6:13 pm - Monday, May. 17, 2004
A bad mom, a good couch, a fucked up administration....
I've been a bad mom. Last friday Boy missed the bus. They're doing tons of work on the pipes under the roads and on the roads and all over the place around here. The bus couldn't get to Boy. Boy called me at work, and I came home and took him to school. I then called the Transportation Dept. and asked what the hell. They said they told Boy that he was to get on the bus at another stop.

Hmmm. You would think that as people who spend time every day with children they would know you cannot trust children to listen to, understand or retain any important knowledge. Simon and I thought that this is the kind of info that warrants a note pinned to the shirt.

Anyway, I forgot to tell Boy, so this morning I get another phone call from Boy, who says he can't believe the bus left him again. I had to sheepishly tell him it was my fault, and that the bus would have picked him up had he been at the right stop.

At least, I think it would. Tommorrow I'm going to wait around until he gets on the bus to go to work. The construction workers seemed to think that the bus saw it couldn't get through and left without even trying to get to the appointed place.

We got a new couch. We had been wanting one... needing one even. The old one had the fuzz wore oft it. One of the seats wouldn't unrecline. It was small, and maybe a little stinky.

The rub is that new couches are exspensive and stressful. The pretty ones are exspensive. The clawful cats make it stressful. We decided that foam is evil (firefighters call it solid gasoline). So it seemed that the thing to do would be to get a futon frame for the queen futon that Simon already owns.

Saturday we're running errands. We bip into the recycle reuse and there, so recently arrived that it was unpriced, was a beautiful black metal futon frame. $25 and they'd keep the crappy foam futon that was on it. Yippy! So Simon goes and gets the truck, into which we stick the frame. It fits lovely, the feet hanging over the tailgate. We leave with that I-am-a-successful-hunter-god-what-a-deal-i-am-king-of -bargains feeling.

On the way home we hit a bump - good damn construction - and the lovely new frame bounces out and drags along behind the truck. The lovely feeling is gone. Now there is a sinking-god-no-it-was-so-nice-why-didn't-i-tie-it-down-aw-shit feeling in its place. The feet are ground away, and the frame is a little hinky.

Simon responds by being angry. This is normal. This is what he does. I respond by trying to figure out what to do about it, which is what I do, but later I feel sad. Here was something that was like new- it wasn't shitty or make-do, and then I turned it into something jacked up by not doing what I knew full well should be done.

We drive home. Sigh. Simon gets out his new hack saw and saws off the chewed up feet. He bends some bent parts back (in a gorgeous display of masculinity that I found very attractive, by the way), we screw everything back together and I shit you not, it looks fine. We bring it upstairs. We put the futon on it. It fits perfectly. It hides the one dent that the back suffered. The couch slides out into a bed just as slick as rick. It does not look jacked up. It looks like it should... it feels like it should... it works like it should.

I'm feeling much better about the whole affair. The living room feels more like a real living room. The whole fambly, including animals, can fit on this new couch. Lovely lovely lovely.

Did you listen to NPR thing weekend- the story about couples telling stories? This will become one of ours, I'm pretty sure.

Also, did you see Meet the Press? So Colin Powell (is that not the most unfortunate name...) was getting interviewed, and Tim asked him something about whether or not the Pres had made mistakes in Iraq, and the press secretary on the other end moved the camera and didn't want him to answer. Powell was still on the mic, and was he HOT. He's like "He's still asking me questions.... not now...(you need to)be quiet....turn the camera back on me..." and he was back. Tim Russert was pretty hot too, but he made it clear he knew Powell wasn't to blame. It turned into a joke later, when they asked McCain if he'd run on a bipartisan ticket with Kerry he said he was ready for someone to pull the camera away now...

I think it is shameful how the Bush administration treats the press. I think it shameful how they believe they can freely manipulate our access to knowledge. Shame on those mofos.