In fact, I'm using it right now and it feels so good. It's the cushion on my darling but back-wrenchingly uncomfortable old folding chair, weirdo. Only $5.99 at IKEA today! The cushion that is; the chair cost maybe a dollar a bunch of years ago at a garage sale - the stain to make it pretty and the extra screws to make it usable probably still cost less than the fabulous Ritva.
Yes, I ventured to our new IKEA near the Portland airport today. I avoided the insanity of the grand opening last week, mainly because I was still clinging to the idea that I could continue to be a Compacter, but also because I cannot maintain my famously sweet and tolerant disposition when surrounded by maniacal shoppers. And when I heard that there were clowns and trapeze artists and yellow-shirted workers clapping shoppers through a human gauntlet, I shouted a "Hallelujah, praise Jesus I stayed home." Because I might have grabbed the nearest Bjorlak and started swinging...
I thought, like a normal person might, that the store would be open when I arrived at 9:20 but no. It's on Euro business time apparently. They let us in at 9:30 to enjoy the cafe, but we weren't allowed into the "showroom" until 10:00. I was surprised by a few things (besides the silly opening time): the number of people with their small (decidedly crabby) children in tow, the number of senior citizens raring to get in, and the fact that all of these people were having breakfast while they waited. Breakfast at IKEA. Just doesn't have the same ring as the classic movie, does it? Even if "Moon River" started playing on the intercom, I wouldn't be moved to purchase a meal. Maybe if the young George Peppard strolled in with a plate of Swedish eggs and bacon...Maybe. He'd have to be singing, and only to me. And of course I would suddenly look like Audrey Hepburn and the world would be better.
Anyway. I strolled through the showroom tableaux, which I immediately, irrationally loved and wanted to replicate throughout my house (as the IKEA devils planned). But then they started to irritate me with their perfection - where were the stacks of half-read magazines, the dirty inside-out socks, the piles of random papers of mysterious importance? Oh, I know. They are all out of sight in the precious Snarflog boxes and Grenluk baskets, which are only $4.99 each! But I would need, oh, five hundred of them! Grrr. Or, in Swedish, something like Garrrr.
I had a few moments of angst over adorable rugs for my kids' rooms and a different chair for my sacred space and, of course, an entire new kitchen. But I settled with the good ol' Ritva, a ceramic pot for the languishing lavender by my porch, two skirt hangers (they won't let me have them at Goodwill! Believe me, I've tried; they probably have my picture at every register), and a package of striped napkins (no chlorine bleach!). Grand total = just under $16. Thank you and haj de (which IKEA says means "goodbye" but I translated it online to "shark they." Just as I suspected...)
