I hate Ikea

There. I've said it. I do. I really do hate Ikea. I know it's supposed to be this huge, wonderful land of affordable furniture, gadgets, and even textiles. There are some very neat things there. But overall, my distaste for shopping combined with the pure, unadulterated consumerism of Ikea leaves me feeling groggy and weird and vaguely empty.

This of course comes on the heels of a marathon 3 hour trip to Ikea with five of my closest friends. We went through the Whole Thing. For those of you that haven't been to an Ikea, this means that we wandered through room after room after room that was decorated with Ikea furniture, gadgetry, and storage solutions that you can't pick up to purchase -- that comes later. There were even a few fully-furnished tiny apartments along the way. Bathrooms, bedrooms, living rooms, kitchens, closets... It's like an interior design theme park. The theme, of course, being cheap Scandinavian housewares and furniture and people who are either slightly dazed or bordering on frantic.

I'm told that if you skip the Whole Thing and merely go for what you want, it's better. But you still wind up in the gigantic warehouse portion of the store where the tables and chairs and lamps and dressers and every other thing looms over you on tall, tall shelves in a cartoonish parody sort of way. Only it's neither a cartoon nor a parody. There are rows of them, neatly ordered, all ready to be traded for your dollars.

It's possible that I was just grouchy because I hit my shopping wall at 2 hours, or because I made the mistake of ordering salmon at the Ikea cafeteria, or the air conditioning, which always makes me feel off. Maybe it's because I didn't find exactly what I was looking for. Whatever the reason (most likely the hating shopping thing), I can honestly say that I don't want to go back. Ever. I may very well go back at some point, after the memory has faded and the lure of cd racks or really cool kitchen sinks or awesome cheese graters becomes too strong to resist. But I'm pretty sure it will be awhile.

Besides, clumsy girl has already offered to pick up anything I need. You know what they say: one girl's kryptonite is someone else's crack cocaine.

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