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Saturday, October 1, 2011

Ikea and the HRC

K is my friend from school. We are both in the graduate social work program, but we actually knew each other in high school, like mumble20mumble years ago. This is great because we had an instant bond and started sitting together in class right away, making snarky comments under our breath about the professors and yukking it up in our little corner of the room. We are awesome. Running into her after 20 years (I can't believe it's been that long, holy crap we're old) has been a blessing! I don't think either one of us would have survived the first week of school if the other hadn't been there. We are definitely keeping each other sane. Or, what our version of sane is, anyway. Don't ask me to define it, because it's pretty much the opposite of what everyone else thinks it is.

Anyway, today K and I are at the school library working diligently on a research project that is making us both crazy enough to pull our hair out. We've been taking turns with the break-downs and the bolstering of the other's confidence. Today is K's turn to freak out. I listen patiently and try to reassure in my best Tony Little imprssion that "You can do it!!" which makes her crack a smile, at least. (Although, I am forced to admit, as soon as the words are out of my mouth, that the Tony Little thing is going to have to remain out of the therapist toolbox. Funny? Yes. Inspirational? Not so much.)

Anyway, K is freaking out (and rightly so, this research class is a B*TCH). I am sharing my notes with her and pep-talking her, all while digging for my highliter in my little pen & pencil bag. Yes, I'm a dork, I have a little bag for my writing utensils. AND it's lavender. AND monogrammed. Aren't you jealous? So, right... digging around for highlitey thing... and my HRC sticker, which finally came in the mail like a friggin' year late, falls out and onto the table. I pick it up and start to complain how it finally came in the mail, so late that I had completely forgotten about it. She looks at it quizzically, cocks her head, and says "Mmm..." which I can only interpret to mean she's hungry for stickers, since she's only had a tiny gluten-free protein bar to eat all friggin' day. Poor K, her tummy hates her.
HRC logo sticker


me: You know what this is right? (Please don't eat my sticker.)
K: Um, yeah, it's Swedish or something, right? Like, the Swedish flag, or.... doesn't it have to do with Sweden?

I raise an eyebrow. Seriously? I know I was trying not to laugh but failed miserably.

me: WHAT?!  (I exclaim through a snort of laughter.... ok maybe not exclaim so much as whisper really loudly. We are in the library, after all. And a snort. A loud whisper-snort.)
K: What? Aren't those the colors of Sweden?
me: I don't know, I thought the colors were red & white... oh wait, no, that's Switzerland... or is that just their knives?
K: (laughs and puts her down on the table and mumbles something about Ikea)
me: What? IKEA? (I'm confused.) This is the Human Rights Campaign logo. (shaking the sticker) You know, GLBT rights...
K: They're the colors of IKEA. Blue & yellow, OMG. That's why I thought that. (She is now laughing hysterically.)
Bullwinkle, the IKEA logo and the Swedish flag. Who could ask for more?

We get dirty looks from the people in the library. I want to flip them all the bird. Or flash them. Something. But I can't because I'm laughing too hard.

Later on I get home and tell Oaky about it and he says: well, yeah, isn't there some IKEA union equality thing going on?
me: what? what are you talking about?
Oaky: You know, Ikea, the union thing, equality....
me: OMG you're just repeating yourself, this doesn't clarify anything.
Oaky: It's been in the news recently...
me: When do listen to the news?
Oaky: silence...stares at me
me: It's the freakin' Human Rights Campaign logo! What the hell is wrong with you people?!

This, of course, is made much funnier by the fact that all 3 of us have advocated for GLBT rights for years. However, right now, I am ashamed to know them.

jk I love you guys. But seriously, what the HELL?

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