Kaetlin Perna
June 2, 2006

I love bathrooms. I certainly can't enjoy living somewhere if I can't enjoy living in the bathroom. Let me rethink that statement. I really love bathrooms, and I like to be able to sit in them and be comfortable.

In my first apartment, my bathroom was green, with black tiles and an open tub, and it was very big. It represented peace and relaxation in what was admittedly a cramped studio. Even when my clothes hung in the shower to dry, it felt like a mosaic. It was my favorite place.

When I moved into my current studio, the apartment was gorgeous enough, that relaxation didn't have to rely on the loo. It wasn't until Rochester got hot in the last few days that I'd have to spend more time in my bathroom, because, thankfully, it is the coolest room in the place.

As I smoked my cigarette by the window, in the dark, of my bathroom (where no fans were blowing), I noticed the building next to me. "The back of the building looks like hanging tea candles," I thought to myself. It looks like a shot in a film, but you know no set decorator could get it this right. It is natural beauty in natural light.

Like I said, I love bathrooms. I love my bathroom; my incredibly almost awesome bathroom. It represents peace and tranquility away from TVs, iPods, computers and the phone. It is buildings that look like hanging tea candles, my kitten lounging in the sink basin and smoking a cigarette. Let's face it folks, it's the only true privacy you got.