November 20th, 2006


Ikea is the devil

Over the last week or so I have spent a monumental amount of time in enormous warehouse-like box stores. Target, Costco, Ikea, I've been to all of them and seen the dark underbelly of American capitalism up close and personal.

Of the three stores I thought Ikea was my favorite.

This is no longer so.

My roommate and I have nowhere to sit in our entire apartment. This is something of an issue since, you know, standing gets old after awhile and lying down is mostly for sleeping and reverse-cowgirl position sex.

We went to Ikea to get a couch, which was to act as a piece of furniture for us to sit on. Instead all we got was heartache.

See my roommate is kind of picky when it comes to furniture. He likes a sleek modernist look and he doesn't like spending a lot of money. I, on the other hand, want to be comfortable. Meeting these 3 criteria is almost impossible. For a long time we bickered over whether or not a particular couch was comfortable (it's not) and there was a good deal of friction between us as we both felt the other was being too stubborn and trying to push aside the other's concern.
Finally after 3 trips we found a solution. It was a nice leather couch that also came in fabric. Initially it appeared to only come in lime green, which is about as close to "Anti-sleek" as one can get, but after some research we found a version in light gray. Sweet. So we got the slip printed out, waited in an obscenely long line, and purchased the couch.


When we went to the delivery counter to set up having it brought to our apartment (too big for the car) the couch was wheeled out and we were informed there was one slight problem.

There were no slip covers.

"What about the light gray ones we asked for?"
"Not on it."

Well shit.

After about 30 minutes of phone calls and bargaining we learned that the slip covers could be had for an extra $200. We swallowed hard and said "fuck it." What's another $100 between friends? So what if we have to subsist on wonder bread and spam for a couple weeks. At least we'll do so while seated on a kick-ass couch.

My friend went up to get the covers. After about 45 minutes of trying to get someone's attention and explaining what was going on he confirmed his worse fears.

There WERE no slip covers left. Not in the entire store. Not in the entire North American order system. Not until January 15.

It took another hour to get the refund processed.


(no subject)

These are the people the current government says we can trust with limitless powers and no accountability.

Dick Cheney is a traitor. Those who support him hate America. Those who oppose him, for the most part, love it.

It used to be that when we heard about atrocities in other countries, police states, censorship, torture and the like, we could tsk tsk and say "Not in our country, not in America. Not in the land of the free." That was WHILE this kind of thing was going on. Because we knew that even though the government pulled this shit it did so rarely, secretly, and with the threat of future prosecution for those involved if it were ever discovered.

That article may talking about the past, but unless the Democrats enact real change and roll back a lot of the evil policies put in place in the 2000's, what it's really about is our future.

At home at home

I'm at home.

My old home.

I don't feel comfortable in the new one, and even though I'm paying a huge amount of money to be able to live there I find that I don't want to sleep there. Not tonight.

Maybe this was a mistake.

Maybe I just need to get some stuff in there (I would be more inclined to go if I had internet and/or a chair to sit in)

I don't know.

But for tonight I will be lying on my old bed and ceding the new place to my roommate, who I have had a lot of friction with and who plans to bring a young lady home for sex tonight.

I don't want to be there. I don't really feel comfortable here. Truth be told I just want to cuddle up with gingerdevotion and go to sleep, but she's not here either. I don't know what to do.

In the grand scheme of things this night won't be particularly important. No one night is. But right now it weighs heavy on my mind. I feel like I should be there. I'd rather be here. Anywhere I go, I sleep alone.

At least I have my music. Here.

There we don't even have a fucking clock, let alone an MP3 player.