Me, in a bathtub.

A list of things present in the bath with me the other night: A lavender-scented soy wax candle, an 800-plus page Tolstoy novel, my kooky $350 German eyeglasses, a bottle of middle-of-the-road Canadian beer – Kokanee, to be precise. A $4 bottle of shampoo that I followed with an application of $25 conditioner, a half-empty bottle of children’s bubble bath – tutti frutti-scented. What else? A bottle of $30 all-organic vitamin and mineral-infused face wash. And a half-used, scraggly lookin’ bar of ever-so-manly Irish Spring.

Not long after settling down into the fabulously fruity goodness of my bubble bath, I had an epiphany: This scene was as good an encapsulation of me as a person that I could stumble upon unawares. A scene full of humorous contradictions and seemingly implausible combinations, or at least, unlikely ones…

The soy wax candle? That’s the health- and environmentally-conscious consumer in me. The hippie that resides deep within me. And, it’s lavender: soothing, comforting. For the sensualist in me.

The Tolstoy? The intellectual book worm, of course. The part of me that likes to go for the gold, to challenge the limits of my mind.

The too-expensive European eyeglasses? The quirky, style-conscious fashionista – wordly, with expensive taste - that I can claim to be on my better days.

The Beer: The laid-back, girl-next-door. It’s no microbrew, nothing fancy…which suggests accessibility. But again, it’s foreign…so I’m still exercising a bit of discretion there. A pinch of beer elitism, that calls for the exclusion of domestic beer.

How about the shampoo and conditioner combo? Well, some might think it’s just about pointless to drop $25 bucks on conditioner when I’ll preface its use with some shitty drug store shampoo. Although I understand that sort of practical argument, I have to say: I liked the smell and list of ingredients in the shampoo. Pretty straight-forward. But, the other part of me really likes to care for my hair, to keep it healthy…hence the spendy creamed lube. So, what this means: I can be impractical and – some may deem – wasteful, but it works for me. And I smell good doing it.

The children’s bubble bath? Well, that was purchased at a dollar store. The easy part – it represents the fun-loving kid in me, a part of me that I always try to nurture. The dollar store bit? That accounts for the selectively thrifty shopper in me. And the bubble bath itself, well, that’s for the part of me that always feels a need to find time to unwind, to get back to myself; the earthy woman in me. I always look forward to relaxation and reflection amid a sea of fluffy, iridescent bubbles.

Ok, on the face wash. That’s the planner in me, the woman that is always looking to the future and trying to practice “preventative maintenance”. A woman who knows she doesn’t have the prettiest face, but needs to maintain what she’s got. (Protection of one’s assets, however meager.) I can justify the use of mediocre bar soap on my limbs and booty, but my face? Hell no, it needs to be pampered.

The bar soap? No luxurious bodywash here. I like the crisp, masculine scent of Irish Spring. That must be the tomboy in me. It’s a sort of checks and balances; I can never let myself become too feminine, to eschew my boyish roots. It’s the roughness that always accompanies the tender.

Once I took stock of this little enclave that I had (unconsciously) created for myself, I just laid back into the warmth and laughed. At myself. Because of what I thought each item represented, and then, again - at myself! – because, what kind of person would actually sit in her tub and think to explain her character vis-a-vis some smallish pile of random bath accoutrements?