(Image via Flickr) So I just turned thirty and my mom sent me, among other girlish gifts, a small bottle of bubbles—to subtly remind me, I’m sure, just how far I am from being young enough to enjoy them. They’re not the kind you’d use in some lavish and womanly bath, but the kind you’d…
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Standing in an eighteenth century period costume complete with hoops, looking like The Joker with tears streaming down my face at 4am on Adelaide’s Rundle Street, I wondered how it had come to this. Until that moment, I thought that I was pretty good at gauging situations and had the smarts to keep out of…
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