oh IKEA

I know, I know. How lame is it to travel half way around the world to go to a store that's all over the US? But I couldn't help it. I have an empty room. One cup to my name. No smelly-good candles. No tupperware or ziploc bags. No bath mat. No laundry bag. It was time for a trip to IKEA.

Now try to imagine IKEA in the land where it was born. I know I wasn't in Sweden, but Scandinavia is pretty darn close. I couldn't help but get excited. Six of us went all together, wandering around the three floors of wonder, getting yelled at in Danish because we couldn't read the signs, picking out the cheapest versions of what we needed and laughing until it hurt at Charlie and his huge matress. Then picking up a Danish hot dog, which is so different and so much better than in the US, wolfing it down, and getting prepared to lug everything back onto the crowded bus, back onto the train, and finally back to our respective rooms. What a day.