An ode to Ikea

Or maybe a lament...
So I finally have all my furniture. My house came furnished, which was a big plus but it was certainly not completely done. My room had a bed, made comfortable with the addition of a foam topper-thank you mom and dad-and two bedside tables. I also have a miss-matched dresser that belongs in my roommate's set but which she didn't want because she thought it would be too small.  Needless to say not furnished to the point that I could use it easily as a study/living space. So the search was on...
I started on Craig's list which appeals to me not only as a poor graduate student, (yea cheap stuff other people don't want any more, even bigger cheer to free stuff people REALLY don't want any more!) but also as a slightly hippy northern Californian (yea recycling!) But alas there wasn't really anything that struck my fancy. Also while my roommate has a car, it is a miata, as in a teeny little two seater that comfortably sits us and most of our groceries in any given week. So if we want to actually acquire any of the furniture we have to be motivated enough to either rent a zip car (aka free stuff suddenly isn't so free) or I have to beg Dip Girl or Surrogate Parents to use their vehicles. While hunting around looking for deals can make for a fun afternoon, only if it is for your own stuff and if the weather is nice and if gas isn't too expensive. But lets be honest DC gas is almost as expensive as California gas and it has been in the nineties and humid here, not weather that anyone wants to lug furniture around in.
Needless to say I didn't find anything that I liked enough to actually drag someone out of their house to help me get it. We also looked at Goodwill with little luck, a couple local thrift stores and even a salvation army (although it would have taken allot for me to actually spend money there as I ABHOR their discriminatory policies!) Anyway I wasn't having much luck.
I will admit that much of my not having luck probably has something to with the fact that I don't do well with hodge podge, and I get frustrated that places want as much for particle board as they do for solidly constructed wood. So I gave in, much earlier than my roommate who doesn't seem to have quite the same insane need for cleanliness, order and coordination that I do, and called Dip Girl, who has recently acquired a rather large all terrain vehicle so that she can navigate dirt roads during a monsoon (seriously.) So appealing to her friendship and her desire to shop in giant super stores before she is shipped off the the developing world I got her to join me on an Ikea trip.
I love Ikea, honestly it is a little sick, but I do. I love shopping there, the top floor full of little living spaces, each of them so easy to imagine northern European Alexander Skarsgard look a likes popping out of their hip, modern, color coordinated spaces.  Little blonde families, inhabiting the space without any of the clutter that real life brings along. (Like furnished show houses in new developments or people who have done a really good job for an open house.) I also like that they make no bones about what they are selling, attractive pieces that will serve you well but will not last forever. You are paying for functionality and appearance but not art or timelessness. They are also socially responsible. But mostly I just really like that I am able to find a ton of pieces in the same color that won't cost me an arm and a leg. So that I can create a space to come home to that is clean with good light and well ordered.
So Dip Girl and I are waltzing around Ikea, well I am waltzing, making her a bit uncomfortable as I ooh and ahh over the little pieces I love in each room, and test out way more of the spaces than she is comfortable while she is just trying to make like she doesn't know me, I finally decide what I will do with my room. I decide, after much back and forth over which bookcase and which desk, that I will get the desk bookcase option, with optional drawers (which is actually called some unrecognizable Swedish thing that means all of that in one word I am sure.) And a dresser.

My desk (but not in white) 

But Kate don't you have a dresser, you ask. Well sort of, my dresser actually matches my roommate's set and she was letting me have it because she didn't think her things would fit in it. After unpacking she decided that her stuff would fit in it if I wanted to give it back. She continued to hunt for a dresser and I decided that I would get one that matched my desk and give her the one that matches her bed. Finally I have all the furniture I need. Now it is just a matter of loading it onto a cart. (At which point Dip girl and I decided that we both need to work on our upper body strength, and that maybe we don't actually like Ikea as much as we though we did) From the cart we have to check out, where, after heavy lifting, cinnamon buns are being baked as you are rung up just to tempt you. (I am never quite sure if I love or hate this about Ikea.) We decided to be good and resist the baked goods and began to load all of my stuff into Dip Girl's car. After a quick run back in for blackout shades- my room has great natural light, downside it has great natural light at 6:20 when the sun rises, we are ready to go.

The Dresser 

So now the real joy of Ikea begins, the building. Anyone who knew me in high school will tell you that I fell woefully short wherever power tools were concerned. (probably because of my predilection for accidents, I stayed away from set building and stuck to painting, costuming and makeup) Thankfully my DC dad, Jim has power tools, patience and is willing to help me, but for now my boxes sit in a pile in the corner of my room tempting me with how amazing my room will be.