Things I Will Miss: My Shower

This is the first installment of a new, questionably-regular feature called Things I Will Miss. In all liklihood it won't last much longer than the process of writing the paper I am currently not writing. Which is to say, Tuesday. Hopefully. But I just wanted to commemorate in words and images some of the finer things in my life here in Amsterdam. And the first object of praise is my shower.
Having showered regularly in six different places in 2006, I would like to state without reservation that the shower at Meer en Vaart 442 is by far the best I have experienced. Maybe even ever. I, like most people, I imagine, look for lots of water pressure and inexhaustible amounts of hot water when evaluating "shower awesomeness levels." This shower, my friends, has both to spare. If you aren't accustomed to the positioning of the faucets you might even burn yourself or bruise your skin with the pressure (probably hyperbolic). The room billows with steam. The water on my back is like a thousand little cat tongues insistently massaging away my stress. Or whatever.
It is not merely the superior heat and pressure which make this particular showering experience perfect. It is the design of the shower itself. It is just a shower head in the corner of the bathroom, unseparated from the toilet or sink by a curtain or a tub. At first, I admit this was difficult. The toilet seat gets wet and the toilet paper can get a little damp from the condensation sometimes. But then, I began to realize the benefits. As I have mentioned before, the ability to position a coffee cup within reach but outside the spray of the water has exponentially improved my mornings. And afterwards I just brush my teeth. And not with hot shower water (hot water brushing is gross). I use the cold faucet of the sink. Without the chill of leaving the shower.

It's also really great to have the mirror right there over the sink. I have to swipe away the fog with my hands a couple times, but plucking my eyebrows has never been less painful. My skin is so soft and open from the warm water. Additionally the mirror can provide a great deal of amusement when I enjoy a small joint before showering in the evenings. I play a game called Scary Mermaid which basically involves smearing the mascara that is running down my face and making viscious, come-hither looks at myself in the mirror.
After the cleansing, plucking, caffinating, tooth-brushing ordeal I am relaxed and ready to start the day: