Monday, January 28, 2008

The Mind That Knows Itself


I like a good bath.

On a frigid evening, a steamy, aromatic bathtub is a girl's most valuable weapon against illness, unhappiness, and discontent. Whenever I make the effort to bathe, I do it thoroughly. I draw my bathwater up to the brim and fill it with bubbles that thicken and foam under the faucet. I can often languish under tropical bathing conditions until my fingers shrivel and turn purple; my tolerance for such heat has accumulated over the years. For me it is a time of reflection-- a time for genius and enlightenment and epiphanies.

I started reading in the bath in fifth grade.
Chasing Redbird was constantly weighing on my mind; this is evidenced by the wet fingerprints that have left permanent wrinkle-marks on its pages. I suppose that most people don't make a habit of multi-tasking. I've slowed down the novel-reading since I've started college, and now limit myself to obsessively reading the backs of shampoo bottles. It's not nearly as interesting, but it's all I have.

Despite this, every once in a great while I have the good fortune to stumble across comical gems of various shapes and sizes in my tub at school. Ordinary, inanimate objects often carry disguised humor under incredibly droll circumstances. Because of this, the bath has become a whimsical place for me.

For example, a shaving cream bottle I found on the left side of the tub:

St. Eden SPA
Ladies Shave Cream

Green with Envy
Prevent razor irritation
Soften hair and skin

Direction:
Moisten legs and apply to the area to be shaved. In a thin light film.
Shave with a wet razor. Rinsing it often. After shaving, Wash entire
area. Will not stain.

Warning: For external use only. Avoid contact with eye. If condition
worsens, consult a doctor.

KEEP OUT OF CHILDREN

Made in China


Needless to say, I had a nice solitary laugh in the bath when I picked up this bottle and started reading. I'm sure that anyone in the proximity who happened to hear me giggling thought I was going slightly mental.

Perhaps I am.
Or, maybe I just always was.