[They Used to Call Me Anal Girl. I Was Very Neat and Organized.]

So that song about walking 500 miles? I officially deem anyone willing to do that crazy. Seriously, that doesn't prove your love, just your insanity. I might be biased at the moment, considering we drove through several 500 mile stretches there that had absolutely nothing in them, but I think my point still holds.

Just throwing that out there.

10 days, 2600 miles, and three time changes later, I'm just about settled in to my new apartment. All things considered, it all went pretty smoothly. Mostly. There was the slight issue of my property manager not looking at the box before giving it to the previous resident, and thus giving away my brand new, freshly delivered PS3 (which he adorably kept calling a 3SP), but the dude brought it back, so I'm willing to let that slide.

Anyhow, the place looks adorable. I'll have pictures up on Facebook soon. Ish.

However. There is one place now on my Hate Is A Strong Word, But I Really, Really, Really Don't Like You list.

IKEA. The Swedish bastards.

You can charm me all you want with your $1 cinnamon buns and your delicious hot dogs. Forcing me to walk through your entire store is still evil. And after having done it about six times in the last three days, I'll be very happy to never ever do it again. Especially since everyone in your store seems to be stoned or drinking a regular supply of the pretty chemicals under the sink, therefore can't operate a shopping cart, walk in a straight line, or understand that when I make the impatient noise with my shoe, it means move the hell out of my way.

Furthermore, you need to have a rating system on your boxes. I've taken the liberty of coming up with one for you.

1 - This thing is awesome. You take it out of a bag and voila. Instant fluffy pillow.

2 - Only common sense required to put together. Put shade on lamp. Turn lamp on. Success!

3 - The instructions are pictures! You like pictures.

4 - The pictures lie. They say this has 64 screws, but there are definitely only 57. And 12 of them won’t fit where they claim they will.

5 - This piece may induce slight cursing and/or mutterings.

6 - This piece will induce definite cursing and/or throwing things.

7 - Attempting to assemble this will cause you to set fire to the pretend wood in frustration.

8 - Attempting to assemble this will cause you to set fire to your house in frustration, just to make sure the damn thing burns.

9 - Even though it doesn't require you to use any power tools, trying to put this together will most likely end with you slicing off your hand. Possibly both hands.

10 - The world will actually explode if you even try to take this out of the box. There are three digit numbers in the instructions. Seriously, buying this will cause the end of the world. Do you really want to be responsible for that?

I'm forwarding a copy of this blog to the CEO of IKEA, so definitely look for this new system next time you're there.

Luckily, daddy was here to do his Guy thing and put everything together for us. Including the obscenely complicated entertainment center, which now looks awesome. As does the rest of the place.

Oh, though I finally have something good to say about Texas. Besides the song Ohio (Come Back to Texas), anyways. In Amarillo, there's a millionaire with apparently nothing better to do with his money than bury 10 beat up old Cadillacs in the desert so people could turn them into art. I use the word lightly, in the modern sort of sense, since I'm not really sure spray painting "Bite me" counts as art.



I, on the other hand, made my mark in a way everyone could enjoy.