rub a dub dub

as you may know, i have spent the past few months dealing with the oh-so-pleasant processes of buying a condo and then throwing myself into one of the most terrifying and harrowing experiences i've ever had: remodeling a bathroom. of course, i'm excited and thrilled about the whole thing, but i've found the process extremely difficult and trying, and would have never made it without the help of my wonderful parents, who, as 20% of my readership, are doubtlessly reading this. so before i enter into my typical rant, i must thank the wonderful and fantastic and super-annoying-at-times, momma and poppa b for their many many hours of backbreaking labor and patience with my inability to successfully paint, screwdriver, take a door off its hinges, wash a window or purchase the correct light bulb.

today was moving day, and with the exception of the realization that i don't have nearly enough furniture, everything went pretty well, albeit exhausting. but throughout the day, i just wanted everyone to leave so i could finally enjoy the one moment i'd been fantasizing about for months, dreaming about for weeks, and savoring the thought of nearly endlessly... the first bath. most of you probably don't know this, but i am a serious bath enthusiast. fanatic. fiend.

as a child, i was a voracious reader, and there was nothing i loved more than reading in the bathtub (with the possible exception of writing really, really, terrible poetry/songs). i was the type of reader who wouldn't put down a book to do anything as petty as eat, sleep, talk, walk... pretty much anything... i was a really engaging child, i swear. of course, as a pretty much obsessed swimmer, i was also a big fan of being in the water, so it seems that water + book = reading in the bathtub was a natural progression for me.

i remember locking myself in the bathroom, johnny tremain tucked under my arm (poor, poor johnny and his sad crippled hand! i did a recent re-read of this book and have found that it does stand up to the test of time, johnny tremain fans!), lying in the bathtub, start reading/filling it up (HOLD PLEASE: this is a serious bath survey. am i the only person who lies naked in the bathtub while it slowly fills up? i feel like "normal" people fill it up and then get in? i guess i just like the whole process so much? i need answers!!! is this just another case of rachel-cant-tie-her-shoes-like-99%-of-the-population syndrome? thank you for participating in this very important survey!), filling the tub up to the highest level possible, reading until the water goes cold, draining and repeating. perhaps several times.

since childhood, baths, and reading in bathtubs have remained a hardcore favorite activity of mine, so when i bought the condo, i immediately knew that the 14-inch deep piece of crap they were passing off as a "bathtub" wasn't going to do. of course, my wanting a new bathtub pretty much quickly snowballed into wanting a new bathroom, then expanding the bathroom, then building a cabinet and installing doors and moving electrical boxes. so here i am, 10 weeks later, with a brand new, pretty bathroom... complete with the deepest fucking bathtub i could find.

sure, this 27 inch beauty makes the entire bathroom feel like it was specially-built for someone at least five inches taller than i am. sure, i have to make sure i don't tip over when i climb in because i have to lift my short little leg so high. who cares?!?! this tub is awesome. seriously, i splashed around like i kid!! water sloshed around and didn't even reach the top!! i can do a 360 in the middle of the tub! it took like 10 minutes to fill up because it is so awesomely deep!! this tub is big enough for two (wink wink)!

i'm a happy camper.

today's bath was bookless, but blissful. looking forward to many more, and extending invitations to come visit me!!! yay!



Dana said...

Flashback! I read Johnny Tremain in middle school. We were paired with a partner and I developed a crush on that guy that only lasted for the duration of the book. I wanted him to ask me to the 8th grade dance though and he didn't. Poor me and Johnny.

rachel morgan said...

tragic. what could've been if that 8th grade dance had only occurred!!