8/9/05

who the fuck is calling.) and it was the spud. “The bus isn’t here, and it’s 7:15!” she said. “Every year the bus is late for most of the first week until the bus driver figures out his route,” I reminded her. “Just stay there and wait for the bus.” “I want to be on time today!” she said, even more frantically. “WAIT FOR THE BUS,” I said, then hung up. A few minutes later I left for the pet store, and I was almost there – in fact, I could see the pet store – when my cell phone rang. It was the spud, of course, and when I answered the call she said “Where ARE you??” “I’m on my way to the pet store!” I said. “Why?” “The bus STILL isn’t here, and I don’t think it’s going to come!” she said frantically. “It didn’t come the first day last year!” “Stay where you are, and I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I growled. “What if it doesn’t come?” she said. “Stay THERE, and I’ll BE THERE in a few minutes!” I said, and hung up. I pulled a u-turn and hauled ass toward home. The traffic going from Huntsville to Madison was pretty light, and I was able to get home in a little less than ten minutes. On the way, I called Fred to bitch. “Could you call the school,” I said to him when he answered, “And ask them why it is that the bus driver has his head so far up his ass that he can’t seem to recall from one year to the next that he needs to go down the main road of the subdivision and pick our child up?” We continued bitching in this vein until I was almost to our subdivision, and then I hung up the phone. I drove by the street where the spud waits for the bus, and didn’t see her. “Oh, JESUS CHRIST,” I growled to myself. “Don’t tell me she fucking WALKED HOME and called me from THERE.” I turned onto our street and took out my cell phone to call her and tell her to get her butt in front of the house so I wouldn’t have to pull into the driveway and go into the house to get her. And there was a voicemail message waiting for me. “Um… Hi, Mom,” said the spud. “The bus just came.. it was just REALLY REALLY LATE. Um… just remember, I love you, so don’t kill me!” She’s just lucky she made me laugh, that’s all. I thought about text messaging her and asking her to have one of her friends kick her in the butt for me, but those babies are 5 cents apiece, so I didn’t. On the up side, I didn’t have to sit in the horrible, terrible, no-good, very bad traffic on the road to her school, but I DID have to sit through the traffic by the elementary school on the way out of Madison. At least she has her license and can take herself to Staples and buy her own (with my money) school supplies, so I don’t have to suffer through THAT horror this year. And for those of you who think I should have let her take my car to school on the first day of school: 1. I had pet store duties, or I probably would have. 2. It’s my car, but I’m being kind and allowing her to use it to get to school two days a week. BECAUSE I’M JUST THAT NICE. 3. No, we’re not buying her her own car. She doesn’t have a JOB, why would she need her own car? If she gets a job, she’ll get a car. It’s that simple. I’m sure my father thinks I’m evil for not running out and buying her her own car (I’m sure he thinks she should have a Maserati), because I had my own car when I was her age. But I also got my first job when I was 15, so there you go.

* * * So around these parts, if Fred says something I don’t agree with, instead of saying “Husband. I don’t agree with what you’ve said. Perhaps you need to rethink it and get back to me when you can say it in such a way that I can agree with you.”, I simply say “YOUR ASS.” I think I picked it up from Fred. In fact, I’m sure I did, because who else would come up with such a doofy way to indicate disagreement? So anyway, Friday night/ Saturday morning I was having fucked up dreams – I always have fucked up dreams on Friday night/ Saturday mornings, because we eat crappily on Fridays – about the end of the world. And I don’t mean the end of the world in a nuclear bomb/ everyone dies sort of way, I mean a disease-runs-rampant-and-kills-the-majority-of-the-population/ The Stand sort of way. So I was still alive – OBVIOUSLY – and there were a bunch of people who were still alive also, and I was living in a hotel on the ocean in Ohio (YES, I KNOW; IT WAS A DREAM) with a bunch of other people. And I was handing out dinner to different people, and lo and behold, there were Nance and Jane, and they were all hanging out talking, and I put their dinner down near them, and as I stood back up, my hand brushed Nance’s butt (IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, NANCE. I WAS NOT PUTTING THE MOVES ON YOU), and I said “Oh! I’m sorry!” And Nance and Jane chorused, “Your ass!” And I said “No, actually! YOUR ass!” And we all guffawed. Even in my dream, I’m a dork. * * * Later in the same dream, I was talking to an asian man, who was sitting on his bed (we were sleeping in a dormitory-type setting, with single-size beds) and I looked at the headboard of his bed, where there was a plaque with his name and date of birth on it (I don’t know. IT WAS A DREAM.) and I read it, and it said that his name was Neseus, and that his nickname was Seussie. And I started laughing REALLY hard, and I said “Oh my GOD! They call you SUZIE?!” When I woke up, I was laughing so hard I was crying. But now, two days later, it’s not funny at all. Hmph. * * * We watched Wanted last night (and let me take a moment to say that Gary Cole? IS HOT. Who the hell knew that Bill Lumbergh had it in him?) and were thrilled to see Lee Tergesen show up. Of course, he’ll always be Beecher to us, but we like him in this role, too. If you haven’t checked out the show, you might want to give it a try. It’s not like there’s anything else on right now… * * * The kittens didn’t spend a whole lot of time out running around in the house yesterday. I let them run around for about an hour, then they started getting whiny, which I’ve come to see as a cue to put them back in their room, so I did (whereupon they ran over to the food and began eating as though they hadn’t eaten in a month) and left them there for a few hours while I ate lunch and did some errands. I let them out for another hour in the afternoon until Mister Boogers began whining to go outside, so I put them back in their room for an hour or so, then we let them out for most of the evening. Mister Boogers can’t seem to decide what he thinks of them. Sometimes he’s fine with them, and then sometimes he does this growly-hissy thing which indicates that he’s not to thrilled at their existence. He’s smacked them both a few times, but he hasn’t attacked them. But when he starts with the growly-hissy thing, we separate them from him, because if he attacked them I’d have to kill him. I think he might be all talk, though. Climbing around on Fred. Warning: Cat cannot hold his licker. More spooning… and more spotted belly! You can’t tell from this picture, but she’s got her foot over her head, as if she’s doing kitty yoga. You can see all of today’s kitty pics here. ]]>