated by a rat or a raccoon. There was always skittering sound paired with a dragging one, which made me think it was something small and low-slung. Turns out that its the new neighbors’ pug that is mostly blind and has leg problems.
July 23: In a solitary setting, I feel free to let my mind wander. The vast majority of my ideas come from when I am alone and think about how the urban legend of cow tipping started. It allows my mind to wonder “what ifs” without restraints like what if a child’s pet dies and their parent isn’t ready to discuss death? Being alone with my thoughts churns up old memories, such as the last time I saw my grandfather. I also get the majority of my writing done alone, where I can focus solely on words and ideas. My co-workers and I meet weekly to brainstorm everything from ideas for electives to dealing with overaggressive ICE agents. I love seeing the way people interact and what they are passionate about. I am inspired by the way other people’s minds work. It also feels good when I can give out advice that can help someone add a little silliness to their lesson or avoid learning things the hard way. We all have different strong points that make us stronger together. Our jobs can also be very stressful. We share our fears and struggles that come up with our work. Sometimes just being in a room full of people in the same situation is enough to make all of us feel strong enough to continue.
July 24: I was happy before The Library Book. I loved my job and knew what I wanted. Now I want to quit my job and become a librarian.
much love,
hedgie
July 18: At around three in the morning, a man went around the dark street screaming ‘fuck you’ at nothing and throwing our trashcans as far across the street as he could.
July 19: An older man stood in my path as I walked the dogs. He pointed a shaking finger and George and smiled. “That dog walks with swagger.”
July 20: I was put in charge of the spin art station. I would fit the cardboard stock into place and have the kids choose their colors before I closed the lids and turned on the spin feature. The kids would so carefully layer bright colors in the center, but just at the end, squeeze a bottle too hard and coat the entire thing in blue and have to start the process over again.
July 21: Koa was dropped off for the weekend. I went through his travel bag and arranged his things on the kitchen table to take inventory. There was a bag of his dog food, a smaller bag of meat-free treats, two stiffed animals, and an inflatable vest. In case we went sailing on Saturday?
July 22: For a week, I thought the apartment next door had been infiltrated by a rat or a raccoon. There was always skittering sound paired with a dragging one, which made me think it was something small and low-slung. Turns out that its the new neighbors’ pug that is mostly blind and has leg problems.
July 23: In a solitary setting, I feel free to let my mind wander. The vast majority of my ideas come from when I am alone and think about how the urban legend of cow tipping started. It allows my mind to wonder “what ifs” without restraints like what if a child’s pet dies and their parent isn’t ready to discuss death? Being alone with my thoughts churns up old memories, such as the last time I saw my grandfather. I also get the majority of my writing done alone, where I can focus solely on words and ideas. My co-workers and I meet weekly to brainstorm everything from ideas for electives to dealing with overaggressive ICE agents. I love seeing the way people interact and what they are passionate about. I am inspired by the way other people’s minds work. It also feels good when I can give out advice that can help someone add a little silliness to their lesson or avoid learning things the hard way. We all have different strong points that make us stronger together. Our jobs can also be very stressful. We share our fears and struggles that come up with our work. Sometimes just being in a room full of people in the same situation is enough to make all of us feel strong enough to continue.
July 24: I was happy before The Library Book. I loved my job and knew what I wanted. Now I want to quit my job and become a librarian.
much love,
hedgie
Monday, July 16, 2018
all-alaskan racing pigs
July 9: Raven and I were disappointed to see the lack of sentence-long titles in the romance section of Barnes & Noble. We gave up trying to find the silliest sounding title and took a break in the cafe where we brainstormed name ideas for her proposed Etsy store and a girl at the next table did five minute sketches of our poses.
July 10: I have learned to sleep through garbage trucks, school bells, and angry people picking fights with a mailbox dropbox. But in the suburbs, I had trouble falling asleep here because it is too quiet. I woke up in the middle of the night and was unable to drift back to sleep because the silence felt so empty, like I was completely alone in the dark stillness.
July 11: We took all the dogs out for a walk and one block of the sidewalk was suddenly infested wit the most amount of cockroaches I had ever seen in my life. We yanked on the dogs’ leashes and urged them forward. We took quick steps to get out of there and hoped that whatever crunch we felt under our feet were just berries from the trees around us.
July 12: Heidi spent weeks picking and drying saffron during her time in Italy, but had never eaten any because of how expensive it is. We made a full dinner using saffron in everything and it took two days for me to convince her to just try one piece by itself to see what it tasted like.
July 13: We sat around the living room table playing tv show theme songs and trying to see who could recognize it the fastest. It did not work out as well as I had hoped when I played the theme to Bill Nye the Science Guy.
July 14: The All-Alaskan racing pigs were surprisingly graceful as they ran around the sawdust track. When they leapt over the hurdles, their legs stretched out and their ears tucked behind their heads to make them more aerodynamic like expertly folded paper airplanes.
July 15: Carl Baldwin was barefoot as he led us around The Velveteria. The velvet paintings ranged from the expected unicorns and sad clowns to truly beautiful portraits of backlit women and an Egyptian sarcophagus. There was an Elvis corner, a wall of freaks, a blacklight room, a room full of naked women, and a bathroom filled with paintings of various political figures on the John.
July 16: We listened to Eddie Izzard’s autobiography on the drive back to San Francisco. It was like having a really chatty friend in the backseat that wouldn’t let us get a word into the conversation.
much love,
hedgie
July 10: I have learned to sleep through garbage trucks, school bells, and angry people picking fights with a mailbox dropbox. But in the suburbs, I had trouble falling asleep here because it is too quiet. I woke up in the middle of the night and was unable to drift back to sleep because the silence felt so empty, like I was completely alone in the dark stillness.
July 11: We took all the dogs out for a walk and one block of the sidewalk was suddenly infested wit the most amount of cockroaches I had ever seen in my life. We yanked on the dogs’ leashes and urged them forward. We took quick steps to get out of there and hoped that whatever crunch we felt under our feet were just berries from the trees around us.
July 12: Heidi spent weeks picking and drying saffron during her time in Italy, but had never eaten any because of how expensive it is. We made a full dinner using saffron in everything and it took two days for me to convince her to just try one piece by itself to see what it tasted like.
July 13: We sat around the living room table playing tv show theme songs and trying to see who could recognize it the fastest. It did not work out as well as I had hoped when I played the theme to Bill Nye the Science Guy.
July 14: The All-Alaskan racing pigs were surprisingly graceful as they ran around the sawdust track. When they leapt over the hurdles, their legs stretched out and their ears tucked behind their heads to make them more aerodynamic like expertly folded paper airplanes.
July 15: Carl Baldwin was barefoot as he led us around The Velveteria. The velvet paintings ranged from the expected unicorns and sad clowns to truly beautiful portraits of backlit women and an Egyptian sarcophagus. There was an Elvis corner, a wall of freaks, a blacklight room, a room full of naked women, and a bathroom filled with paintings of various political figures on the John.
July 16: We listened to Eddie Izzard’s autobiography on the drive back to San Francisco. It was like having a really chatty friend in the backseat that wouldn’t let us get a word into the conversation.
much love,
hedgie
Sunday, July 8, 2018
vital organs and serial killers
July 1: I closed the car door in San Francisco and opened it again in a town where the temperature was in the triple digits. This just can’t be legal. Everything time I tried to think, it would be interrupted by “it’s so fucking hot here”.
July 2: I may get a lot of heat for this as a Californian, but I recognize that In-N-Out is not the best hamburger in the world. But there is a reason we are all obsessed it with it. It’s fast, cheap, and tasty. We wound up eating it often, especially in high school. Now it has reached the point where it’s like your own family’s cooking. It tastes like home.
July 3: We watched the Columbia/England FIFA match at the bar of Oggi’s. The line of TVs above our head were seven seconds behind the other line of TVs along the wall behind us. We waited impatiently to see the outcome of the shootout. The goalie from Barcelona was jumping up and down in the goal while the kicker from England was waiting for the whistle when people all around the bar started screaming at England’s goal.
July 4: Heidi’s neighbors set their fireworks on a board set across the tops of two ladders so that colorful sparks rained down on the children. They ran away screaming and unscathed. The people a few streets down who always manage to get their hands on illegal fireworks every year shot them so low that the bang of explosions was strong enough to set off car alarms.
July 5: A hurricane in Mexico created a rip tide so strong at Laguna Beach that the lifeguard told us we weren’t allowed to go farther than waist-deep in the water. They had already had to rescue three people who got caught in it that morning.
July 6: Nick took us all to Google to escape the heat today. Whenever I open up a social media app, all I see are screenshots of today’s over 105 degree temperature.
July 7: Heidi was on her third plastic cup of chardonnay and was dancing down the sidewalks of The Sawdust Festival, past the art booth where her mom does all the framing. Zydeco music drifted through the shafts of light that poured between tree branches.
July 8: After dinner, a few of us hung around on the benches outside of The Yard House to catch up for a little while longer. We talked mostly about videos of people using dildos so long that we were worried about that person’s vital organs and serial killers. I missed this group.
much love,
hedgie
July 2: I may get a lot of heat for this as a Californian, but I recognize that In-N-Out is not the best hamburger in the world. But there is a reason we are all obsessed it with it. It’s fast, cheap, and tasty. We wound up eating it often, especially in high school. Now it has reached the point where it’s like your own family’s cooking. It tastes like home.
July 3: We watched the Columbia/England FIFA match at the bar of Oggi’s. The line of TVs above our head were seven seconds behind the other line of TVs along the wall behind us. We waited impatiently to see the outcome of the shootout. The goalie from Barcelona was jumping up and down in the goal while the kicker from England was waiting for the whistle when people all around the bar started screaming at England’s goal.
July 4: Heidi’s neighbors set their fireworks on a board set across the tops of two ladders so that colorful sparks rained down on the children. They ran away screaming and unscathed. The people a few streets down who always manage to get their hands on illegal fireworks every year shot them so low that the bang of explosions was strong enough to set off car alarms.
July 5: A hurricane in Mexico created a rip tide so strong at Laguna Beach that the lifeguard told us we weren’t allowed to go farther than waist-deep in the water. They had already had to rescue three people who got caught in it that morning.
July 6: Nick took us all to Google to escape the heat today. Whenever I open up a social media app, all I see are screenshots of today’s over 105 degree temperature.
July 7: Heidi was on her third plastic cup of chardonnay and was dancing down the sidewalks of The Sawdust Festival, past the art booth where her mom does all the framing. Zydeco music drifted through the shafts of light that poured between tree branches.
July 8: After dinner, a few of us hung around on the benches outside of The Yard House to catch up for a little while longer. We talked mostly about videos of people using dildos so long that we were worried about that person’s vital organs and serial killers. I missed this group.
much love,
hedgie
Saturday, June 30, 2018
a single tooth
June 24: Nick has family that he met for the first time this weekend, even though they live only an hour away from every member of the family that he does see. Talking to one of his second cousins, she seemed not to understand this either and was saddened by it. She’s a sophomore in high school and it is already her dream to marry into a big, close family that sees each other every holiday.
June 25: Words were beginning to elude him. He would stop halfway through a sentence when he completely forgot the exact word it was that he wanted to say. It was like how kids would tie a dollar bill to the end of a fishing line and yank it away just as he was about to reach it.
June 26: I don’t think spending all day alone is agreeing with me. Today, I made a Rainbow Sherbet float with Sprite and ended up eating three of them.
June 27: I wanted to do the What The Fluff Challenge to Addie. It’s a video prank where people get their dog’s attention and hold up a blanket in between them. They lower it a few times to show their dog they are still there. Then they throw it up into the air and hide behind something, giving the appearance they have vanished as the blanket falls down. Addie didn’t fall for it. She just immediately ran to where I was hiding in the bathroom.
June 28: She was still in the process of learning Spanish. She came in knowing enough that when she overheard them talking shit on another student, she could glare at them across the room and say, “yo escuché eco” and watch the look of panic flash across their faces. She practiced everyday with free apps on her phone and they taught her helpful phrases like “the monkey with no shadow”, “the police found blood on the floor”, and “I am a cat. Do you want money?”. Apps made it difficult to deal with pronunciation. She either didn’t roll her r’s at all or rolled them way to much, which always left her more bilingual students in hysterics. The kids who grew up with Spanish and were slowly learning English over the school year were quick to defend her.
June 29: The couple next door is moving out. Now with the second kid, they just can’t deal with a one-bedroom apartment even though rent control has saved them so much money. With the apartment nearly empty, they let us stop by and see their place. It was like being in an episode of The Twilight Zone. Everything the same, but flipped around.
June 30: A man with slicked back hair and a thick Brooklyn accent pulled Christiana aside. He leaned in close to her and whispered that a friend told him about the guy that was giving her some trouble. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He opened it up to reveal a single tooth. He handed it to her with a quiet smile. “He won’t be bothering you anymore.”
much love,
hedgie
June 25: Words were beginning to elude him. He would stop halfway through a sentence when he completely forgot the exact word it was that he wanted to say. It was like how kids would tie a dollar bill to the end of a fishing line and yank it away just as he was about to reach it.
June 26: I don’t think spending all day alone is agreeing with me. Today, I made a Rainbow Sherbet float with Sprite and ended up eating three of them.
June 27: I wanted to do the What The Fluff Challenge to Addie. It’s a video prank where people get their dog’s attention and hold up a blanket in between them. They lower it a few times to show their dog they are still there. Then they throw it up into the air and hide behind something, giving the appearance they have vanished as the blanket falls down. Addie didn’t fall for it. She just immediately ran to where I was hiding in the bathroom.
June 28: She was still in the process of learning Spanish. She came in knowing enough that when she overheard them talking shit on another student, she could glare at them across the room and say, “yo escuché eco” and watch the look of panic flash across their faces. She practiced everyday with free apps on her phone and they taught her helpful phrases like “the monkey with no shadow”, “the police found blood on the floor”, and “I am a cat. Do you want money?”. Apps made it difficult to deal with pronunciation. She either didn’t roll her r’s at all or rolled them way to much, which always left her more bilingual students in hysterics. The kids who grew up with Spanish and were slowly learning English over the school year were quick to defend her.
June 29: The couple next door is moving out. Now with the second kid, they just can’t deal with a one-bedroom apartment even though rent control has saved them so much money. With the apartment nearly empty, they let us stop by and see their place. It was like being in an episode of The Twilight Zone. Everything the same, but flipped around.
June 30: A man with slicked back hair and a thick Brooklyn accent pulled Christiana aside. He leaned in close to her and whispered that a friend told him about the guy that was giving her some trouble. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He opened it up to reveal a single tooth. He handed it to her with a quiet smile. “He won’t be bothering you anymore.”
much love,
hedgie
Saturday, June 23, 2018
YASSSS
June 17: I do believe in soulmates, but my view of it differs from the movies where two people meet and everyone instantly knows that they are meant to get married, have babies, and grow old together. I think soulmates are just those meant to be in your life because they make you want to be the best person you can be. So I also don’t think that it’s necessarily romantic or that you are limited to one. I think family, friends, and pets can be soulmates. A soulmate isn’t an effortless and instant connection. You have to work hard to make a soulmate together.
June 18: Every inch of every social media format is loaded with photos of screaming children confined in cages when they were separated from their parents in a Texas immigration facility. On top of that are the thousands of people commenting that these kids deserve to be treated like animals because that is what they are. Some have even suggested putting them down because it would be more humane. I don’t think I want to be a human being anymore. They are so awful.
June 19: The MC in between rounds of burlesque acts had more fans than any one person should probably own. Most had words printed across them like “YASSSS” and “Daddy”. He also had one that was large enough for him to completely hide behind that he used multiple times to fake a growing erection.
June 20: I’m having so much trouble figuring out who Miles and Irving are in this book. Which is strange, because I don’t have that issue with Olivia or Sabrina. And I didn’t have the problem when I created Maybel and George in the other book. For a few minutes, it makes me feel like an awful writer, but then I remember how so many male writers portray female characters as little more than a set of boobs on legs and then I don’t feel as bad.
June 21: Today was my first day not taking an afternoon nap since school let out. I don’t think I like it.
June 22: I had forgotten how stressful Jenga could be. Slowly wiggling that tiny wooden block back and forth until it finally slipped free, not even aware that I had been holding my breath until I placed it on top of the decrepit tower.
June 23: He looked like the typical American dad in any daytime show. No matter the situation, he choose to wear worn out sneakers, cargo shorts, and oversized shirts that came free from breweries that tended to feature bikini clad women and came in bright colors that were flattering on absolutely no one.
much love,
hedgie
June 18: Every inch of every social media format is loaded with photos of screaming children confined in cages when they were separated from their parents in a Texas immigration facility. On top of that are the thousands of people commenting that these kids deserve to be treated like animals because that is what they are. Some have even suggested putting them down because it would be more humane. I don’t think I want to be a human being anymore. They are so awful.
June 19: The MC in between rounds of burlesque acts had more fans than any one person should probably own. Most had words printed across them like “YASSSS” and “Daddy”. He also had one that was large enough for him to completely hide behind that he used multiple times to fake a growing erection.
June 20: I’m having so much trouble figuring out who Miles and Irving are in this book. Which is strange, because I don’t have that issue with Olivia or Sabrina. And I didn’t have the problem when I created Maybel and George in the other book. For a few minutes, it makes me feel like an awful writer, but then I remember how so many male writers portray female characters as little more than a set of boobs on legs and then I don’t feel as bad.
June 21: Today was my first day not taking an afternoon nap since school let out. I don’t think I like it.
June 22: I had forgotten how stressful Jenga could be. Slowly wiggling that tiny wooden block back and forth until it finally slipped free, not even aware that I had been holding my breath until I placed it on top of the decrepit tower.
June 23: He looked like the typical American dad in any daytime show. No matter the situation, he choose to wear worn out sneakers, cargo shorts, and oversized shirts that came free from breweries that tended to feature bikini clad women and came in bright colors that were flattering on absolutely no one.
much love,
hedgie
Saturday, June 16, 2018
this is why everyone thinks you're a serial killer
June 9: He had a mouth that had no defined lines for where his lips began, it was like he had scrubbed them clean away with the rough side of a dish sponge until his mouth was raw and tinged red.
June 10: Whenever a San Francisco team wins a championship, the city erupts into chaos. Her phone updates her with stories of people climbing Muni buses and setting them on fire. But she was always at a distance from them, just making out the bangs of illegal fireworks and the deep thrum of a helicopter patrolling while she tried to remember what sports season it even was.
June 11: Almost every adult in her family worked in education while she was growing up. Over summers, they would take road trips and give each one a theme as they traced the California coast. One road trip, they visited every lighthouse they could drive to. On another, they visited haunted houses. One summer, they took up train spotting. She grew up thinking that was how jobs worked. They all had summers off, but you could choose to have a different summer job if money was tight. Discovering that most jobs went year-round was the most disappointing realization of her adult life.
June 12: It’s only the first week of summer break and I have already lost track of what day it is.
June 13: Information from the true crime fact bank in the back of her mind came up three times at dinner. While looking out at the water, it was suggested that this would be a good place to dump a body. She disagreed, thinking that there were deeper and more remote bodies of water for that. She also knew the answer when asked if pigs could really eat their way through an entire corpse. The pigs could potentially do it, they have the ability to eat bones, the question was more dependent on if you found a group of pigs willing to do it. Then she was able to rattle off the addresses of nearby murders.
“See, this is why everyone thinks you are a serial killer.”
June 14: The windows to the place were blocked out with posters of dancing women. It was made to look like the women were dancing behind frosted glass, so the rounder parts of them were black and in sharp focus while the less interesting parts of their bodies were blurry and fading away. She supposed it was meant to look sexy and suggestive, but to her, it just made the place look haunted.
June 15: At the Exploratorium, you can make a bubble wall. There is a giant rig filled with bubble bath solution where if you pull gently on a rope, you can lift a giant rectangle of rainbow film. The whole thing would be about five feet tall and five feet wide if my kids could control themselves at all. When they watch one kids pull the string, they pop it before it even gets a foot tall. Then when it is their turn, they don’t foresee that the other kids will do the same exact thing. They get so mad when their own bubble is popped that after three trips here with kids, I have to pull them away after five minutes or they might murder each other.
June 16: In Sideways Stories From Wayside School, there was a chapter about a girl who ate a scoop of ice cream everyday for lunch. She soon grows tired of every flavor of ice cream that there is and quickly loses her will to live. Her teacher decides to make ice cream flavors for every student in the class. It is what they taste when they aren’t eating anything, so students can only notice flavors that aren’t their own.
Every time I eat Rainbow Sherbet, I would mix it until the pink, orange, and green blended together into a pale tan color and pretend it was Todd flavor ice cream. Mixing it together always took forever and left my hand cramped especially when I was given one of those white plastic spoons that would bend nearly in half when the ice cream was still frozen solid.
much love,
hedgie
June 10: Whenever a San Francisco team wins a championship, the city erupts into chaos. Her phone updates her with stories of people climbing Muni buses and setting them on fire. But she was always at a distance from them, just making out the bangs of illegal fireworks and the deep thrum of a helicopter patrolling while she tried to remember what sports season it even was.
June 11: Almost every adult in her family worked in education while she was growing up. Over summers, they would take road trips and give each one a theme as they traced the California coast. One road trip, they visited every lighthouse they could drive to. On another, they visited haunted houses. One summer, they took up train spotting. She grew up thinking that was how jobs worked. They all had summers off, but you could choose to have a different summer job if money was tight. Discovering that most jobs went year-round was the most disappointing realization of her adult life.
June 12: It’s only the first week of summer break and I have already lost track of what day it is.
June 13: Information from the true crime fact bank in the back of her mind came up three times at dinner. While looking out at the water, it was suggested that this would be a good place to dump a body. She disagreed, thinking that there were deeper and more remote bodies of water for that. She also knew the answer when asked if pigs could really eat their way through an entire corpse. The pigs could potentially do it, they have the ability to eat bones, the question was more dependent on if you found a group of pigs willing to do it. Then she was able to rattle off the addresses of nearby murders.
“See, this is why everyone thinks you are a serial killer.”
June 14: The windows to the place were blocked out with posters of dancing women. It was made to look like the women were dancing behind frosted glass, so the rounder parts of them were black and in sharp focus while the less interesting parts of their bodies were blurry and fading away. She supposed it was meant to look sexy and suggestive, but to her, it just made the place look haunted.
June 15: At the Exploratorium, you can make a bubble wall. There is a giant rig filled with bubble bath solution where if you pull gently on a rope, you can lift a giant rectangle of rainbow film. The whole thing would be about five feet tall and five feet wide if my kids could control themselves at all. When they watch one kids pull the string, they pop it before it even gets a foot tall. Then when it is their turn, they don’t foresee that the other kids will do the same exact thing. They get so mad when their own bubble is popped that after three trips here with kids, I have to pull them away after five minutes or they might murder each other.
June 16: In Sideways Stories From Wayside School, there was a chapter about a girl who ate a scoop of ice cream everyday for lunch. She soon grows tired of every flavor of ice cream that there is and quickly loses her will to live. Her teacher decides to make ice cream flavors for every student in the class. It is what they taste when they aren’t eating anything, so students can only notice flavors that aren’t their own.
Every time I eat Rainbow Sherbet, I would mix it until the pink, orange, and green blended together into a pale tan color and pretend it was Todd flavor ice cream. Mixing it together always took forever and left my hand cramped especially when I was given one of those white plastic spoons that would bend nearly in half when the ice cream was still frozen solid.
much love,
hedgie
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)