Wednesday July 13, 2016 at Home Baking Co.
From a sign on a newspaper box
Kim got a Lamborghini Aventador for her seventeenth birthday. I got a box of strawberry pop-tarts and a Graduation card. I wasn’t graduating until next year. Pam doesn’t remember how old I’m turning, or what I like, or that I’m allergic to wheat. Kim texts and asks if I want to go for dinner in Gastown and I tell her that I have to work. I don’t, but I spent my thirty dollars a month allotted for eating out three weeks ago. Kim texts and asks why I always have to work. I tell her that my Mom had to take some time off work because of her leg and I’m chipping in with rent. I see those little bubbles that show that Kim’s typing. They start and then they stop and then they start and then they stop. “#BUMMER”, she finally responds.
Sunday May 3, 2015
I would have been an eighth-grader this year if they hadn’t held me back, if they hadn’t oppressed my rights and made me wait for it, made me beg for it… Graduation. I saw my classmates who I’d been with since the very beginning, since tear-away track pants and Pogs, get up on the stage in the gym in blue and yellow gowns and hats. I heard Davie Bernstein make the valedictorian speech. “Hey Davie,” I said later, side-by-side in the urinal, “Nice speech.” He looked at me sideways and said, “Go suck a dick, Howard.” He tucked his into his stupid dress pants, didn’t wash his hands and left, laughing and talking loudly with the rest of the class. They held me back not because I’m not smart, not because I can’t write an essay or solve an algebra equation. They held me back because I’m not a go-getter. “You’re just not a go-getter,” Mrs. Sherman said, purple lipstick on her front teeth. “We think you’ll do better with one more year in Grade Six. We think you’ll thrive with Miss Davidson.” “Who is this “we”?” I asked, scratching the scab on my right knee. “The faculty, your parents and me,” Mrs. Sherman said, blinking her cow-like eyes quickly, like the question caught her off guard.
Sunday May 3, 2015
If I had stayed in class that day, I would have graduated high school, with just less than honours. Maybe less than less than honours cause I don’t know what graduating with just less than honours is even called. I would have been a person with a real diploma. I would have been a real person. But instead I skipped class with Erin cause she wanted to go to the aquarium and see what it’s really like to be trapped. I didn’t want her to go alone cause I was scared she was going to try to show them what it was like to be really free. We didn’t make it to the aquarium though. We weren’t even close…
Thursday April 3, 2014
-If we never get out of here, it’ll be all your fault, Rita. If that is even your real name.
-I’m not going to tell you again, I didn’t do it on purpose and it’s my real friggen name. Do you know many people who go out looking on purpose for a name like Rita?
-I don’t believe anything you say anymore.
-I was told you were the best.
-Who told you that?
-I don’t know, Dr. Arnold. Maybe someone else too, I don’t remember.
-He said that?
-Yeah. So then I wasn’t worried, because I trust him, but now I’m not so sure.
-I told you it was an accident. I’m sorry you’re missing it.
-The ceremony. I’m really sorry about that.
-Right, well your kid only gets one kindergarten graduation. Here’s hoping she makes it to high school or I’m coming after you.
-If it’s any consolation, I missed my kid’s graduation too. On purpose. I was working.
-I know, I’m a bad mother. I wasn’t thinking of him then.
-You feel bad about it at least. That’s a start.
-Not then I didn’t. When it counted.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
rebar: modern food cookbook
Audrey Alsterberg and Wanda Urbanowicz
Well, since we’ve learned our times tables we should be able to multiply! We should be able to do the longest division! We should be able to eat doubles and triples of both peas and juniper berries alike! Since we’ve learned addition and subtraction, we should be able to see that adding one tablespoon of teethmarks and taking away two molars with a simple yank or two gives the perfect love bite! Since we’ve learned about velocity and geometry, theories of physics and biology, since we waded into tide-pools with starfish and romance, we now know that there is a Higher Power, a Supreme Governing Spirit… Call it what you will, Doctors of Life, call it what you will, some things simply cannot be explained. Let us sit, in silence, for thirty three minutes, oh, the divinity of the number three. Let us sit and pay homage to the Sun and the Moon and Jupiter! Let us pay homage to the rules and the questions and the non-answers!