>Ikea was today’s outing… I bypassed the showroom and took the hidden-door shortcut directly to the marketplace (look at this, I go to Ikea often enough that I actually know the correct names for these things. That is sick and kinda scary) so as to avoid the throngs of people stopping dead in the middle of the walkway to admire the clever use of CD holders (not that I have any strong feelings about these people or anything).

I love Ikea. Where else can you go and leave with a bag of Swedish fish, a shoehorn-cum-snake, a heart pillow that actually hugs you back, little canvas compartments to help you organize your underwear, fancy shaped ice cube trays, a bathrobe, Lingonberry soda and a hot dog, a dresser and matching dining table, and a lazy susan all in one trip? Not that I bought any of that, mind you, but I could’ve. That’s what makes it so delicious. Anyway…what was I saying? Oh, yes, my Ikea trip.. one thing I did leave with was a magnetic knife rack for the wall. It looked uber functional (“now you cut the chicken breasts in half while the gruyere/prosciutto/swiss chard mixture cools,” I say, handily snatching my carver from the wall… oops! That’s my Martha Stewart fantasy talking – sorry!) and with a kitchen the size of a Sucrets box it seemed awfully practical. The question is – does it just make me look like an axe murderer (okay, knife murderer) who wants to keep her weapon of choice handy? There’s something so sinister about walking into a kitchen and having knives hanging there at the ready, shining and sharp, fully visible. I know, a wood block is no less knives-at-the-ready, but somehow the appearance is much more benign. But hey, maybe I’ll like appearing dangerous. I’ll have to work up a new character for when I’m cooking – maybe Martha Stewart’s prison persona?

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