A few weeks ago, I shared with the world (or at least those who read this blog) the trials and tribulations of my relationship with couches. Today, I witnessed one of the very phenomena about which I wrote, the instant transformation into adulthood brought on by the first-time purchase of a brand new sofa.
Oh, how I wish I could say this blog was about My New Couch, but it’s not. (First will come the post about My New Job.) Happily for me, though, the proud new owner is my BFF in Vancouver, which means I’m going to have plenty of time to get to know this couch. BFF and I spent the day together at Ikea shopping for furniture for her – yes, it takes a special kind of friend to go along for that kind of adventure, and it turned out to be the most fun I can recall having in the land-of-the-made-up-Swedish-word. All it takes to make it through Ikea unscathed, I’ve now learned, is great company, broccoli and cheese soup with garlic bread from the cafe when you’re starving, and falling in love with a couch.
While it wasn’t on her list of what she’d gone there to buy, BFF took the impressive plunge and bought the coolest, most comfortable, and best looking sofa in the house – the “Karlstad corner sofa” pictured above. It’s being delivered to her pad tomorrow, just in time to toast to it and the New Year at the same time.
I love this couch.
“Sit on it,” she said after we first eyed it, motioning to the corner spot on the floor model, and I did as instructed. Within a millisecond, I knew this was the one. The deep seat, the firm (but not too firm) cushions, the perfectly raised arm rests, the corner (!) – this couch had it all. From way down at the other end, BFF looked at me and smiled, and I knew she felt the same way.
After we made it through the long checkout queue and were waiting in an even longer queue to place the home delivery order, BFF said, “Now I feel like a real grown up.” You see? That’s what I’m talkin’ about. That’s what buying your first couch will do for you.
I may not have my own couch yet, but at least I’ve got dibs on my little corner of the Karlstad, and that seems like cause enough for celebration. Champagne, anyone?