Archive for the class Category

Volcano Eruption

Posted in class, Oakland on February 10, 2010 by Nada

My “Great Stuff” volcano erupted in the grammar school yesterday. Beautiful. My friend, the teacher’s aid, said the kids were all excited as she shot off the vinegar/baking soda/Kool Aid/jello magma next to the sink. She gave all the kids paper towels, which added to the kid’s excitement, and the feeling something out of control this way comes. My friend said it was a particularly pleasant eruption because the two bad boys in the class barfed right before the event, and were taken away to the nurse’s station. She also said as she walked into the classroom with the volcano she saw some students from her last year’s class, and told them this year she had a volcano. Last year’s students whined, “Hey! You didn’t do that for us.” Nothing like taunting kids. With fake volcanos. And potential mayhem.


Rain, Rain, Go Away

Posted in art, class, Oakland, weather on February 4, 2010 by Nada

It’s rained so much here the road is growing grass. Grass.

I’m not quite sure what to do about it. I guess next time the Big Guy cuts the yard, I’ll ask if he wants to cut the street too. Two weekends ago, we went to see the Big Guy’s old auntie and do some chores around her house. Her roof was growing grass. Grass. She has a shake roof, but still. I could use a few dry days, and I think I’ll put in that request now.

Here’s the volcano I made today.
Go ahead. Call me a braggart. Looks pretty realistic, huh? My friend is taking it to the grammar school kids she teaches and showing them how it’ll blow some jello/Kool-aid/vinegar/baking soda magma down its tiny fake mountainside.

The Principal’s Office

Posted in class on September 2, 2009 by Nada

Writing Class

Posted in class on July 2, 2009 by Nada

This is the piece the class liked the best today…

90°. 180°. 360°. I think about angles a lot. Too much. I turn my right foot out at 45°, then 60°. I look at it. I look up, 180° from the ground to the sky. A seagull flies overhead, carrying a dead rat. I search the internet. Someone else has see that too. Like me, they think it’s an omen.

My feet are perpendicular to my legs. 90°. I email my best friend, “I saw a seagull carrying a dead rat.”

She emails back, “Was he carrying the rat in his feet?”

Seagulls’ feet are 65° angles, full of webbing. I email my friend, “He was carrying the carcass in his beak.”

She emails me, “Gross.”

I don’t feel comfortable sitting in my desk chair. I spin my chair 360°. It doesn’t help. Nothing helps.

I go outside and gaze 35° up from the ground at the sun. I want to be the seagull, but maybe I’m the rat. I stare at the sun too long. I think about Pythagorean’s Theorem. I think about my math teacher, Mr. Flatt. I think about detention and slamming Angie’s blond head on the lunchroom’s green Formica tabletop. I think about nuclear fission in Texas while the sun sets.

I go inside and microwave a Lean Cuisine for 3 minutes and 10 seconds. The plate in the microwave turns by itself, 360°. I smile.