It turns out that predictions of outings on Sunday were greatly exaggerated. We slept late of course, but more than that, I had a pretty sad day and didn't really feel like dealing with people so I just kept cutting out one plan after another (Cross racing, handmade bike show, skating) until all that was left was shopping for bookshelves, which really couldn't be put off since Jess wouldn't have time to do it during the week. But at least it required a minimum of human contact.
We wanted a tall shelf for the guest room and also a shorter one to go under the kitchen counter in the dining room so our dining room table could perhaps remain cleared for actual meals. It starts with just our computers, but then mail and newspapers start piling up, and then textbooks and pretty soon it looks like a war zone.
We started at the Natural Wood Furniture store, where I bought my bookshelf, which I've had for about 15 years. I finally got around to staining it when we moved into this house last December. We picked out a seven foot high shelf to start and we'll fill that up and then see where we're at. Of course getting a nice real wood shelf meant going cheap on the little shelf and unfortunately that meant a trip to Ikea. On a Sunday.
The last time I was near the Ikea blight was on a pedal potluck picnic ride late in the summer. Getting there by car is a bit more challenging. Sure, the sign is easy to see (and thanks for ruining the view of Mt Hood from the airport by the way), but getting there is another matter. Without the written directions from Google maps I shudder to think how much pointless wandering we would have done.
I was disturbed to see how quickly a full-on strip mall is going up out there with all the usual suspects--Starbucks, Panda Express, Famous Footwear etc. It's like Vancouver escaped across the river and set up on our side.
Once we got inside the store, we stayed focused on the mission so as to spend as little time there as possible. Making my way through the sections, I had a good idea of how rats in a maze must feel. We finally found our item, but then it was another ten minutes of wandering to reach the warehouse. The signs shouldn't say 'Exit,' they should say 'Escape' with a little icon of broken shackles.
The high point of the trip was running into a couple of friends of mine, a lesbian couple I would've bet you $100 I'd never see in a place like Ikea. We commiserated on the horror of selling our souls for cheap furniture and went on our way.
I spent the rest of the evening doing homework, getting my old Powerbook laptop ready to sell (it's up on Craigslist if you know anyone who's interested) and straightening up in preparation for Beach Day. Jess put our new shelf together and Willow wasted no time in testing it out.
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Annie says: You're from Portland! I LOVE Portland! I would live there if I didn't live in LA. And I LOVE your cats. Keep writing. I'll keep reading.
Why am I posting this you wonder? Aside from trying to convince everyone that people really like me, my comments are moderated and I accidentally hit "reject" when I meant to his "publish." After I invited her here! The horror. Annie, I'm so sorry. And so lame. I hope you'll come back.
I blame this on having just come from therapy.
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