Return of the Bath

Somewhere, out there, the blog gods are looking down at me with scornful eyes…

You’re writing about bathtime now, really? yeah…

Why don’t you just stick to your theme, D?? FREEDOM! remember? I know, but…

BATHING????? REALLY? maybe…

Don’t you know anything about blogging? You’re supposed to post consistently and give your readers expectations! Eeep!

What kind of dog and pony show are you running here, anyway??? A fun one?

Yeah. So about this blog. I feel like it would be a good idea to have more focus and structure but I just can’t. I have started several blogs in the past including:

  • A food/recipe blog
  • A dating coaching blog
  • A “Life’s Little Moments” blog
  • A household projects blog
  • more I’m forgetting?

I probably own more domain names than I can remember and they’re probably auto-renewing on my credit card which I probably should be checking into…hmmm. Anyway the story always holds. I start with chest-bursting enthusiasm, post for a few weeks, realize what a pain in the butt it is and slowly stop posting. Or I get overly critical and try to achieve perfection at every post, which completely takes away the fun and creative process. SO. This is the first blog where I keep having random things pop up in my head that I actually WANT to write about. And the second that I tell myself, ‘no, I shouldn’t write about that…it has nothing to do with being free at heart’ then my brain thinks of 10 MORE random things. My little rebel mind takes over.

This blog is 100% serving as my personal release right now, and I’m not ready to put any sort of cap on it and filter what goes in and what goes out. I just can’t yet. I feel like I have a backlog of posts that have been pent up for years and are finally coming to surface.

So why don’t you like, just write in a journal or something? We don’t really care that you’re taking a bath. I don’t know. It’s different when it’s out for the world to see. Plus, if I wrote here like I wrote in my journal, you’d definitely lock me up in an insane asylum. truth.

Fine, we get it, you’re using us to experiment and get comfortable posting your crap out into the world. Anything else, missy? Ummm, expect some really random posts coming up, including a v-log soon.

Why didn’t you go through this self-indulgent, all-about-you thing in your teen years? Cause I was trying to grow up too fast and never really stopped to listen to what I wanted/needed…so I’m hitting it a little late.

And we’re just supposed to sit back and keep reading while you clear out your skeletons and start making some sense? Yes, please. In a way I’ve never quite experienced before, sitting down to write these posts and making my comics has been the best form of therapy. I’m gettin’ healed, doc!!!

Fine, tell us about your stinkin’ bath. K!!!! I will!!!! 🙂

SOOOOOOO I took this awesome bath tonight. It was awesome and extra special because my old place in Palo only had a stand-up shower, and my place before that only had a really old tub that was not the soaking kind, and the bottom line is that it’s been years since I’ve had a good soak. Over the past few years I’ve been trying to develop healthier ways to manage stress…like walking, yoga, writing, etc. But one thing that used to be my go-to, that I was really missing, was…….bathtime! When I moved into my current place, I was ALL ABOUT the tub. But when I got here, you know what those heartless bastards didn’t tell me??? There is no drain stopper. Meaning, there is no way to actually fill up the tub!? WTF? Believe me, I was pissed. I tried every trick from every hotel I’d ever stayed at. There was no hidden plug. There was no looks-like-a-faucet but is really a plug for aesthetic reasons just beyond my view. Nada. Nothing. SOOOOOO. I went to Target. Nothing. I went to CVS. Nothing. Every day my bath seemed more and more like a distant dream. Finally, the only tub stopper in all the land showed up on Amazon:

(source)

So I waited and waited and waited. And finally, she came in the mail. What did I do? I had a bleach party and gave the tub a good scrubbin’. Who knows what the last tenant might have done in there. Sure, my feet go in there every day, but this is like, different. I poured myself a glass of red and waited…waited…and waited. It was finally so. Bathtime reunion.

Was that a letdown story? Hope not. I’m off to bed now. Night!

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1 Comment

  1. Wow out there

     /  February 16, 2012

    Sowhere is the pic of happy you in the bath salute enjoy

    Reply

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