Aside

I have a lovely girlfriend, who is a little on the eccentric side.  She is doing her PHD in an obscure strand of cultural studies, has a penchant for hot pink, peroxide, glitter and self portraits on her digital camera.  

Always wanting to be the centre of attention, she often showcases her performance poetry at parties, christenings, bar mitzvahs and the like.  

At one particular wedding, at the end of the speeches, she took the microphone so as to give a (theatrical) reading of her poem "Gillette".   This particular piece is a dark tale of her occasional downward spirals which concludes with the line "scratch, claw, pull, where are my razors".  (Get it now, Gillette Sensors?)  It was a hippy crowd, and she had insisted on musical accompaniment, so this went down better than at say a Catholic service in Country Australia.    I have to say my personal favourite of her poetic offerings is entitled "Why can't I have a rainforest without so much mess".

Today she was informing me that she is getting back to her "simple self", more grounded, less drama, a less cluttered and material existence.  A little later in the conversation I enquired of her plans for tomorrow: "Facial, microdermabrasion, waxing, tinting, fake tan, massage and reiki".  

Ah, the simple things.