BEDD #7: IKEA

Although I've seen (500) Days of Summer more times than I can count, and although I enjoy shopping for funky home furnishing as much as the next aesthetically-interested teen, I had never set foot in an IKEA... UNTIL TODAY! *Triumphant Mario Sound*

Just in case you're unaware of the shiny, well-organized joy that is this home furnishing retailer, let me break it down for you: Basically, Sweden undercover colonized America by building these blue and yellow fortresses in all our major cities. These places run for blocks and blocks, and almost never have only one floor. They display these beautifully decorated home setups for aisles and aisles, providing goods for infant bedrooms to home offices to Mars. I mean, they have entire rooms just full of rolly, spinny chairs that you can roll and spin in and no one judges you for it. Seriously. I rolled down and aisle, and the employees didn't react. AND THE NUMBER OF BEDS I WAS ALLOWED TO SHAMELESSLY FLING MYSELF ON! Don't even get me started on those fluffy, down-stuffed pieces of heaven. I'm pretty sure one of them was a crib that was clearly intended for toddler twins. It didn't stop me. I curled up in that thing like I belonged. 

The Abby Twins modeling in IKEA My friend Abby and I (yes we have matching names and we also have matching haircuts and we dress the same sometimes see left!~ ) ran around the store and planned out our glamourous apartment when we inevitably move in together. We picked out cool loft beds and entertainment centers, made room for multiple coffee makers, and even found a tiny table and chairs set for our cats to enjoy dinner on. In a fit of improv hilarity, she sat down at one of the office displays, consulted her iProp™computer, and informed me that Yale had reviewed my application, and despite my lacking ACT score, had decided to "full ride yo' ass!"

I haven't touched on the best part: THE FOOD COURT. See, this wasn't just a Let's-go-to-Ikea-and-look-at-pretty-things outing. My friend Abby is what I like to call a SUPER SWEDE. Her mother's cultural background is very Swedish... and so is her Father's. She is so super super Swedish, and I don't think there's a bigger time of year for Swedes than Christmas. For those unfamiliar with Swedish culture, maybe this traditionally Christmas-associated image will conjure up some associations? (If you were raised on the American Girl books like I was, you probably get where I'm going with this at least a little.) From what I understand, there's something with a Saint Lucia and she brings Christmas joy and light to all Swedish families by singing a lot and wearing candles in her hair. My friend Abby was THE SAINT LUCIA for all Chicagoland last year, but she sings in an all-Swedish choir year-round. She's got killer pipes, so I've always kinda wanted to see her sing in an entirely different language. IKEA, forever proud of its Swedish wonderment, hosts the choir around Christmas time. And LET ME TELL YOU. Watching little children dressed all in white with halos of sparkly stuff is enough to give anyone a little dose of holiday spirit. Throw in that the boys wear these totally comical cone hats with stars on them, and one special little boy who dresses in all red with his ears sticking out of a stocking cap to make him look thoroughly elvish, and even I became a little high on Christmas Cheer. And then. AND THEN. The most magical words in American vernacular mixed with the title of "Traditional Swedish Christmas Meal," rung like church bells in my ears:

"ALL YOU CAN EAT BUFFET"

Little Swedish angels sang glorious praises on high as IKEA employees piled vats of potatoes, trays of smoked salmon, and bowls of glorious Swedish meatballs on a long buffet table, all ready for my plate. It was completely acceptable (in fact, I felt awkward not conforming to my fellow buffet-eaters) to take a tray with two plates and just load them up for yourself. The suspiciously baby bump-esque bulge in my dress in the photo above is nothing of the reproductive nature. I JUST REALLY LOVE GOOD FOOD. And when it available and delicious  I do not intend on denying myself these sweet pleasure life has to offer! I swore multiple times during the night that I was going to move to Sweden and become morbidly obsese, and by the end of the evening, even though I had been sipping what I was told was non-alcoholic Glogg, I raised my glass high into the air and told the leaders of the Nordic Choir group, "GOD BLESS SWEDEN!" 

I drank the Lingonberry kool-aid, and I totally want to be Swedish now. That, or I just really appreciate this culture's unabashed Christmas cheer.

There's a Doctor Who quote from my favorite Christmas special, "A Christmas Carol," where Kazran says, "On every world, wherever people are, in the deepest part of the winter, at the exact mid-point, everybody stops and turns and hugs. As if to say, "Well done. Well done, everyone! We're halfway out of the dark." He later turns this into a rant about how he hates Christmas, but when peace is restored and everyone is happy at the end, the Doctor smiles to himself and repeats, "Yeah. Halfway out of the dark." And every part of me can't help but smile. That's exactly how I feel about this whole Christmas season. It's so dark, inside and out, and it's just about when I can't handle the stresses of life anymore. So I go out of my way to spend time with the best of friends, eat, drink, and be merry. And that's what I did tonight, and it was utterly wonderful :)

Days left of BEDD: 24

Now Playing: Ed Sheeran forever because asd;lfkjas

Number of Beds I've flung myself onto today: Approximately 8.

Number of Swedish Meatballs in my belly: 11? I stopped counting.

Number of Steps I have to take to move my lazy bones from my couch to my actual bed before I go to sleep: 17

People who are probably going to post this and fall asleep on the couch: Me.