Bath....rooms.

I feel like writing about the bathroom situation here.

In the basement we have a bathroom with a toilet and a shower/tub. It’s nice, but for some reason the shower curtain doesn’t go around the entire inside of the tub, instead it encircles a small area around the shower nozzle. So while I shower the curtain allows very little room, and ends up sometimes clinging to my skin on one side because it’s so close. On the other side is a window, and I don’t really know how transparent it is. Regardless, there’s little space to maneuver, and it makes showering pretty comical. It also takes forever for me to figure out how to get a good amount of hot water, I spend the first couple minutes burning or freezing myself.

Another flight up is another bathroom. This one only has a sink and toilet. However, we’ve been told that the windows in this bathroom make you completely visible from the street, even though they appear foggy from the inside. The sink has a strange extra faucet sticking out of a wall to the right, and we’ve been told no one knows what it’s there for, since it doesn’t do anything.

Then another flight up is another bathroom, with only a shower and a sink, no toilet. I haven’t used the shower, but apparently you turn the water on by pushing a button. It’s just a button. However, in order for any water to run in the shower, you must pull a string that hangs from the ceiling over the sink.

I visited one of the other houses today, and they have an awesome bathroom. There’s this tiny, slender door on their top floor, and when you open it there are some incredibly steep, spiral stairs that lead to another level. The level is just a bathroom, and it’s a pretty sizable one, with a tub and toilet. On one wall there’s a door, which leads to the “boiler room,” which is just a small empty room. No boiler to be found. I could live in that room. I want to, it’s a really nice house. Except they have weird wall sculptures of cherubs fighting each other. Seriously, there’s a cherub raising a stick high in the air, looking like he’s gonna strike another cherub who’s cowering in the corner. Three or for other cherubs are in the background, pointing and giggling. I don’t get it.

Speaking of sculptures I don’t get, I pass one everyday on my way to and from my house. It’s a guy standing with his hands folded, and he has a potted plant for a head. On the wall next to him is a disembodied cone head. It creeps me out, and I can’t get anyone to explain the significance. But apparently you can buy an image of Mr. Pot-For-A-Head on postcards.