I hate Ikea

Hello dears! I think this is the third or fourth post in a row in which I've greeted you all as dears...weird, maybe that's my new thing now. Dears. Dears. Dears. Eh, I'm not so sure I love it, we'll see. Anyway, I had this awesome post planned for you all today involving a little DIY about how to avoid paying the icky price of $80 for a tulle skirt by making your own. Alas, as you can see, I'm not flaunting a gorgeous tulle skirt, which as I'm sure you can all surmise, means that it isn't quite finished yet. ;) Never fear, though, the post WILL come, and you will all be shocked by the simplicity of saving yourselves, oh, around 68 BUCKEROOS! Haha, saving money, so thrilling right?! Since aforementioned tulle skirt isn't done yet I had to come up with something different to wear. I instantly knew that I wanted to do something a little 50's retro inspired. What better way to do 50's inspired than with a little dash of bright red, pattern mixing with polka dots and florals, funky big glasses, and little oxfords? None I tell ya.

Now, before we get started on today's subject, which is pretty self explanatory by the title, let me just tell you all something. I have this teensy weensy little zit/pimple/bug bit type thingy on my forearm right now and it HURTS like a mother trucker every time I even so much as brush it against anything. ARGHH, I don't swear so just insert your own choice of expletive here while I scream "JELLY BEANS!!" because I just scraped my arm on my desk. I decided this little pain causing arm zit/pimple/bug bite thingy deserves a name, and it's name shall be Ted. I hate you Ted.  Also, I kind of feel like I look like I belong on a boat ad in that picture above. I mean, blue skies, me on a ladder that could easily be mistaken for the ladder to the spy tower on a ship. Total boat ad photo. Except that most ads involving boats always seem to be ads for sexy time inducing pills for old people. Yeckkkk. I think I just vomited in my mouth a little bit just typing that out.

 {h&m: button up top; Tanger Outlets: floral skirt similar; Bass: oxford shoes similar; F21: reader glasses similar; Target: clutch stolen from my sister}

Now, let's get started on this 'I hate Ikea' rant of mine. While I do believe that Ikea does genuinely have some pretty gosh dang cute household items for gosh dang cute prices, I hate the stupid place with the ire of a thousand burning suns. My first ever experience with the place was baaaaad. I went with my pops in search of a relatively inexpensive mattress. We thought it would just be a quick in and out trip. Ha ha HA. We were wrong. We got lost in that nasty labyrinth of a store for close to two hours. Now, I can't in all honesty blame our being lost for that long completely on the store. You see, when it comes to a sense of direction, my dad and I are kind of a pair of dunder heads. All the same, we where just trying to buy a mattress and get out. We ended up wandering through the ridiculous maze that is that store, before finally reaching the mattress section, only to realize that the mattress selection at Ikea would make even a hobo cringe. Seriously, those things felt like rocks and were grayer than Neville Longbottom's underpants. By that point we where so irritated that we just wanted to ditch our cart and leave. Easier said than done. Turns out Ikea forces you to go through it's ENTIRE store, like some sort of sick furniture haunted house, before you can get to an exit. Oh, and it's supposed short cuts? Yeah, they don't do jack crap other than loop you into another universe. I could've sworn that by the time we got out of that time vortex of a store my dad and I would have time traveled back to the stone age. I swore I'd never return, but inevitably, Ikea's stupid gosh dang cute prices lured me back in. I think the trick to that store is going with someone who fundamentally gets Ikea. I think the Universe split us humans up into two categories. The Ikea Knowledgeable and the Ikea Dunder Heads. Unfortunately, I am not an Ikea Knowledgeable human. There's just something about not being able to go directly to the item I'm looking for and get back out that get's under my skin. Well, that's my rant for ya. Are you Ikea Knowledgeable or an Ikea Dunder Head? What are your feelings on Ikea?

Much Love!

P.S. Just because I love you all so much, check out my 'checking out my own guns' whacky pose.