October 17: The smoke in the air had been so thick while we were away that all of our clean dishes drying near the open window were now coated in a layer of ash.
October 18: Ryan Gosling being a replicant actually makes a lot more sense than him being human
October 19: It’s strangely easy to forget the huge life event that took place a week ago. I will only suddenly remember that we are married when I reach over to hold Nick’s hand and feel his ring in between my fingertips.
October 20: My coworkers now suspect that I may be a murderer. Miss Connie brought in a few milk jugs to make ghosts with her students. I sighed loudly and told her that the correct way to make ghosts was to brutally murder someone. Melissa stopped writing on the whiteboard mid-sentence to turn about and say, “Jesus christ, Heather.”
October 21: I received my first ever jury summons. It told me to report to the Orange County City Hall on December 5th. I filled out an online form to disqualify myself since I do not live in that region anymore. It is my first time selecting ‘married’ on an official document.
October 22: Addie has scabs dotting her forehead from where is repeatedly jabbed her face into Joshua trees while looking for dead things to eat. When the dried up clumps fall come off, they take a fistful of fur with them.
October 23: Nick's sister was going at 6 for an hour or two to see some old friends and wanted to know if we would still be up when she got back. At 8. How old does she think we are?
much love,
hedgie
Monday, October 23, 2017
Monday, October 16, 2017
pretending to have a seizure
October 9: Nick’s dad has been insisting on taking a few minutes in the middle of the ceremony to bless our union. For months, he has refused to take no for an answer. Ryan and Dylan suggest we have a backup plan in case he manages to grab the mic and have his way. A plan that involves me popping a few aka seltzer tablets into my mouth and then pretending to have a seizure.
October 10: California has two seasons: perfect and on fire. It is currently on fire.
October 11: Heidi has a kiddie pool and two stunt kites in the trunk of her car, so she’s pretty much ready for anything.
October 12: The sound that emitted from the quartz bowls in The Integration was like a bee buzzing in the hollow of my head. I could follow the notes from ear to ear to forehead to nasal cavities. Despite the havoc the sound bath wreaked inside of my skull, I was asleep within fifteen minutes.
October 13: Ryan used to think that the little flap of fabric at the bottom of underwear was a secret compartment that he called his pee-pee pocket. He would often store little items in there to give as gifts. Dad still has a jar of stones on his shelf that were delivered to him this way.
October 14: Nick cried when he watched me walk down the aisle with my dad. Andrew had to hand him one of the tissues that Heidi stashed in her bra.
October 15: A betting pool went around for the wedding guests to predict when Nick and I would have our first child. The DJ put his granddaughter’s birthday as his guess, effectively accusing me of already being two months pregnant.
October 16: There are still protests about Nick and I not changing our last names to Lovechanan. I finally found a compromise. It will be my pen name: B.F. Lovechanan.
much love,
hedgie
October 10: California has two seasons: perfect and on fire. It is currently on fire.
October 11: Heidi has a kiddie pool and two stunt kites in the trunk of her car, so she’s pretty much ready for anything.
October 12: The sound that emitted from the quartz bowls in The Integration was like a bee buzzing in the hollow of my head. I could follow the notes from ear to ear to forehead to nasal cavities. Despite the havoc the sound bath wreaked inside of my skull, I was asleep within fifteen minutes.
October 13: Ryan used to think that the little flap of fabric at the bottom of underwear was a secret compartment that he called his pee-pee pocket. He would often store little items in there to give as gifts. Dad still has a jar of stones on his shelf that were delivered to him this way.
October 14: Nick cried when he watched me walk down the aisle with my dad. Andrew had to hand him one of the tissues that Heidi stashed in her bra.
October 15: A betting pool went around for the wedding guests to predict when Nick and I would have our first child. The DJ put his granddaughter’s birthday as his guess, effectively accusing me of already being two months pregnant.
October 16: There are still protests about Nick and I not changing our last names to Lovechanan. I finally found a compromise. It will be my pen name: B.F. Lovechanan.
much love,
hedgie
Sunday, October 8, 2017
HAVE A BABY
October 1: The woman behind us in line at the grocery store cash register was only buying one bag of frozen pasta, a large caramel chocolate bar, and two bottles of rosé.
October 2: I told my kids that I would be gone for a week for my wedding. I asked if they had any questions. Jaivon raised his hand and without waiting for me to call on him, yelled “HAVE A BABY!”
October 3: Scores poetry had our first FaceTime with dad’s creative writing class. The trash talk started immediately. One of the kid favorite insults was “you look like a waffle!”
October 4: David is obsessed with chickens lately. He claims every clothing pattern is of chickens and that he has to put on a helmet when his older brother picks him up because they ride a giant chicken home.
October 5: Melissa hired a new teacher today. We finally have a full staff!
October 6: It was my last day with my kids before I got married. They sang “happy wedding to you” to the tune of the happy birthday song.
October 7: The drag queens asked for all brides to be to go to the stage. There were three of us total. I am apparently too classy for drag queens to make fun of me because they spent only a few seconds examining my ring before moving on to the bachelorette wearing a fake mustache.
October 8: Angi leaned out of the porthole in our suite and wondered out loud if we thought she could spit on the people walking up the ramp and into the Queen Mary. Turns out, she could.
much love,
hedgie
October 2: I told my kids that I would be gone for a week for my wedding. I asked if they had any questions. Jaivon raised his hand and without waiting for me to call on him, yelled “HAVE A BABY!”
October 3: Scores poetry had our first FaceTime with dad’s creative writing class. The trash talk started immediately. One of the kid favorite insults was “you look like a waffle!”
October 4: David is obsessed with chickens lately. He claims every clothing pattern is of chickens and that he has to put on a helmet when his older brother picks him up because they ride a giant chicken home.
October 5: Melissa hired a new teacher today. We finally have a full staff!
October 6: It was my last day with my kids before I got married. They sang “happy wedding to you” to the tune of the happy birthday song.
October 7: The drag queens asked for all brides to be to go to the stage. There were three of us total. I am apparently too classy for drag queens to make fun of me because they spent only a few seconds examining my ring before moving on to the bachelorette wearing a fake mustache.
October 8: Angi leaned out of the porthole in our suite and wondered out loud if we thought she could spit on the people walking up the ramp and into the Queen Mary. Turns out, she could.
much love,
hedgie
Saturday, September 30, 2017
fundamental misunderstanding
September 25: Rah has a fundamental misunderstanding about how ding-dong-ditching works. He knocked on the bungalow door and waited for Melissa to answer the door and say hi to him before running away and yelling, "I got you! Ding dong!”
September 26: “I liked our lesson on Rosalind Franklin because I learned that if we work together, we can make things happen.”
“I liked this lesson because we got marshmallows.”
September 27: Jen has started putting little packets of Tajin in her prize box for her kinders.
September 28: We polled the class to see how many of them inherited the ability to make Spock’s live long and prosper Vulcan hand salute. Half of the class could manage it while the other half glared at their fingers for disobeying them. When their parents picked them up, their first question was if they were able to do it.
September 29: Ms. Connie is expecting her first grandchild any day now. She told Melissa she might not be in on Monday depending on when her daughter started labor. But, due to Ms. Connie's accent, Melissa misunderstood and spent the next hour trying to figure out why her doctor's baby was so important to her.
September 30: The Winchester Mystery House was filled with people and devices meant to jump out at you and fill the 160 rooms with screams. Our practiced tour guide jumped about a foot when a woman in our group dropped the glow in the dark straw from her to go margarita.
much love,
hedgie
September 26: “I liked our lesson on Rosalind Franklin because I learned that if we work together, we can make things happen.”
“I liked this lesson because we got marshmallows.”
September 27: Jen has started putting little packets of Tajin in her prize box for her kinders.
September 28: We polled the class to see how many of them inherited the ability to make Spock’s live long and prosper Vulcan hand salute. Half of the class could manage it while the other half glared at their fingers for disobeying them. When their parents picked them up, their first question was if they were able to do it.
September 29: Ms. Connie is expecting her first grandchild any day now. She told Melissa she might not be in on Monday depending on when her daughter started labor. But, due to Ms. Connie's accent, Melissa misunderstood and spent the next hour trying to figure out why her doctor's baby was so important to her.
September 30: The Winchester Mystery House was filled with people and devices meant to jump out at you and fill the 160 rooms with screams. Our practiced tour guide jumped about a foot when a woman in our group dropped the glow in the dark straw from her to go margarita.
much love,
hedgie
Sunday, September 24, 2017
your favorite stock broker
September 18: I finally found my response for when people act derogatory about my job. Ask them if they remember their favorite teacher. And then ask them if they remember their favorite stock broker.
September 19: I woke up early to find Addie cuddled up in between me and Nick. She was also using George as a pillow.
September 20: Charlotte and Diana had a few too many when we got on the subject of wedding planning. Diana was just beginning to choose a date and we were commiserating about how we had to choose dates based off our school schedule. Charlotte remembered I had requested a few days off for my wedding. “How long are you going to be married for?” “Oh, just like ten days or so.”
September 21: Ms. Connie bought a doll for her students to play with because it was only four dollars. It has giant, piercing eyes set above an eerie smile. “Of course it cost four dollars,” Melissa said, placing a note not to feed it in its chubby, plastic hands. “It’s probably cursed.”
September 22: There is a theory that your birthmark is a physical representation of how you died in a past life. My birthmark is a series of small, dark dots along my upper thigh. So I apparently died of some sort of sexually transmitted disease.
September 23: We are testing sedatives on Addie for the wedding. When the pill finally kicked in, she seemed to forget how her legs worked and had to walk along walls to go in a straight line. But she did remember to check for leftovers in George's bowl at dinner time.
September 24: It’s finally starting to hit me that Nick and I are getting married. Strangely, I feel way more anxious about the wedding itself than the idea of spending the rest of our lives together.
much love,
hedgie
September 19: I woke up early to find Addie cuddled up in between me and Nick. She was also using George as a pillow.
September 20: Charlotte and Diana had a few too many when we got on the subject of wedding planning. Diana was just beginning to choose a date and we were commiserating about how we had to choose dates based off our school schedule. Charlotte remembered I had requested a few days off for my wedding. “How long are you going to be married for?” “Oh, just like ten days or so.”
September 21: Ms. Connie bought a doll for her students to play with because it was only four dollars. It has giant, piercing eyes set above an eerie smile. “Of course it cost four dollars,” Melissa said, placing a note not to feed it in its chubby, plastic hands. “It’s probably cursed.”
September 22: There is a theory that your birthmark is a physical representation of how you died in a past life. My birthmark is a series of small, dark dots along my upper thigh. So I apparently died of some sort of sexually transmitted disease.
September 23: We are testing sedatives on Addie for the wedding. When the pill finally kicked in, she seemed to forget how her legs worked and had to walk along walls to go in a straight line. But she did remember to check for leftovers in George's bowl at dinner time.
September 24: It’s finally starting to hit me that Nick and I are getting married. Strangely, I feel way more anxious about the wedding itself than the idea of spending the rest of our lives together.
much love,
hedgie
Sunday, September 17, 2017
split in two
September 10: Dad leaned out the window to hand a homeless man a few dollars. The man took the money and then mumbled something about January 21, 2023. When Dad rolled the window back up, I asked what the guy said. Dad leaned back in his seat and readjusted his seat belt. “I think he just told me when I’m going to die.”
September 11: The rain glowed for a few moments in the light of the street lamp. Heavy, golden drops that vanished into the darkness after falling a few feet.
September 12: When I first showed the Girl Power class pictures of Frida Kahlo, there were the expected jokes about her unibrow and her masculine features. By the end of the lesson, one of the fifth grade girls got teary eyed when I read Kahlo’s quote about feeling strange and alone.
September 13: Jaivon's dad reeked of weed at pickup today. I just hope that he doesn’t smoke that much at home and end up hot boxing Jaivon, though, that would explain so much.
September 14: Each girl was given a piece of paper with a few lines on it and were told to decorate it. At the end of the class, we put them all together to show that we had created a giant image of Frida Kahlo. I don’t think they really understood the community building aspect of the whole project because they all wanted to take their piece home rather than pin the whole thing up on our board in the cafeteria.
September 15: I wore my hedgehog onesie for pajama prize day. Eliel spent the entire day pretending to hug me when he was really attempting to pick my phone out of my fuzzy pocket.
September 16: It always freaks me out a little when dogs yawn. Their snout is so long that for a moment, it looks like their head is going to split in two.
September 17: Nick's dad got weirdly obsessed with the exact breakdown of the wedding party guests, wanting to know whose side was going to be bigger. Leave it to him to turn our wedding into a dick measuring contest.
much love,
hedgie
September 11: The rain glowed for a few moments in the light of the street lamp. Heavy, golden drops that vanished into the darkness after falling a few feet.
September 12: When I first showed the Girl Power class pictures of Frida Kahlo, there were the expected jokes about her unibrow and her masculine features. By the end of the lesson, one of the fifth grade girls got teary eyed when I read Kahlo’s quote about feeling strange and alone.
September 13: Jaivon's dad reeked of weed at pickup today. I just hope that he doesn’t smoke that much at home and end up hot boxing Jaivon, though, that would explain so much.
September 14: Each girl was given a piece of paper with a few lines on it and were told to decorate it. At the end of the class, we put them all together to show that we had created a giant image of Frida Kahlo. I don’t think they really understood the community building aspect of the whole project because they all wanted to take their piece home rather than pin the whole thing up on our board in the cafeteria.
September 15: I wore my hedgehog onesie for pajama prize day. Eliel spent the entire day pretending to hug me when he was really attempting to pick my phone out of my fuzzy pocket.
September 16: It always freaks me out a little when dogs yawn. Their snout is so long that for a moment, it looks like their head is going to split in two.
September 17: Nick's dad got weirdly obsessed with the exact breakdown of the wedding party guests, wanting to know whose side was going to be bigger. Leave it to him to turn our wedding into a dick measuring contest.
much love,
hedgie
Saturday, September 9, 2017
primarily cabbages
September 1: Yesterday, a kinder informed me that it would be 50,000 degrees today. She was accurate.
September 2: It has been so hot that neither of the dogs will jump up onto the couch. They sprawl out across the wood floor right in front of the door.
September 3: My heels of my sandals acted like tiny catapults, flipping hot sand straight up into my calves as I walked to the shoreline.
September 4: Maybel couldn’t see him, but certain old floorboards continued to creak as he circled around her in the dark. One moment, he would wander the far side of the room to her left. Then suddenly, he would be right next to her, stroking a long, bony finger against her cheek and down her neck, tracing her collar bone over her dress front.
September 5: Abel showed me his Donald Trump impression today. He mostly yelled angrily and incoherently. All I could make out was “Trump” and “hotel”.
September 6: On the yard wall, someone had scrawled ‘Fuck you Bick’ in pencil. Someone else later drew an arrow pointing at it, with a note reading ‘get ur spelling right boi’.
September 7: I picked up my wedding dress today. It is the final countdown for the wedding
September 8: I’m still a bit worried about how Ryan can get to the wedding and asked Dylan if he had any idea what could be done. He set down his glass of beer and leaned conspiratorial across the table. “Using primarily cabbages…”
September 9: So turns out we are helping Katie move today. It’s not like I was planning on using my weekend to rest or anything like that anyway.
much love,
hedgie
September 2: It has been so hot that neither of the dogs will jump up onto the couch. They sprawl out across the wood floor right in front of the door.
September 3: My heels of my sandals acted like tiny catapults, flipping hot sand straight up into my calves as I walked to the shoreline.
September 4: Maybel couldn’t see him, but certain old floorboards continued to creak as he circled around her in the dark. One moment, he would wander the far side of the room to her left. Then suddenly, he would be right next to her, stroking a long, bony finger against her cheek and down her neck, tracing her collar bone over her dress front.
September 5: Abel showed me his Donald Trump impression today. He mostly yelled angrily and incoherently. All I could make out was “Trump” and “hotel”.
September 6: On the yard wall, someone had scrawled ‘Fuck you Bick’ in pencil. Someone else later drew an arrow pointing at it, with a note reading ‘get ur spelling right boi’.
September 7: I picked up my wedding dress today. It is the final countdown for the wedding
September 8: I’m still a bit worried about how Ryan can get to the wedding and asked Dylan if he had any idea what could be done. He set down his glass of beer and leaned conspiratorial across the table. “Using primarily cabbages…”
September 9: So turns out we are helping Katie move today. It’s not like I was planning on using my weekend to rest or anything like that anyway.
much love,
hedgie
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