100 happy days :: day 77

new bedding. fresh and spring-like.

tuesday lessons

things i learned today:

~ the term slacktivism.

~ that tuesday is a pretty good day to go to ikea.

~ that the meatballs in ikea are now self-serve. and it is rather hard to scoop up ten. and that they've switched out the little boiled potatoes with mash. and that you get enough sauce (gravy for my american readers) when you get to ladle it up yourself. i think the sauce is where they put the crack.

~ i suspect several of the families we saw in ikea were actually living there. i think you could get away with it for awhile. one of them had four kids, and it looked as if the two smallest ones had been born there. here's one of them, see how she's making herself at home?

~ if you want to provoke a dane, say something about a flag. (i did not actually want to provoke anyone when i mentioned a flag today, but boy oh boy did i kick a hornets' nest. and it wasn't even the danish flag i mentioned!) hmm, i wonder what they'll make of my nails when they see them:

~ it's amusing to kick the occasional hornets' nest. even if you didn't mean to.

~ you can get a lot done if you apply yourself.

~ and occasionally it's a good idea to look at the world from a different angle.

what has tuesday taught you?

ikea is more than just meatballs

i hadn't been to ikea in several months and i went the other day to stock up on the throw pillow cases i use for my etsy pillows. i wandered into the fabric section and fell in love with several fabulous fabrics. ikea has some seriously great fabric designers. in addition to the one that i got to make a bedspread for sabin's new and improved big girl room, i found these beauties as well (please forgive the pictures, our light sucks this time of year):

this makes me think of dr. seuss.

this has a dr. seuss-ish quality as well and i love the colors

birds and cages in cheerful colors. i can think of lots of good things to make with this.

and a seaside scene to remind us of warmer, lighter times.

i've finished sabin's bedspread and made a couple of pillows as well. i "quilted" the fabric to a fleece (also from ikea) and put a binding around it, which i sewed on with the machine to save time. i've decided that what kills me about binding is that hand sewing takes forever.

#86 - bedspread for sabin's bed

the fabric is designed by lotta kühlhorn for ikea.

it's so cool i decided she needed credit.

i know this picture is blurry, but the light is horrible these days and i wasn't patient, nor can i hold still.

also blurry, i realize. again with the lack of light. yet i show you the crap pictures anyway

because i want to count #87.

stranger in a strange land

i did, in fact, survive my ikea run. turns out that going on an ordinary tuesday morning, half an hour from opening time is a great time to go. i parked second from the end closest to the door (that usually only happens to husband, he has the world's best parking karma) and didn't have to battle any crowds. it seemed to be largely old people and a nursing home for younger handicapped folks on an outing. they seemed to be enjoying themselves, so no stress. the only drawback was that they were out of the shades i went there for (which didn't stop me from buying 2,000 kroner of other stuff--why can't i just walk past the fabric section?). i did, however, find the shades in another store nearby, so no return trip to ikea anytime soon (phew). but enough of all that boring crap...i just thought i had to give you an update since i had issued such a dire warning this morning.

* * *

after my big spree in ikea, i went to buy groceries. in the grocery store, i witnessed one of those things that i simply cannot, from a cultural standpoint, even after more than ten years living in this country, understand.  from my perspective, danes are really closed. there's no public chatting with strangers. there's no greeting you if they don't know you. and there is a curious lack of awareness that other people exist in public spaces.

nearly every time i'm out in public, i have at least one experience wherein i'm standing, waiting patiently to get past someone who is taking up the entire aisle and is entirely oblivious to the fact that anyone might want past. this happens both in the grocery store and in the car, especially in a parking lot. a total and utter obliviousness to the very existence of other people. and, because of cultural pressure, no one ever says anything, so i end up feeling that i can't even really say "excuse me" to go by, you just have to wait until they meander on to the next door of the dairy case. most of the time, it never even dawns on them that they were in someone's way.

this obliviousness to others can also result in them directly running into you or over your foot with their cart or their baby carriage. and 8 out of 10 times, you will not get an apology for this. you will hardly be deemed worthy of a look and by god, what the hell were you doing there anyway, they completely didn't notice you because you didn't meet back in kindergarten when they met all the people they needed for a lifetime.

so today, while i was standing in line for bread (and feeling rather soviet), i saw a woman run smack into a person in a wheelchair--totally her fault, not even remotely his, by the way. and not just any wheelchair, but a really special, motorized one that the person in question was operating by resting his chin on a special joystick. so an extremely handicapped person. and this woman just gave the man some kind of a smirk, but did not utter even the slightest whisper of an apology. it may very well be that the person in the wheelchair lacked the power of speech, but didn't he deserve an "excuse me?"

i was dumbfounded and found that my heart was actually pounding. with some effort, i held myself back from leaving the line and going over and asking the woman, loudly and in front of all of kvickly (that was the name of the grocery store), what her problem was that she couldn't even have the common courtesy to apologize to a deeply disabled person. and i have kicked myself ever since. what is it that stops me in such a situation? it's the pressure of the culture around me. but it's also a desire not to appear righteous, which i also deeply dislike. i could have overcome the culture by confronting her in english, thereby displaying that i'm not of this culture. but i didn't do it. and i really wish i had.

i fear i'll never really understand the danes, because i can't make up an explanation in my head that makes such a situation ok. there's no common courtesy, no common decency in it, especially for a people who are otherwise all about welfare and being certain people are provided for. maybe it's that people think they did their part in giving 50% of their salary in taxes, and that's as far as their human decency extends.  it's not that i feel superior, i just don't think i'll ever really get used it.

wish me luck

i'm going to ikea.

if i return, i will write a real blog posting. if i do not survive the experience, i want you to know that i loved you all.

a supposedly fun thing...

...i'll never do again...*

reminder to self:  do not, no matter how great and immediate your need for shelves, lamps and storage boxes may seem, go to ikea on the first day it is open after it was just closed for 3 days for christmas. especially if that day is a saturday. and please remember that waiting 'til almost 4 p.m. to go (when it closes at 5), which you thought was an especially cunning little part of the plan because you were sure that everyone would be gone by then--is a very bad idea. for one, the other people all had the same idea. and for another, those who got there at 1 and 2 and 3 were all still there, wandering aimlessly in a meatball-induced haze, looking for their children.

arriving at 4 makes you very focused, it's true. and focus is very good in ikea, especially when there are approximately eight gazillion other people there. mostly people who apparently decided over christmas to get divorced and now need to totally outfit another home. so very, very cheery people. those who weren't among the newly separated were out airing their ill-behaved children, who they had been cooped up with in their own homes for the past three days. and now those children were all running amok in ikea, screaming things like, "you weren't waiting for me mom, why weren't you waiting for me?" to a mom who was clearly doped up on xanax for the experience (an advantage you sadly did not share).

on top of it, when you arrive one hour before closing, you get the pleasure of the increasingly insistent voice on the overhead speaker reminding you that ikea will be closing 48 minutes from now. then 47. then 46. and will you please come and pick up your children at the child check area? immediately, or we will mark them down to clearance prices.

in short, an experience that can only be made better by a healthy gin & tonic. so on that note, i think i'll go make one before we have to assemble those very important and essential shelves.

* for the title, i credit david foster wallace's very clever book of the same name.