#9 Thing I'll Miss About Home

My bathroom.

I've used the same bathroom since I was a kid. This is where I learned to poop. Where I peed on the seat. Where I threw up after a night of drinking. This is where I cried in the bathtub as my mother poured warm water over my head to wash the shampoo out of my eyes. Where I shaved for the first time. Where I cut myself shaving for the first time. Where I spent, admittedly, far too many wasted hours getting my hair to look just the right way (it never did). This is where I sat, leg propped up, as my mother tried her best to wash my foot after an accident that required 17 stitches (see past blog entry, At the Speed of Stupid). This is the bathroom where I once puked jumbalaya while taking a shower and had to use my own fingers to get it to go down the drain. In this bathroom I've popped zits, brushed my teeth, trimmed my beard, and even straightened my hair during a two or three month phase in high school that ended when a girl said "Did you straighten your hair?" I told her yes and she told me she liked it. But I knew what she meant. And with that, I stopped. But the bathroom memories continued. This is the bathroom where I invented the PSS and got others to buy into the concept of the PSS. If you don't know what a PSS is, you'll never know. Because I'm not telling you. If you do it, you'll know. And you'll chuckle.

I'm not going to lie, it's going to be hard getting used to a new bathroom. I've only known the likes of a few in my entire lifetime. They say you'll never know what you had until it's gone. Well I know all too well what I'll be losing when I leave. The toilet where I wrote some of my best music lyrics. The mirror that made me feel good, bad, and sometimes completely indifferent about my physical appearance. The shower where I cried a little bit after girl #7 broke up with me (girl #7 can be found in a near-future blog entry. Be patient.) This bathroom has always been there. No matter what was going on in my life, how I was feeling, or what Mexican chain restaurant I ate at the previous day, the bathroom was always there to listen to my problems. I know it probably sounds silly to refer to a bathroom as a best friend, but I'm way beyond losing my dignity via blog post. So I'll say it.

I love you, bathroom. You're my best friend. I'll miss you almost as much as the top eight things on this list. And a little more than the spot on the couch that I now occupy.