Day Sixty-Nine: The Wonderful World of Ikea

This afternoon, in a depressed and "damn-it-all" state, I drove for thirty minutes to my nearest wonderland of furniture, Ikea. Ikea and I have had a long and joyous relationship, and they never let me down. Granted, I have gone to Ikea to window shop and write down things I want to buy someday more times than I have actually gone to Ikea to buy anything, but it's a fascinating walk-through Please-Touch museum of buyables and ingenious household items for Walmart prices. It's trendy, it's colorful, and the best part is, it's instant and you get to build the furniture yourself. I love Ikea.

Most people don't want to be hassled with pulling a cardboard box heavier than themselves, full of various pieces of fiberboard that they have to piece together themselves with a set of Lego-like instructions and an Allen wrench. I'm assuming, that most people go to Ikea because they can get nice-looking furniture at insanely cheap prices. I, actually, love building Ikea furniture. On several occasions, I have said that if I ever fail at all other things in my life I want to acheive, I will become a professional Ikea furniture assembler. I love piecing pre-cut wood together to create furniture I can actually use. To me, it's a grand project that gives me tangible and proud results. So I entered the epic theme park of furniture with a coming sense of accomplishment.

As I steered my huge cart in and out of crowds of wandering parents and screaming children, I collected a scarf rack, a couple lamps, a set of kitchen tongs, five sets of curtains, two oven mitts, a small saucepot, and a kitchen tool canister, and a mirror for $100. Although it was absolutely insanely crowded and I wanted to run everyone down with my cart, I still enjoyed the experience, and got a lot accomplished.

I did not, however, buy any furniture. And it was this trip to Ikea that gave me a good idea of why people might possibly hate buying their own "assembly required" furniture.

As I dutifully walked my cart up the appropriate aisle for my small, light, and affordable coffee table and stopped at the designated bin, I surveyed the size of the box holding my bits of table, and then the size of the cart. Although the cart was huge, the box was huge-r. And although the coffee table was small and light, the box was not-so-small, and definitely NOT light. I tugged at the box in vain, moving it only a few inches off it's stack of friends. I could not do this myself. I would need to return with a strong man, and possibly a sport utility vehicle. A dark cloud loomed over my sense of handiness.

So although building my furniture might be fun, I'm a little frightened about getting it home...and up three flights of stairs, for that matter. Building it will probably be fun, assuming I don't screw up and end up with a Picasso-esque coffee table and dresser. But I am becoming more and more grateful that I inherited a side table, a TV stand, and a couch. But I suppose we'll see.

Day Forty: Snowed In

It's amazing what we turn to for entertainment when we become snowed in and our options for entertainment become dangerously limited to a stir-crazy proportion. Given that I was snowed in most of last weekend, I don't know how much more of staying barricaded inside a cozy dwelling away from the elements I can take. It's much better than the alternative, but myself and many other people (most of whom in South Jersey, undoubtedly), are getting really sick of snow. And it certainly doesn't help that our little winter snowfall is being dubbed "the storm of the season" with states and counties declaring states of emergency and actually fining people for leaving their houses. God help us all.

Therefore, even before the first flurries fell, any possibility of plans I may have had for the weekend were quickly dashed. Knowing I would be confined to my house for the evening, I began to undertake the task of making a neat little list of all the furniture and furnishing items I would need to purchase when I eventually move, which will hopefully be soonish. I began thinking this could be a fun little project that would be both productive, and take a considerable amount of my evening. I would get a nice sense of accomplishment and entertain myself in the process, fending off cabin fever for at least the first day of this winter storm.

But what it turned into was a three-hour online search for a comforter. My mother got frustrated, I hated everything, and we both ended up exhausted and laughing at horribly ugly carribbean themed bedding with flamingos and sunsets. Needless to say, it got a little out of hand. While we were pretty entertained, what started as a nice little task ended as a debacle immensely picky proportions. I'm already feeling a little stir-crazy after staring at a screen for the better part of my day today. So tomorrow, it will be cake baking and decorating, and hopefully that will ward off the fear of being locked inside for yet another weekend.

So as I'm sitting here, watching feet of snow build up around me, I'm wondering what other people are doing to keep themselves occupied over the snowy weekend. A lot of people (myself not included) have the social and economic embarassment that is the Super Bowl on Sunday to occupy themselves, so I'm sure that helps. If you're in the Northwestern U.S., what are you doing to keep yourself occupied? Hopefully, you have a bottle of something strong and a friend with you to help the process.