Disposable Furniture and Overpriced Coffee
Yes, I know I've posted once today already. But I wrote this during my little holiday, and I wanted to share it with you...
Disposable Furniture and Overpriced Coffee
Having spent my teenage years being tortured for my refusal to run with the pack, and then having spent my subsequent years being celebrated for the same, it is a source of great sorrow to me that I have fallen for two of the most generic obsessions of the 21st century.
The first, of course, is Ikea, which I have mentioned a few times before. While on the one hand I hate that it is possible to play ‘spot the Ikea’ every time you visit someone’s home (Sparky and Coxy have our lamps and bookcase, Monsieur Coustard has our sofa, LadyDi has our TV table and the dining chairs that I really covet), on the other hand I can’t resist the chunky modern styles, the plethora of useful/useless home accessories, and most of all the price.
I keep thinking I should cut out the semi-disposable Swedish furniture and go find a good junk shop/flea market/antiques fair. But let’s face it, that isn’t going to happen. I’ve been seduced. They’ve brainwashed me. I even want to visit Sweden just to see if it is really as green, clean and inviting as it looks in the Ikea magazine. Yep, I’m lost.
The second obsession, however, is one that I’ve ebbed and flowed with over the last seven or so years. I go through periods of cold turkey, followed by binges that last weeks, then try to ration myself and somehow never quite cut it out altogether. No, I’m not talking about booze (or cigarettes for that matter), but Starbucks.
Yes, I know they’re an evil global empire. I do. But I also know that they make grande skinny gingerbread lattes that wake me up in the mornings and send me to work with a (caffeine high) smile on my face. I detest being one of the coffee cup carrying posse at 8am each day, but I still do it at least once a week. You can tell I’m a Starbucks expert by the fact that I get to the counter and order fluidly. There’s no stumbling over pronunciation, debating about syrup, or forgetting to specify how ‘caff’ I want it. I always know what I want. Hell, I even get the top quality chat du jour with the guy behind the counter about the new coffee beans from Africa and the introduction of sugar-free hazelnut syrup.
The only good thing about my Starbucks addiction is that I can’t afford to keep splurging on it. And this has proved my salvation. I don’t feel quite so bad about funding global evil if I’m not doing it more than once a week (yes, you can abuse me for my shallow hypocrisy – just hit ‘comment’ at the bottom of the post).
Here is my ultimate fear though: what if Ikea started putting Starbucks concessions in its stores? The thought sometimes keeps me awake at night. Me and all the other hopeless sheep…
Disposable Furniture and Overpriced Coffee
Having spent my teenage years being tortured for my refusal to run with the pack, and then having spent my subsequent years being celebrated for the same, it is a source of great sorrow to me that I have fallen for two of the most generic obsessions of the 21st century.
The first, of course, is Ikea, which I have mentioned a few times before. While on the one hand I hate that it is possible to play ‘spot the Ikea’ every time you visit someone’s home (Sparky and Coxy have our lamps and bookcase, Monsieur Coustard has our sofa, LadyDi has our TV table and the dining chairs that I really covet), on the other hand I can’t resist the chunky modern styles, the plethora of useful/useless home accessories, and most of all the price.
I keep thinking I should cut out the semi-disposable Swedish furniture and go find a good junk shop/flea market/antiques fair. But let’s face it, that isn’t going to happen. I’ve been seduced. They’ve brainwashed me. I even want to visit Sweden just to see if it is really as green, clean and inviting as it looks in the Ikea magazine. Yep, I’m lost.
The second obsession, however, is one that I’ve ebbed and flowed with over the last seven or so years. I go through periods of cold turkey, followed by binges that last weeks, then try to ration myself and somehow never quite cut it out altogether. No, I’m not talking about booze (or cigarettes for that matter), but Starbucks.
Yes, I know they’re an evil global empire. I do. But I also know that they make grande skinny gingerbread lattes that wake me up in the mornings and send me to work with a (caffeine high) smile on my face. I detest being one of the coffee cup carrying posse at 8am each day, but I still do it at least once a week. You can tell I’m a Starbucks expert by the fact that I get to the counter and order fluidly. There’s no stumbling over pronunciation, debating about syrup, or forgetting to specify how ‘caff’ I want it. I always know what I want. Hell, I even get the top quality chat du jour with the guy behind the counter about the new coffee beans from Africa and the introduction of sugar-free hazelnut syrup.
The only good thing about my Starbucks addiction is that I can’t afford to keep splurging on it. And this has proved my salvation. I don’t feel quite so bad about funding global evil if I’m not doing it more than once a week (yes, you can abuse me for my shallow hypocrisy – just hit ‘comment’ at the bottom of the post).
Here is my ultimate fear though: what if Ikea started putting Starbucks concessions in its stores? The thought sometimes keeps me awake at night. Me and all the other hopeless sheep…
posted by Mookmoo at 4:43 pm
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