I’ve lived in my apartment in Park Slope for about seven months now, yet somehow I’ve entirely neglected getting curtains for the windows in the living room. It never really occurs to me that this is a problem unless I’m home during the afternoon on a sunny day. At night, I like the uncovered windows … the streetlights outside, the domestic scenes illuminated in my neighbors’ apartments. But in the daytime, the sunlight really streams in, beating down so mercilessly on the little wooden table where I sit sipping my coffee that I start sweating even if I strip down to my underwear. The sun may also may be damaging my laptop, I consider … but I do nothing about this (perhaps I am unconsciously "punishing" the technology for the hold it has over us all). But today I was seized by a mania of activity. Before I even knew what had come over me, I was striding off down the street toward the bus stop, bound for the shuttle bus that takes you out to the IKEA in Red Hook, where apparently they sell obscenely cheap furniture.

"Today," I crowed triumphantly, as the women with their baby strollers gaped at me in alarm, "I will buy curtains!" (However, being the type of person who obviously doesn’t ever buy furniture, I did sort of doubt the existence of this "IKEA" place — but I had talked to a few friends who said they’d actually been there, which tempered my skepticism somewhat.) To my surprise, the shuttle bus arrived immediately, pulling up to the curb just as I got to the bus stop. The automatic door swung open slowly — but in a rather pleasant, friendly way, it seemed to me. I boarded jauntily, followed by a dozen or so other hopeful cheapskates and bargain hunters, and off we went. It turns out Red Hook isn’t so far from Park Slope at all, though as we rumbled past the numerous old factories, neglected warehouses and ramshackle storefronts that make up the landscape in between, I was reminded how truly crummy certain parts of Brooklyn are. Ah, but once you reach the waterfront, everything is freshly manicured and sculpted to perfection, and IKEA rises out of the ground like a giant blue-and-yellow mountain — like, truly, this is a … destination!

Once inside the monstrosity, I immediately began to swoon. Every aspect of IKEA rebuffs me. I am an inept shopper to begin with. And on this scale it’s almost hopeless. An abundance of choices confounds me. Crowds disgust and fatigue me. Round Toilet Seat 40 X 40I forget what I’m looking for; Red Oak Floors With Cherry CabinetsI forget what I’m even doing; Used Book Stores Marin CountyI forget who I am. "Who are these people?" I wonder, reeling — "are they like me?" I feel no connection to them … but I know that I am the strange one.— fortunately I brought a list! Yes, I excel at making lists, and I had enough foresight to measure each of my windows beforehand and mark down exactly what size curtains I would need.

After a stressful and confusing detour through the "Showroom" area of the store, where they have all these depressing little rooms constructed entirely out of flimsy IKEA furniture and accessories, and where people lounge about senselessly on couches, or lay on beds, or walk in circles bumping into each other and mumbling apologies, as hordes of sugar-charged children run shrieking to and fro between their legs … after this misstep, I found the "Marketplace," where I could actually find curtains for sale. After pondering the parts that go into mounting a curtain rod to a wall for what seemed like an hour, I found some prepackaged rods that contained all the necessary brackets and end pieces and doodads and whatever-the-hell. Then I settled on green curtains for the large windows — after being briefly tempted by dark purple ones but ultimately deciding that that was a little somber and strange, even for me. The smaller windows proved even trickier. IKEA is all about massive size, and it turns out they don’t even sell curtains small enough for my other windows.

But I was saved by a sales girl who told me I could fashion curtains out of a piece of fabric, which she was kind enough to cut for me. As I staggered toward the checkout area, my eyes fell on a towering display of coffee tables — an item that is also conspicuously missing from my apartment. I settled on a simple model that was humorously and appropriately named "Lack." It comes packaged flat, in pieces, so I was able to drag that with me to the checkout area as well without too much trouble.And still they all move at a crawl. When I finally got to the register and paid, I asked the cashier what she thought the best way for me to lug all this home was. "Buy a bag," she informed me flatly. I was very confused at first (as I often am), but it’s true — at IKEA the bags are not free. You have to buy one for 59 cents. I guess they get away with that because the bags are reusable and they’re able to market it as part of their "green" campaign, or some nonsense like that. As if by shopping at IKEA you are actually helping save the world.

But when will I ever reuse a giant blue IKEA bag? Also, the cashier told me, I could make a handle for my coffee table over at the "Wrapping Station." I naively expected there to be an employee over there to help me — but really, once the shuttle bus drops you off at IKEA, you have to fend for yourself. I was able to make a crude handle by wrapping two pieces of rope around the package and looping a third piece through for the handle. By the time I got back to my apartment, the rope was cutting into my hand — I live several blocks from the bus stop — but the trip was a success. I probably won’t get around to actually hanging the curtains and assembling the coffee table for another week or so, but still, this constitutes a fairly major triumph in the life of a man like myself. Rob Williams is a mercenary copywriter and copy editor who currently lives above a meat market in the East Village.This DIY will even make you stand ten feet tall. Because you will be as proud as a peacock.

You will puff out your chest, suck in your tummy and stand taller than a super model. Are you ready for the transformation ?! You have some shopping to do.  You need to buy some throw blankets, a shower curtain liner and bathroom accessories* *The shells require a trip to the beach…. While you’re buying your throw blankets at Ikea you might want to book a trip to a tropical island. My fave throw blankets are from Ikea, but the truth is, I can’t lie to you … any store that sells funky throw blankets will do the trick.  You will need them. In the spirit of honesty, there are also a couple of good reasons for avoiding Ikea. a) Furniture assembly with itty bitty parts You may need extra blankets when you hear about the mini catastrophe with my throw blankets. I almost jumped off a bridge in sheer and utter madness. I had a temper tantrum. Actually, I had three temper tantrums. Another fan-freaking-static idea is to use curtain hooks (like the ones below) to hang your shower curtain.  

This is not an option if you have a permanently fixed shower curtain rod.That would be me.   Grommets were my only solution.   I also like the look of the grommets and I wanted to test my temper tantrum skills patience …. so it was a calculated suffering and it was sort of worth it. I can’t believe I just said that. With the curtain rings, you can avert grommet disaster.  However, the look of the grommets can be quite beautiful so  that is why I didn’t give up the ghost on trying the grommet technique. The grommet beauty must be balanced with patience. I chose grommets and alcohol. This DIY is actually quite simple to do, so don’t get your knickers in twist like I did.  I am just trying to make you feel sorry for me and my DIY catastrophe. You better be feeling sorry for me right now. The most difficult factor is that you will need to measure out the space for your grommets to be evenly spaced across the top of your ‘future shower curtain.

Do you remember in math class when you were a kid and they gave you a problem like this to solve? If a car is speeding along a highway at 80 miles an hour, and the driver wants to stop every 20 minutes along the 100 mile stretch of road, what is the name of the driver and how many stops did he make ?…. and you were thinking … ” I hate this math shit.  I will never need to solve a problem like this in real life.  Go square root your mother.” Well the time has come.  You will need to lay out your throw blanket and determine how many grommets you will need to use and how far apart those grommets will be for an equal distance between each grommet.  The curse of the dreaded math teacher. 1.   Go to heaven on earth Ikea. 2.   Buy throw blankets.    This one is my all-time fave : Good news :   These blankets are unique and gorgeous as a shower curtain. Bad news :    They stretch a bit longer after they are hanging.  Accept the fact that they will ‘puddle’ a bit on the floor.  

If you like the look, you will live with the puddle and embrace its awesomeness. Get your hammer ready.  Do you have a high pain tolerance?  If not, have tequila nearby for the thumb whacking by the hammer.  Don’t you hate it when that happens?  Just thinking about it will induce a cringe and will cause the hair to stand up on the back of your neck.  Prepare yourself to take one for the team. 4.   Learn how to dance while holding thumb, dropping hammer, and hopping on one foot with teeth clenched and swearing. 5.   Swear to never use grommets again.  The grommets are not an ancient Chinese secret.  They are an ancient Chinese torture chamber of circles. 6.    Do not  * and I repeat * do not cut the whole in the yarn/ fabric first.   Just hammer the grommet directly through the throw blanket.  It will create its own hole that will fit perfectly with the grommet.  Don’t mess with that magic, otherwise this next problem will happen….. This gives a whole new meaning to having your plans unravel :

Do you see that hole ?  This is where this shit gets real. If it had a crotch, I would have kicked it. ~ a vewwry vewwry angry feeling arose ~ Not that it happened to me. It totally happened to me. Then I had to use this stink bomb glue to rescue the disaster: Btw’s ~  it worked.  It also smelled to the high heavens.  Maybe I wasn’t thinking straight ??!! My self talk : Why hadn’t I tried this glue thing before now? Glue is definitely a way to keep a DIY interesting *snicker*ohhhh then…..the second disaster struck.  While hammering the grommets in place, I hammered a couple of them together and ended up with a grommet shortage. Who does that ? Note : I live in the middle of no-where-ville. The grommet store is about a billion miles away* * Just around the corner in Canadian miles. By the time I travelled to the next province & bought more, I ripped the package open so fast, I can’t remember the name of the grommets.

7.   The size of grommet is 3/8” {{ I think }}. Blame it on the glue. I wasn’t thinking too clearly.  I don’t have a photographic memory.  I don’t even have a short-term memory.  If I did, I can’t remember. It could have been the 15 hour drive. * the angry smoke billowing out of my ears affected my eye sight and then I couldn’t read the packaging * Here are the remnants of my frustration packaging : 8.   You will also need to buy the little grommet tool to hammer the grommets in.  It is a perfect size if you are a gremlin or a small troll.  It is kinda small but it does the job. 9.   I hammered the grommets directly into the fabric blanket after I learned my lesson about fraying the yarn of the blanket.  If the hole happens, sniff glue it.   Since I already had the glue, I glued the back side of every grommet hole to add extra durability.  The backside of the grommet would be hidden by the shower curtain liner anyway.  The glue is clear, so no worries there.  

Safe measure never hurt anyone.  The sniffing of the glue might. 9.   Buy a clear or white shower curtain liner: Note :  A shower stall liner is generally taller than a standard bathtub shower liner.   Look for the tall version of shower liner if you are making a shower curtain for a tall shower stall. The purpose of the liner is to have a waterproof layer to protect your blanket/shower curtain from any wetness.  It works like a charm.  Hang inner waterproof liner first and add the blanket shower curtain on the outer layer so they both hang together on your rod.  Essentially, a double shower curtain.   10.   You’re almost there.  Stand tall, poof out that chest, suck in that tummy and get ready to shower yourself with gorgeousness. 11.   Clean up your act and wash that glue right outta ‘yer hair.  You should be feeling as proud as a peacock by now. 12.   Celebrate your victory over the grommets and shower yourself with the sexiness of your DIY mastery.