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Tuesday, 27 April 2004



I bought a colorful and graphically pleasing step stool at Ikea. When asked why I purchased it, I could only respond, with a sincere and amazed heart, "I had to buy it, it was TWO BUCKS." This logic was quite sensible to female friends and totally baffling to most males.


Oh, I love it. I imagined David Attenborough narrating: "The Species Shop Ikea". "The female will pick up color swatches and try and match them."

Happy birthday, Jilbur! Forty is the new 30!


All you bought were boxes and hangers. There must be something there for a joke, but I'm too tired to dig for it.


*sigh* My life is just a joke for you, isn't it, Lee? It's not bad enough that my life is so desperately mundane, a trip to Ikea registers as 'news.' I have to entertain you, too?


Oh, Jilbur, they've got you too!


Dear God I'm trembling with the jealousy. My last trip to Ikea was in New York last May, but I had to shop lightly because everything had to get back on the plane.

I don't know why Ikea is so afraid of the Enchanted Mitten. It's not right.

Happy Birthday and happy shopping. The promise of organization always makes me want to have sex.


Happy Birthday, Jilbur! Forty was a piece of cake. It was 41 that made me want to take inventory, dammit. Still not all the way back from the grumpy place. Maybe a trip to Ikea ...?


whhhhhhuuuuuuuhhhhhh *shudder*

Well, we just came off of an extremely harrowing Ikea tilt-a-whirl ride that involved chartered buses, ferry rides, frantic shopping, pleading with the management to just let us BUY THE STUFF and please don't make us yank it off the shelves in the warehouse since we had to be back on the bus to the ferry in five minutes and that's barely time enough for you to just take the imprint of our juicy credit card, overbuying by about 60%, taking delivery and paying impressive freight charges, spending 3 straight days screwing the shit together before realizing that the pile of things not yet assembled were totally unneccessary and therefore had to be returned, spent the next 3 days on the phone with deliberately obtuse "customer service" people at Ikea trying to arrange for transfer of the goods to be returned, spent the next 5 days coming up with new curse words to accompany the word "Ikea," and finally, finally, had the excess picked up and freighted back and their value reinstalled on our bank account.

No matter what I can get there for two bucks, my husband will NEVER allow another MOLECULE of Ikea into this house. Never.

And there are these nifty plates I really want to get...


P.S. We do love our black leather "Karlanda" sectional sofa, though. Hee.

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