Oh, and I was Productive Today

I finished my second hat in two weeks. I like this one very much, the first one was a different pattern and turned out much too small. I need to find a bunch of tiny-headed people to wear my mistakes. This one, however, rocks my socks. I got the pattern online and it turned out just fine, but the pattern itself was wicked confusing PLUS I used some of the yarn my Grandmother Joyce gave me over Christmas. It doesn't get much better than that...

Oh Jessie, I'm going to send you one like this for Wisconsin once I get more yarn, darling!

And yes, I'm totally taking a picture of myself... in the bathroom. At least it wasn't from the toilet! Our shower has a mirror-door in it right in front of the toilet which is a little unnerving and still freaks me out late at night.

Disturbia... the Toilet

I'm a little frightened by the lack of toilet paper or hand soap in all of Italy. No matter where I go on my little adventures one thing is certain, I will always be confused by their absence in my life. Italians, it seems, feel no need to be clean. They can sex-up every aspect of their lives, but personal hygiene isn't so much of a hot-button issue.

For example, in or around the train station are bathrooms. Naturally. However, you must pay to use 95% of these facilities. So, after seven hours of riding on a train I get to stand in front of a turn stile and fish out the exact change (it won't take anything less or more than EXACT change) from various pockets. This is no easy task BEFORE taking into account my exploding bladder and general travel-anxiety. Usually it's about 70 cents which is about a dollar in U.S. currency. What am I paying for? Who knows, but whatever it is doesn't include toilet paper or soap. It includes their dispensers, puddles of soap and scraps of paper on the floor, but there's a distinct lack of the actual products.

Our solution has been to take wads of paper with us in our bags. Now, I'm talking specifically about the girls... I have no idea or any real desire to find out what the guys do.. they're on their own as far as restroom etiquette is concerned. I don't even want to venture around the men's room... the horrors of Euro-potties are evident enough in the girls' room, which is universally better than the men's. Why? That's one of life's greatest mysteries.