Pick one Singer/Group/Band & use their lyrics to answer questions. | |
Describe yourself.: | I am heaven-sent; don't you dare forget |
What is your favorite time of year/season?: | I need the smell of summer, I need its noises in my ear |
How do you feel about the one you love?: | he waits for it to end and for the aching in his gut to subside |
Are you happy or sad?: | ask me what its like to have myself so figured out -- I wish I knew |
Describe where you live.: | I'm better off home on a Saturday night |
What are your flaws or faults?: | I'm a failure by design |
What are your plans for the future?: | this is a matter of life and death, and we are not prepared, I just want you to know |
How do you feel about God/religion?: | this is the grace only we can bestow |
What do you do when you're bored?: | and this quiet dark bedroom's like the middle of nowhere |
What makes you angry?: | I'll grow old, start acting my age |
What makes you excited?: | walk around this town like we own the streets, and stay awake through summer like we own the heat, singing "everybody wake up, its time to get down" |
Do you like or accept yourself for who you are?: | see these scars on me? I'm just marking territory |
How do you feel about people in general?: | I make things hard and you're just trying to help |
How do you feel about the world?: | better off if I just let it be |
Take this survey | Find more surveys You've been totally Bzoink*d |
Apr. 17th, 2006
I bought a soap dish yesterday. I was in that aisle anyway; I'd gone to the pharmacy because I needed shampoo, and while I was there I decided to acquire one of those little suction-cup-with-a-hook dealies so I could actually hang up my body sponge. And then I spotted the soap dish, a little white plastic affair designed to be mounted to a wall. Its packaging claims it utilizes a waterproof tile-friendly adhesive, which caught my eye, and on a whim I bought it.
The thing is, there is already a soap dish in my shower. Like most showers I have encountered that were constructed in the modern era, it came with one already installed into the tiles. And like in most showers the built-in soap dish, so apparently integral to its design, is in almost exactly the wrong place. Its near the taps which control the flow and temperature of the water, not quite directly beneath the shower head, but close enough as to make no difference.
Consequently any soap that gets left there ends up constantly wet, so that the outer layer turns to goop and the overall mass is eroded anytime someone uses the shower. My roommate Pete, with whom I share a bathroom, makes use of liquid soap, so that's approximately one shower's worth of bar-soap erosion per day. Now a normal, less neurotic person, might not be bothered by a thing like that, but I was.
In my estimation a soap dish has two jobs. Its first job is simple enough: it needs to be a place to put your soap where it won't fall into the tub, so that you can find it easily and not accidentally slip on it. But its second job is, ideally, to allow the soap to dry out when its not in use. This new dish is quite good at that job; in addition to being plastic the dish itself is perforated to allow water to drain out. And I have installed it up high, in the back corner of the shower, far out of range of the shower spray or any reasonable deflection of the spray by a human body.
Yesterday I hung my new soap dish in my shower, and the suction cup hook for my body sponge right next to it. Today I bought a telescoping rod to be installed in the doorframe of the door into my room. But that's another story.
The thing is, there is already a soap dish in my shower. Like most showers I have encountered that were constructed in the modern era, it came with one already installed into the tiles. And like in most showers the built-in soap dish, so apparently integral to its design, is in almost exactly the wrong place. Its near the taps which control the flow and temperature of the water, not quite directly beneath the shower head, but close enough as to make no difference.
Consequently any soap that gets left there ends up constantly wet, so that the outer layer turns to goop and the overall mass is eroded anytime someone uses the shower. My roommate Pete, with whom I share a bathroom, makes use of liquid soap, so that's approximately one shower's worth of bar-soap erosion per day. Now a normal, less neurotic person, might not be bothered by a thing like that, but I was.
In my estimation a soap dish has two jobs. Its first job is simple enough: it needs to be a place to put your soap where it won't fall into the tub, so that you can find it easily and not accidentally slip on it. But its second job is, ideally, to allow the soap to dry out when its not in use. This new dish is quite good at that job; in addition to being plastic the dish itself is perforated to allow water to drain out. And I have installed it up high, in the back corner of the shower, far out of range of the shower spray or any reasonable deflection of the spray by a human body.
Yesterday I hung my new soap dish in my shower, and the suction cup hook for my body sponge right next to it. Today I bought a telescoping rod to be installed in the doorframe of the door into my room. But that's another story.