By Dwip May 10, 2008, 9:59 am Comments (6) RSS Feed for this post

Let us, for a moment, talk about home improvement, as we have so many times previously. Though usually our discussion topic is decks, let us move into the realm of interior decorating.

First, the before shot:

And now the after shots:

My air mattress dying has brought changes, as you can see. The bed, well, that was obvious. As it turns out, I need a soft bed, or I can’t sleep well. Combined with my need for storage space, it was clearly time I broke down and bought a bed. Meanwhile:

Sarah: You know, those blinds are crappy and falling apart. You should get curtains.

Me: Yes dear. One of these days. When I have time and money. And maybe if I’m not moving. Eventually.

*a week passes*

Sarah: You know, you should really get some curtains.

Me: Somehow, I feel as I’ve had this conversation before.

To make a long story short, we took a trip to the IKEA store. And let me tell you, that place is…something. On the one hand, the gigantor showroom area was impressive just for the size. On the other hand, the bright colors, furniture, and happy 60s music were on some level deeply disturbing, as if somehow at the end of the line, instead of the personable and helpful cashier we actually got, they were instead going to kill us and use our bodies in macabre rituals. This may just be me. And on the other other hand, the very large warehouse area full of boxed and ready to assemble furniture was deeply impressive, especially when I thought about how awe-inspiring somebody from a little more than a century ago would find the thing, because pretty much the only people capable of the logistics involved in putting all that together have been Western civilization in the last 80 or 100 years or so. And yes, I AM a history major, why do you ask?

In the event, after cracking the requisite IKEA jokes, thanks to Roberto, we found a bed. And then, disaster struck.

Sarah: You know, you should REALLY get some cu…


Now, prospective curtain shoppers at IKEA should realize that their curtains come in two lengths: 110 inches, or 98 inches. Now, perceptive viewers of those pictures should realize that my ceiling is in no way either of these lengths. And herein lies my revenge.

Sarah: These sure are way too long.

Me: Sure are.

Sarah: I guess I could probably fix that for you.

Me: I think, especially as you’re responsible for all of this, that you should.

I am told that later, sewing machines were involved. But I would not know about these things*, as I am a man, and my part of the proceedings involved manly things, such as putting the bed together.

Anyone who has put together furniture will know that there are a pretty obscene number of pieces to these things, including roughly 16,138 varieties of screws, and the instructions are generally…not so helpful. However, I have had extensive training in such matters:

Sarah: I cannot understand how this all fits together.

Me: Yes. This is because you did not play with Legos. I, however, DID play with Legos. I know exactly how this all works.

And then I gave her the bedside table to put together, which is the furniture equivilent of one of those $5 Lego sets with one guy and a treasure chest. This took her 20 minutes or so, thus proving my point about Lego construction as a life skill.

And so it went. Until I realized that I need to actually drill holes in the frame. And that I had no drill. And this is when, driving to Home Depot with Sarah, I realized that I had become my father. Because, as anyone who has ever done a home improvement project with him knows, there will inevitably be at least one sequence like this:

Dad: I really do need part/tool/lumber/thing.

Me: Better head for Jerry’s.

Dad: *drives off to Jerry’s with Mom*

For my own part, Home Depot is definitely not Jerry’s. At no time in my life did I ever envision undertaking an epic quest for a drill. In a hardware store. I also wanted an awl, but abandoned that as not happening when I realized they didn’t carry any such thing. As it was, I finally found a good hand drill masquerading as a heavy-duty screwdriver, and for a reasonable price, as opposed to all of the electric ones, which started around $100, and kept going.

After this, remaining assembly was essentially trivial. Beds were constructed, and we realized they were at excellent height for movie watching, and we did this, and it was good. And the people rejoiced.

And then I tried to sleep on it, and realized that the addition of slats and the futon mattress made the bed Very Hard. And while some people apparently like this, I for one cannot deal with my joints popping all day. Call me crazy. But this is why smart people invented the 4 inch thick foam mattress pad. Not a waterbed, but comfy. And I like comfy.

So yeah. My room is now better! Faster! Stronger! More sleeptastic!

* – And rumors that I took home ec and can actually use one are a lie. Yes.

Connecticut, Photoblogging Comments (6) RSS Feed for this post
Comments on Bedriffic
avatar Comment by Suzanne #1
May 10, 2008 at 4:20 pm

OMG!! Curtains!! And decorations on the walls!!


avatar Comment by Samson #2
May 10, 2008 at 8:30 pm

Tools? You needed TOOLS to put your bed together? Bah. Smart men buy this stuff and use our lego skills the proper way! By assembling our computer desks like they were legos, not woodshop projects :)

Yes, it’s not a bed, but it’s bigger than a bed. As in half the room is devoted to it bigger. I wish these guys sold beds. I really REALLY need a new bed.

avatar Comment by Dwip #3
May 11, 2008 at 10:33 am

1. And who’s responsible for most of those decorations, I wonder? Having friends with artistic talent totally pays off, it does.

2. For the most part, the tools thing was pretty negligable, except for the part where they got lazy on the bottom half. And the slats, while not requiring tools, were in all other ways made of sheer annoyingness.

Also, I took shop as well as home ec in HS. I built things like bookshelves from raw oak, after which a simple pre-cut pine bedframe is child’s play.

Oh, and the pine bedframe? Makes my room smell like pine a lot. I find that this is ok.

avatar Comment by Regina #4
May 11, 2008 at 6:52 pm

“Spatially challenged,” I believe, might be a good description of me when it comes to any project involving fitting things together.

I can drive without getting confused as to where the other cars are on the road, though, so it all works out in the end.

avatar Comment by Dwip #5
May 11, 2008 at 7:02 pm

The right side of the road/lane is another thing altogether, however.

Much to my discomfort.

avatar Comment by Rachael #6
May 18, 2008 at 11:21 pm

Dwip! Baybee! Every time I see some poor necrotic bunny after the effects of medical testing it makes me think of you.

And here you are, blogging about IKEA. Suddenly, it all comes together.