June 24: Cleaning out my dressers is weird. I simultaneously feel like I’m getting rid of too much stuff and not enough at the same time. It’s like watching myself throwing away pieces of who I used to be and who I thought I would be by the time I reached this age.
June 25: I want to talk about what’s bothering me and get it out. But he seems to do everything he can to stop me. He interrupts, tries to distract me, and tells me he is the wrong person to go to for this kind of thing. It’s like I ate something poisonous and I’m trying to throw it up, but he puts his hand over my mouth and forces me to swallow it again.
June 26: I’ve been on a Gordan Ramsay binge lately. Just watching him yell at deluded owners and sticking up for the line staff is so satisfying. This is the closest I will get to yelling back at all the baby boomers who have deemed my generation as selfish snowflakes. They are the ones who tell me to go to college and get in debt for it so I can avoid a life of working in fast-food joints. Then they tell me to remove my degree from my resume so I can have an easier time finding work where they can pay me less than what I deserve while my student loan payments start six months after graduation and come weighted down with huge interest rates. Then they berate people who do end up working in fast food places just to make ends meet.
June 27: I passed a family that was out walking their dog that looked just liked George. He was another tiny, white, fluffy guy. They sniffed each other and when we parted ways without incident, I praised George. The woman in the group stopped dead in her tracks and her mouth fell open. The other dogs was also named George.
June 28: The sun was setting and we pulled over to the side of the freeway. The wind was helped along by the semi-trucks and picked up flecks of sand from the shoulder of the road, but it was still warm. We scattered Jr’s ashes where a sunflower bush and a thorny bush converged.
June 29: The program for Grandma’s memorial service listed that Matt and Angi would be performing a duet of Amazing Grace. Angi took centerstage and pulled the microphone out of its holder. The stage was still decorated with a fake plane and Mayan temple from the church’s VBS program. Matt went to the piano. Nick leaned towards me. “I didn’t know Matt played the piano,” he whispered. But apparently he didn’t because he played exactly two notes and Angi belted out the song alone. And now I want to hire them as an entertainment duo for every event I have from now on.
June 30: We had one dog per person as we walked around the marina in Dana Point. At least a dozen people pointed us out, calling us the “dog parade”. I was busy reading the names painted on the backboards of all the boats, names like Fish Lips and Wild in Sac.
much love,
hedgie
Sunday, June 30, 2019
Sunday, June 23, 2019
murder first, drinks second
June 16: Even years later, she never felt like part of the family. They were awkward around her and couldn’t remember things about her. She felt more like a neighbor that they invited just to be nice but they never expected to actually show up.
June 17: Addie had been sick lately and it’s hard to figure out why. Her symptoms are difficult to fit together into one diagnosis. She’s still active and silly. She’s drinking plenty of water and her appetite is good. There’s nothing unusual in her poop. But everyday for about a week, she has woken us up at four in the morning to vomit in the living room.
June 18: I’m losing track of what day it is already. Everything is starting to blur together. I’m torn between feeling like school got out one week ago or two months ago. Nothing else would make any sense to me right now.
June 19: I started giant knitting this week so I can make a blanket for the living room. It’s a lot more physical than I was expecting. I have to take a break every two rows because it is so tiring to even unspool the giant ball of yarn.
June 20: I’ve been watching “Tidying Up with Marie Kondo” in hopes that it will help put me into the mindset to start cleaning out my dressers. Her first step is to pile everything into a single mound and sort through it one by one to determine what you keep and what you let go. She says to hold them up to your chest and see if it sparks joy, giving the same feeling as holding a puppy. While I understand the theory behind it and how that can be helpful, I just feel like that is a lot to ask of a T-shirt.
June 21: It’s strange how little men’s fashion has changed throughout the years. Nick and I are trying to choose our outfits for the 1920’s-themed scavenger hunt tomorrow and he’s able to just wear the 1950’s suit he once bought. I’m choosing all the loosest and shapeless clothes I can find, which is strange because in just a few decades, tight and form-fitting clothes become the new look.
June 22: We had half an hour to solve the murder mystery before end time and everyone was still looking at the menu. “Guys, murder first, drinks second.”
June 23: Addie has started the shedding process. I can’t pet her without hair jetting out in all directions like confetti at a parade. It is officially the summer season.
much love,
hedgie
June 17: Addie had been sick lately and it’s hard to figure out why. Her symptoms are difficult to fit together into one diagnosis. She’s still active and silly. She’s drinking plenty of water and her appetite is good. There’s nothing unusual in her poop. But everyday for about a week, she has woken us up at four in the morning to vomit in the living room.
June 18: I’m losing track of what day it is already. Everything is starting to blur together. I’m torn between feeling like school got out one week ago or two months ago. Nothing else would make any sense to me right now.
June 19: I started giant knitting this week so I can make a blanket for the living room. It’s a lot more physical than I was expecting. I have to take a break every two rows because it is so tiring to even unspool the giant ball of yarn.
June 20: I’ve been watching “Tidying Up with Marie Kondo” in hopes that it will help put me into the mindset to start cleaning out my dressers. Her first step is to pile everything into a single mound and sort through it one by one to determine what you keep and what you let go. She says to hold them up to your chest and see if it sparks joy, giving the same feeling as holding a puppy. While I understand the theory behind it and how that can be helpful, I just feel like that is a lot to ask of a T-shirt.
June 21: It’s strange how little men’s fashion has changed throughout the years. Nick and I are trying to choose our outfits for the 1920’s-themed scavenger hunt tomorrow and he’s able to just wear the 1950’s suit he once bought. I’m choosing all the loosest and shapeless clothes I can find, which is strange because in just a few decades, tight and form-fitting clothes become the new look.
June 22: We had half an hour to solve the murder mystery before end time and everyone was still looking at the menu. “Guys, murder first, drinks second.”
June 23: Addie has started the shedding process. I can’t pet her without hair jetting out in all directions like confetti at a parade. It is officially the summer season.
much love,
hedgie
Saturday, June 15, 2019
acne and wrinkles at the same time
June 8: Uncle still claims that he can tell a winning horse by just looking at it. I still have the bad habit of choosing a horse to bet on based on how funny I find their names.
June 9: Wiggins has been nicknamed “The Fur Rocket”. He pulled against his leash during the entire four-mile walk along the beach today. Even when he followed me to bed for a nap, he kept licking my eyeballs roughly every ten minutes just to make sure I was still alive.
June 10: I finally told Heidi about everything that had been going on with me in San Francisco. I cried a lot, but it felt good. It was amazing to discover that we had even more in common then I realized. We played out the exact same role in multiple situations, just a few years apart and with different people. It was sad and a relief at the same time. I may be making stupid decisions, but I’m not the only one doing it.
June 11: For the encore, John Paul White pulled out his acoustic guitar and beckoned us closer. He wouldn’t play until everyone he couldn’t see in the glow of the stage lights had moved forward to the empty tables closet to the stage. He sang without a mic in such a raw and tender way that his voice was almost washed away by the clinking sounds of the servers cleaning up the empty glasses from the abandoned tables.
June 12: Grannie’s house it nearly empty now. She’s moving back into Leisure World sometime next week. She showed us pictures of her new place on her iPad. It’s strange to think that this is the last time I will ever sit in this living room.
June 13: Addie keeps wanting to lick her butthole, but knows that we don’t like it. Every time she wants to do it and she is in the same room as us, she awkwardly crouches her butt as close to the ground as she can while still walking and then looks very guilty.
June 14: The fun thing about almost being thirty is that I’m somehow dealing with acne and wrinkles at the same time.
June 15: I still feel like a kid in so many ways. I keep watching so many people my age gracefully transition into adulthood. They have houses, kids, and careers with promotions. It makes me wonder what I am doing wrong. How is it so easy for them and so difficult to me? Everything just seems to work out in their favor. It reminds me of a conversation Nick and I have about once a week. I’ll tell him that I’m worried about something. He holds me hand and tells me, “Let me worry about that.” “But you’re not worried about it.” “Exactly.” For him, that was all that was needed to be said about the subject. Of course it was, he always ended up okay. For me, it was just the opening of a huge chasm that I would have to figure out how to cross alone.
much love,
hedgie
June 9: Wiggins has been nicknamed “The Fur Rocket”. He pulled against his leash during the entire four-mile walk along the beach today. Even when he followed me to bed for a nap, he kept licking my eyeballs roughly every ten minutes just to make sure I was still alive.
June 10: I finally told Heidi about everything that had been going on with me in San Francisco. I cried a lot, but it felt good. It was amazing to discover that we had even more in common then I realized. We played out the exact same role in multiple situations, just a few years apart and with different people. It was sad and a relief at the same time. I may be making stupid decisions, but I’m not the only one doing it.
June 11: For the encore, John Paul White pulled out his acoustic guitar and beckoned us closer. He wouldn’t play until everyone he couldn’t see in the glow of the stage lights had moved forward to the empty tables closet to the stage. He sang without a mic in such a raw and tender way that his voice was almost washed away by the clinking sounds of the servers cleaning up the empty glasses from the abandoned tables.
June 12: Grannie’s house it nearly empty now. She’s moving back into Leisure World sometime next week. She showed us pictures of her new place on her iPad. It’s strange to think that this is the last time I will ever sit in this living room.
June 13: Addie keeps wanting to lick her butthole, but knows that we don’t like it. Every time she wants to do it and she is in the same room as us, she awkwardly crouches her butt as close to the ground as she can while still walking and then looks very guilty.
June 14: The fun thing about almost being thirty is that I’m somehow dealing with acne and wrinkles at the same time.
June 15: I still feel like a kid in so many ways. I keep watching so many people my age gracefully transition into adulthood. They have houses, kids, and careers with promotions. It makes me wonder what I am doing wrong. How is it so easy for them and so difficult to me? Everything just seems to work out in their favor. It reminds me of a conversation Nick and I have about once a week. I’ll tell him that I’m worried about something. He holds me hand and tells me, “Let me worry about that.” “But you’re not worried about it.” “Exactly.” For him, that was all that was needed to be said about the subject. Of course it was, he always ended up okay. For me, it was just the opening of a huge chasm that I would have to figure out how to cross alone.
much love,
hedgie
Friday, June 7, 2019
my dog doesn't speak english
June 1: A lot of people think you don’t need to apologize if something was an accident. They don’t want to take blame for something out of fear it looks like they are admitting to being a bad person. But it’s just validating the other person’s reality. They got hurt and they were the cause of it. They deserve to hear that it happened, it was real, and that they are sorry that they were pain because of it. It’s like when I accidentally step on George’s paw. I don’t keep going when he yelps. I stop what I’m doing, go to my knees to pet and assure him.
June 2: Addie was barking at a man who was staring at us for too long in the street. The guy kept walking up towards her with his hand sticking out in front of him, even after I told him she doesn’t do well with men she doesn’t know. He told her that he was a nice guy repeatedly. I wasn’t really sure how to explain to him that she doesn’t speak English.
June 3: So far, there are nine teachers who will not be returning next year. I think it’s a new record.
June 4: It was the last day of school. I turned off all my work alarms. I don’t know what to do with myself now.
June 5: It didn’t take much to convince Katie that we should get ice cream. I pointed out Mitchell’s as we walked by on our way back to the apartment. A block later, I stopped to look at some pretty flowers. That pause was enough reason to make her turn around and say we were getting a treat.
June 6: Today, George farted so loudly that he scared both himself and Addie. They jumped so high off the couch that I thought they saw a rat suddenly scamper through the living room.
June 7: It’s strange how much shorter my days seem now. I can barely get two things done before it’s dark. Today, I went to the dentist and packed and all of a sudden it got so late. How was I able to get so much more done when at work?
much love,
hedgie
June 2: Addie was barking at a man who was staring at us for too long in the street. The guy kept walking up towards her with his hand sticking out in front of him, even after I told him she doesn’t do well with men she doesn’t know. He told her that he was a nice guy repeatedly. I wasn’t really sure how to explain to him that she doesn’t speak English.
June 3: So far, there are nine teachers who will not be returning next year. I think it’s a new record.
June 4: It was the last day of school. I turned off all my work alarms. I don’t know what to do with myself now.
June 5: It didn’t take much to convince Katie that we should get ice cream. I pointed out Mitchell’s as we walked by on our way back to the apartment. A block later, I stopped to look at some pretty flowers. That pause was enough reason to make her turn around and say we were getting a treat.
June 6: Today, George farted so loudly that he scared both himself and Addie. They jumped so high off the couch that I thought they saw a rat suddenly scamper through the living room.
June 7: It’s strange how much shorter my days seem now. I can barely get two things done before it’s dark. Today, I went to the dentist and packed and all of a sudden it got so late. How was I able to get so much more done when at work?
much love,
hedgie
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