It doesn't have to be good to be perfect

Lemme tell y'all, Ima think long and hard before I buy me another gruelling assembly project disguised as a piece of IKEA furniture. As welcomerain can tell you, the table was coming together pretty well until it came time to screw on the top. That was when we discovered how half-assed the pre-drilling was by failing to get any screw in more than halfway.

So monshu and I went out and bought a bit to ream out the holes. I don't remember what brand, but whatever it was, DON'T BUY IT! It broke off in one of the holes. Fortunately, it was one of the last ones and the broken piece came right out again. However, of the ones it reamed, several still stubbornly resisted screws. I used the drill as much as I could, but the brackets were too close to the crosspieces--e.'s right--I need an electric screwdriver for this kind of work. I ended up destroying the tip of my phillips by pushing as hard I could and turning it as slowly as it would go; I couldn't see the heads very well, so who knows how much stripping I did.

All I can say is, thank the good lord I didn't attempt this when I was sick! Then I'd decided I couldn't finish up before I had to give welcomerain back the tools. I was right that it was an hour-long project, but I didn't realise it would leave me so exhausted afterwards. I got it into the kitchen by myself, but it left me limp. Oiling it perked me up--after all that heavy lifting and strenuous screwing, it was a pleasure--but I think I stained a shirt in the process.

Still, it's done. I completely forgot to look at it this morning, when monshu promised it would look perfect. The important thing is that when he come over, we can get cooking. I'm beginning to see the fact that they didn't have the companion piece in stock as a small mercy.

From the prosaic to the ridiculous

Sorry, nibadi, but I can't speak to what degree of labour exploitation, foreign and domestic, goes into a typical IKEA® product. However, I have been able to answer the burning question of what they call their products in a big part of the Third World, namely China. The same things they call them everywhere else--

In theory, that is.

Some Americans might be surprised to find out that the vast majority of those droll, funky monikers for coffee tables and pencil holders are just simple Swedish words. (I think I pointed out that the much-celebrated Poäng, for instance, is nothing more than French point in Nordic garb.) The decision not to translate them into English was probably a strategic branding one, since they trade heavily on their Scandinavian origins in the States.

I wouldn't think that Swedish products would have the same cachet in China, but what do I know about marketing? (Besides the fact that I want to stay far, far away from careers involving it.) Of course, the huge difference in script means that choosing not to translate isn't as simple as just writing the word the same way you would back home. To transliterate into Chinese, you need to select characters--roughly one for each syllable, depending on how well the word in question fits the Chinese sound system. And this isn't Japanese, where you've got a phonetic syllabary at your disposal. No, each of these characters has an associated meaning, no matter how obscure.

If you've ever had your name done into characters, you know they generally try to pick positive ones. E., for instance, has hers transliterated as Ai1li4sha1 "fine dust / white jasmine / sand". If you're thinking to yourself, That doesn't sound especially positive, well, consider the alternatives. For instance, the most commonly-used characters for the syllable ni have the meanings "nun" and "mud". So Nixon (Ni2ke4sen1) is either "nun overcomes forest" or "mud overcomes forest"--you tell me which is worse.

What does this do to IKEA® names? Now that I can finally load their Chinese site, I took a look at some table lamps. Ǻrstid, which means "season" (literally "time of the year"), came out as Ao4si1di2, "mysterious thoughts advance". Fjorton or "fourteen" is now Fei1yue1dun4, "fragrant treaty pauses" (or "frugal appointed meal" or "radish arranges a break"; Chinese is even freer with verbing and nouning than English, so the possibilities multiply). Will this really lure the Chinese to snap them up quicker than if they were named Ji4jie2 or Shi2si4? In the latter case almost certainly--Shi2si4 is homophonous with "ten deaths". What would you rather be reminded of when you snap on the light: Seasons, arses, or mysterious thoughts?

Gitcher validation rightcheer!

Thanks for all the encouragement, sibs! However, I'm still here at work, hiding from my responsibilities. I'm very hungry, so that will motivate me to leave soon, but before I do, I just want to say--

BLAH BLAH BLAH caitalainn BLAH BLAH BLAH Texas sucks BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH caitalainn BLAH BLAH Fluevog BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH blancmange BLAH BLAH caitalainn BLAH BLAH BLAH

(Oh, and you need to send welcomerain your address so she can send you your tea.)