Adventures in gift voucher.

5/02/2010 12:14:00 am

A couple of weekends ago, I was being a total whiny bitch because my stupid rabbit, whom I love very much, had eaten a whole heap of my stuff, and maybe also almost killed all of us, herself included, (via electrocution) as well.

She has developed a eerily good sense for destroying my belongings only, bitch. Although earlier this evening I did see her eating Rob's hat, so maybe she's not actually targeting me personally.

Not to self.. bunny-proofing inadequate.

Anyway, like I say, total whiny bitch: that's me. So to shut me up and turn my frown upside down, Rob gave me a gift-voucher he had lying around, and then I looked a bit sad and stuff and he caved and drove me to IKEA. And you know how much I love IKEA! I even write posts about IKEA and then forget to ever publish them...posts like this...

My Swedish friends told me once that in Sweden, having a house composed entirely of IKEA furniture/kitchen products/bedding is sort of...embarrassing. You don't talk about it. It's the dark, or blonde-wood secret that you hide until you can afford real furniture.

My Australian friends delight in IKEA furniture. When I go to someone's house, I'm all like, "oooh, I have the Billy bookcase," and they're like, "ohhhh, you like my Poäng armchair?" Ja. I do indeed love me some Poäng.

IKEA is sort of more exotic here than in Sweden. Although that might be more because most of my friends are from the country, and we're lame because there are no big shops outside the big city. Or something. Or maybe it's because we're all cheap, and love a 2 dollar meatball lunch with potatis and lingonberry sylt. Mmmmn meatballs.

I guess the lack of Swedish-excitement about IKEA makes sense really. Consider that there's one IKEA for the greater Sydney metropolitan area, population 5 million, and there are 9 IKEA in Sweden. Population 9 million. Hell, there's one in Uppsala, population 180,000 that has a dedicated separate warehouse so you never have to go without an allen key and some untreated pine.

I know that because it was the first question I learned how to ask in Swedish class. "Jag har en fråga till dig. Hur många Ikea finns det i Sverige?" Well there were 9 in 2007 (more now I think), and there are 38 in North America. And Germany has the most of any country. That's right, singing the Swedish alphabet wasn't the only thing I learned in those classes!

Anyway, I'm am an unabashed fan of IKEA, even if I would never admit such a thing to the cool kids in Sverige. I would make my whole house IKEA, except that well..I am cheap and that shit's getting more expensive. Damn CPI.

So there I was, in IKEA, with a gift card and a partner-in-crime with a limited tolerability-span for IKEA. (Seriously no fun at all: doesn't let me play in the toy section and wander around with a stuffed crocodile on my head, and he's banned me from the kitchen section. Bastard..except for the whole gift card thing... )

What was I to do? Well apart from the obvious, which was to stuff my face with meatballs and instant mash, and eat two pieces of daim tart. Ahem.

Since I'm on a total gardening kick at the moment, first I bought some of order to feel like a competent and fashionable hasn't happened quite yet, but nothing has died to date so I remain optimistic.

I also bought some parsley which, knock on wood, continues to live. I've had good luck with plants from IKEA. The IKEA plants have good mojo. In fact, I have had one for more than one year and I've only almost really killed it once!

Then I bought some of these. And then some of these. I think I am obsessed with Tindra candles. They just smell so good. The brown one I got is ginormous and it smells like glögg or spicy apples and cinnamon or something, and sometimes I think I want to eat it, but I restrain myself. It's the right thing to do.

Then I bought some floor decking for the bathroom. I'm not sure why I felt the need really, but it may have had something to do with the mat that was in the bathroom before going a long time between washes and forming its own government.

And then, shortly before being man-handled out of the store and bundled back into the car, I grabbed a lamp to replace the one Binky had eaten.

Finished off with a trip to Bunnings and eight metres of cable protector, and after 2 hours spent wrapping cables in said protector and masking-taping things to the floor, all was once again right in the world.

Bastard rabbit.

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2 comments on this post

  1. Rebecca8:25 pm

    A partner with a "limited tolerability-span for IKEA". You are lucky. Jeremy and I are equally matched with our IKEA compulsiveness. We drop Oskar off at Smaland and an hour is not long enough, so one of us has to retrieve him before we reach the checkouts. In fact, the Smaland deadline makes us even more desperate and we grab bird patterned trays, cute serviettes, finger puppets and only seem to stop because of the clock and a lack of free hands.

    Yes, I read your blog :)

  2. I love Smaland. I wish I could play in the ball pit tooo ._.


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