we love ikea.
almost every room in our apartment has *something* by ikea in it. our living room has two futons, three tables, bookcase, floor rug. bedroom has dresser (new from today’s outing), two end tables. kitchen has assorted things as well as the bathrooms. i heart ikea. the only ONLY fucking problem is that it’s out in Potomac Mills, which on a good day I can do the drive in 25 minutes (and that is getting on four different highways to get to). But the good driving days here are few and far between. I also heart Potomac Mills as its one huge shopping mall that carries nothing but outlet stores. When Jeff saw the Nautica store, he cried. Now i have a dresser (that i put together, thank you very much. all paul did was screw in the knobs — but he is very good with screwing) with two drawers that are empty as i don’t know what to fill them with. figures. i bitch about not having enough space for months and now i have boatloads of it and nothing to put into it.
the funny thing was, that i was willing to pay the 69 bucks for delivery of the dresser when the guy looked at me like i was crazy as this was my only item. if you are not acquainted with ikea, the premise is that the reason why the furniture and crap is so cheap is due to YOU putting the damn thing together as well as taking it home. Generally this is a good idea, but i was already lugging around two huge frames for art work we had bought plus a heavy bag. carting out two heavy boxes for the damn dresser didn’t make sense to me. when i explained to the clerk that we were lazy (we do have to add in that i live on the third floor AND paul is the king of lazies), he just started laughing. the clerk promised to watch my stuff while i trot out to hell (er the parking lot) to grab my car and pull up. right when i had pulled into the parking spot to load my stuff, it started trickling rain. when i threw the frames into the back seat and had gone to get the dresser boxes, it was down pouring. by the time i had gotten the boxes into my trunk, i was soaked and had to remove my shoes and flip the air on as the steam from the heat of my body being wet was fogging up the windows. The clerk helping me load my boxes gave me a thumbs up seeing my “FSCK ME” plates and the “I brake for pornstars” bumper sticker.
i drove home at a leisurely pace (while talking to paul on my cell about buying a doggy — the verdict is still out) and pulling out ont 495 it was clear — no rain, no storm, no nothing. my windshield wipers were making the “squeak squeak” noise of rubber against dry glass. when paul, derrick and i had left an hour later to go to dinner, i got caught in the same storm — and this time i was wearing a white t-shirt.
some days you just can’t win.