Day 176 = Walking + My Bathroom

This is an ode to my bathroom.

I'm sure there's one room in everyone's house that they love. It's their retreat. In my house, that's really any room because I live alone, but my master bathroom is one of my favorite places. When I first saw it, I thought, "This is the biggest bathroom ever!" At least that I've ever owned. I measured it and it's something like 162 square feet all together. There's a very long vanity and a mirror that covers the entire wall behind the vanity. There's a window the size of the bathtub that I look out every day. I've watched the crape myrtle tree change with the seasons many times. I have a separate water closet (where I have a small recycling bin upstairs) and a large walk-in closet.

There's a lot of light in my bathroom. It's either coming from the windows or the recessed lighting. Not sure if it's the best light for applying makeup, but it will do for now. Everyday I blow through that bathroom like a tornado hit. One end of the vanity is for hair; the other end is for makeup. It's amazing what I pull out to put myself together. Whether I'm listening to my radio or listening to music on my little hot pink iPod docking station that I keep in there, I'm usually zoning out thinking, "I'll try this color today. Eyeshadow goes here, blush goes here, concealer goes here, eyeliner goes here, pinch 1-2-3 now mascara." I'm talking about where it goes on my face. Does anyone else think like this?

My bathroom is where Debbie, Kristina, Katherine and I ate our Jimmy Johns sandwiches the day they helped me paint my bedrooms before I moved in. When I bought my house, I thought, "One day I'll cry in this bathroom" because, ladies, you know you've all fallen apart over something in the bathroom. So far, so good, though. It's as if when I made that statement I bet myself to not cry in there. In fact, last summer I was crying over some guy, and I started to walk in the bathroom and I thought, "No, I'm not crying over him in my bathroom!" But here I am recollecting the memory. Wait - I think I have actually cried in the bathroom. I cried when I had that face plant.

Tonight I was zoning out in the bathroom listening to "Closedown" by The Cure and teasing my hair into whatever I can create that would resemble a fashionable ponytail that I can get away with at dinner. I went for a walk with my neighbor tonight, and instead of washing my hair, I'm just going to work with it. Gosh, that sounds like something a crackhead would appreciate.