Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Inappropriately Refreshing Ikea Illumination of Epiphany

Writing about boys or my actual feelings it not really my thing here on Big Butter but sometimes is ok right?
So, 3 years ago I had my heart ripped out by the Cuban. So I did what the magazines say and took a year off to “find myself” which worked out fine for the first year, I guess. No dates, no nothing. Good so far right?
The next year I got some wild hair up my ass and thought it would be a good idea to check in on the dude I didn’t want to marry in Nashville 4 yrs before. That didn’t work out and reminded me that my poor decision making in men isn’t quite fined tuned yet. So add on another full year and here we are. 3 years later.
Aside from a good yearly breakdown, I have been totally fine being single. I started going to school again and have a great outlook on life. There is a guy that I really like but he has his head up his ass so what can I do. That was a big kick to the ute. Whatevs.
This brings us to last weekend…
I decide I need to declutter/organize my condo. So I pick out this gigantic bookcase from ikea, destroy my art studio area to make room for it and go to get this bookcase.

I get my huge cart and go to aisle. Then! I get a how-have-you-been kind of email from the ex . I haven’t spoken to him in a year! Not since I told him I would have him arrested for stalking and possibly shoot him with a tranquilizer gun. I delete it and focus on the bookcase.
Ok 3 boxes, ok. Then I see in big red wording along the package “THIS ITEM REQUIRES TWO PEOPLE TO ASSEMBLE”. And that’s when all hell broke loose in Ikea.
The combination of being on the verge of cat lady syndrome + the ex’s email + the cluster fuck of liking a dude and it not going anywhere + THIS ITEM REQUIRES TWO PEOPLE TO ASSEMBLE = Complete nuclear meltdown in Ikea aisle.
I screamed FUCK THIS! (outloud) leave my cart, call Irma, crying & spitting out a million words per second.
Me (all in one breath & bawling/laughing):  DUDE! Thisfuckingbookshelfsays I needTWOpeople! I DONOTHAVETWOOOOO PEOPLE! GODDAMNIT! and******emailedme!WHY! OHBECAUSE ITS HISBIRTHDAYTODAY! FUCKHIM! FUCK!FUCK!FUCK! Whyhave I doneallthisfuckingwork tobehappywithmyself andfigureoutshit justto getshitonat Ikea! And Iactuallylike****andhe likesme! Butweare never gonnameet! I dontneedmorefriends! I needafuckingperson to helpmeget thisfuckingbookcase togetherbefore I become a hoarderandstart shitting inWalgreensbags! Andhavedeadcatsin myclothes! fuckthisshit! I leftmycart intheaisle& whyam Icrying!whatthefuckishappening!!!! ButI’mNOTok apparently! Becausethis shit, thisshitthatisgoingdown rightnowwww isn’tOK!
Irma: Umm, Maria.
Me: yes?
Irma: first. Did you take your meds?
Me: WHAT! YES!! AND FUCK YOU! My life is crumbling in IKEA damn it!
Irma: OK OK! I just wanted to check because sometimes you know you don’t get them with the mail order and all…
Me: ya that’s true. Sorry.
Irma: Ok, slow down…and what the fuck did you just say? Ikea? the dude? A bookshelf? Dead cats? An email? Its your birthday?
Irma does her sanity check / best friend magic and I came back to reality quickly. So I spend the weekend hating IKEA, how they don’t include screws and shit with their products & how everything is in Swedish Meatballs language.
I decide that aside from my meltdown in IKEA, I should prolly start dating again. What’s a gal to do in the twenty-elevens? I don’t go out, my friends are married, guys at school are socially inept. Fuck it. I decide to do match.com. Again…If anything it is always good for a laugh right? (See these gems from before)
One of the first dudes who “winks” at me is this gem.
Now before you people get all pissy with me. They wanna be treated like equals, right? Don’t be get all wishy washy because he’s in a wheelchair. Perhaps youuu have the problem with him being a wheelchair? Maybe you’re the discriminating one, Huh? Ya think about that. LOL
 It’s the COMBINATION OF WHEELCHAIR & HIS LAVISH KNOWLEDGE OF WOMEN.
You’re an “EX-PIMP”? And your name is “GOLDIE”?
“she don't need illumination, (she glows in the dark)” I know what illumination means, thank you.
I decided not to “wink” back at him. For a million reasons but mostly because when I read his profile this scenario popped in my head.
Goldie: Hey girl, hey (all sweet and pathetic like) come err, how you doin? How was your day? Good? That’s nice. You look nice...Then grabs my neck and SLAMS MY FACE ONTO HIS TIRE! BITCH! I TOLD YOU TO WEAR DEM GREEN PANTIES! (and smacks me with anything in his reach)
Me: Why do I have to wear the green ones?
GOLDIE: CUZ DAT’S DA CULA OF MONEY HO! And slaps the shit out of me. SILLY HO!


Soooo at this point I think I have 2 choices.
1.    Invest in some cats.
2.    Stay away from IKEA.

















Godspeed BITCHES!!!

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